❗[Current Writing Contest-WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 Fantas]❗

Flain grew up in a futuristic world. When he was born his parents didn't want him because he didn't live up to their expectations and so he ended up very badly.

Flain was employed as a slave. He was forced to mine radioactive iron deep in the mines. It was drilled into his head that he existed only to obey orders.  

Young Flain was obedient. He doubted some of it but knew nothing else. For years, he never saw a single ray of light; light was only spoken of among the others as a legend.  

The routine was the same: in the morning, he would take a nutrient tablet and water. Then he would mine all day, sleep eight hours, and repeat.  

Flain worked like this from childhood until he was ten years old. He even found a friend, but that friend died of radiation poisoning right in front of Flain. Flain couldn't stop mining. He kept mining with tears streaming down his face.  

Before bed, Flain cried. "I will become the strongest. I will kill you all, and you will become my slaves." Flain stopped crying, stared blankly at the rocky ceiling, then looked ahead. A manic grin appeared on his face, one that would often adorn it from that moment on.

At the age of ten, Flain was assigned to a military camp due to his endurance in the mines and his survival against radiation.  

In the camp, Flain was trained. The regime was much looser; he even had an hour of free time each day. However, Flain didn't make any more friends. Even during his free time, he trained with a smile. He would achieve his goal at any cost, even if it meant training himself to death.  

Experiments were conducted on Flain. He lost his hair, two long gray arms grew on his back, and a third red eye appeared. Flain became a mutant.  

Flain was then sent to war. He fought with sharp katabas. He performed quite well in the war, earning himself command of ten soldiers and becoming a small commander. 

But one day, everything changed.

Flain then dies, is swallowed by darkness, and Flain refuses to die, thus appearing as a skeleton in a fantasy world.

Itai turned around. Behind him stood a young man who looked no older than seventeen. He was dressed in a black suit, had white hair with a hint of blue tint, and gray eyes. Itai was already Stage 2, so he could sense his ME—he immediately picked up that the boy was Stage 3, which instantly put him on alert.


"Well, honestly, I'm only here for a short time," said Itai.


"Well, I'm glad to hear that. I'm Flor Wahraid. And you are?" Klor asked.


"I'm Itai and the one next to me is Zheren. You have a surname? So you're a noble?" Itai asked.


"Yes, I'm the fifth son of Archpriest Rodhor Wahraid. Hmm… Itai, that name rings a bell, and your appearance seems a bit familiar too. Wait, are you that A talent?" Flor asked.


"Well, there's been quite a bit of talk about you among the nobles. But if you have A talent, why are you so weak?" Klor asked.


"Well, I only started training recently. Before that, I lived my whole life as a regular person," said Itai.


Chapter 69 - Flor Wahraid