The orphanage had become a shadowed playground for my experiments. To anyone else, it was a place of boredom, misery, and petty chaos. To me, it was a laboratory. A proving ground. A battlefield.
I had spent years observing, learning, calculating. Seven in body, twenty-one in mind. Nothing escaped me. The cries of children, the footsteps of adults, the flutter of a rat's tail—all were data points. Everything could be used, manipulated, turned into power. And my puppets—Arthur, Lancelot, and the crude new soldiers I had created—were extensions of my will. Obedient. Responsive. Alive.
But I wanted more. I wanted coordination. I wanted efficiency. I wanted my army to function as one mind with ten bodies. To do that, I needed testing, planning, and ruthlessness beyond anything the orphanage could provide.
Coordinated Training
I crouched in a shadowed corner of the storage room, eyes scanning the faint movement of stray curses in the alleys beyond. My puppets lined up silently, blocky, awkward, imperfect—but attentive.
"Listen," I whispered. "Arthur, flank left. Lancelot, strike from above. New puppets… block and observe. Synchronize."
I guided their movements with cursed energy, subtle nudges in the flow of thought and command. At first, their motions were jerky, misaligned, and clumsy. A puppet overextended, another lagged, a third tripped over its own blocky leg. I did not scold. I did not hesitate. I adjusted, recalculated, and repeated.
The next attempt was better. Movements more synchronized, attacks sharper, energy flow cleaner. The small gap in obedience began to close. Even the new puppets, awkward and crude, began mimicking instinctively what I had taught.
This is just the start, I thought. Coordination, synchronization, obedience… all the pieces for the Tenfold Pact.
Testing Multiple Curses
No army could survive without real combat. I lured several small curses into the alley at once—a scavenger, a rat-shaped curse, a twisted shadow. Alone, each was weak. Together, they could overwhelm untrained soldiers.
I let them approach.
"Attack," I commanded.
Arthur intercepted the first curse, Lancelot struck the second, and two new puppets blocked the shadow's advance. Their movements were imperfect but coordinated, guided subtly by my cursed energy. The curses lunged, claws snapping, shadows twisting. My puppets absorbed, deflected, countered.
One of the new puppets faltered under pressure, its crude wooden limb splintering. I directed the others to compensate instantly, guiding them to strike with precise timing. In seconds, all three curses lay in fragments, absorbed into my puppets' forms, feeding them energy to grow, to learn.
I studied the aftermath carefully. Each fragment absorbed was not just power—it was data. A lesson in reaction, energy flow, coordination. My army was learning. Slowly, painfully, painfully precise.
One day… I thought. Ten perfect soldiers. Special Grade. All obedient. All mine.
Mental Preparation for the Tenfold Pact
The idea of the Binding Vow pulsed in my mind like a promise. Ten puppets. Maximum obedience. Maximum power. Each one Special Grade. A single sacrifice in exchange for limitless potential.
I considered every variable. What would the vow cost me? How would I enforce it? Could I survive the strain of transferring so much cursed energy into ten bodies? Could they remain obedient under extreme pressure?
The answers didn't frighten me. They excited me. Every risk was a calculation, every sacrifice a tool. Obedience and power outweighed caution. Fear was useless. Weakness was useless. Only control mattered.
I closed my eyes and projected visions of the Tenfold Pact in my mind. Ten puppets, lined in formation, each reacting instantly, moving as extensions of my will. Every attack coordinated, every defense perfect, every cursed technique channeled flawlessly.
It will be beautiful, I thought. It will be unstoppable. And it will all obey me.
Ruthless Experimentation
That night, I experimented further. The puppets had absorbed fragments from multiple curses, but I wanted more. I pushed them harder, forcing them to move faster, to react instinctively, to coordinate without my mental nudges.
One failed. Its blocky leg broke under pressure. Another misjudged timing. Arthur's golden fist smacked into the wall instead of the target. Lancelot's shadow pulse faltered midair.
I didn't panic. I didn't scold. I adjusted, redistributed energy, guided the others to compensate, and tried again. Each failure taught me something. Each success brought me closer to perfection.
By the time the night ended, the puppets were sharper, faster, more responsive. Still crude. Still blocky. Still ugly. But obedience had improved, instinct had begun to emerge, and potential glimmered in every movement.
Von's Ruthless Mindset
I didn't feel pride. I didn't feel joy. I didn't allow myself the fleeting thrill of creation. I was Von. I was ruthless. I was patient. I was precise. The orphanage, the other children, the staff—all irrelevant. They were nothing. My puppets were everything.
Every fragment absorbed, every movement perfected, every failure corrected—these were the seeds of a future army. The Tenfold Pact would formalize it. Ten puppets. Special Grade. Unstoppable. Perfect. And mine.
I was small. I was fragile. But my mind, my cursed energy, my puppets—they were weapons. And I would wield them with surgical precision.
The world didn't know it yet, but it would. The name Von would one day strike fear, not pity.
Closing Thoughts
I had spent five years surviving. Two more had passed experimenting with curses and puppets. I had learned patience, observation, calculation, and ruthlessness. My puppets were no longer just toys—they were soldiers, imperfect but learning, growing with every fragment consumed.
The Tenfold Pact was no longer a dream. It was inevitable. My army would be perfect. My puppets would obey flawlessly. And I… I would command them with cold, unflinching precision.
The world doesn't matter. Only power matters. Only obedience matters.
And with that, I crouched in the shadows, surveying the alley and the small curses skittering across it, knowing that every victory, every fragment, every experiment brought me closer to something unstoppable.
This is only the beginning