The boy stood frozen in the doorway, his body refusing to move. His breath felt stuck in his throat, his chest tightening as his eyes locked onto the sight before him.
The only person he cared about. The only person who cared about him.
His mother lay on the cold wooden floor, her body still, her skin pale as if all the warmth had been drained from it. Blood pooled beneath her, dark and thick, soaking into the floorboards. A knife was buried deep in her abdomen, its silver blade stained red.
Her once soft lips were slightly parted, as if she had tried to say something before everything went dark. Her lifeless eyes, usually filled with warmth, were now frozen in place, staring toward the front door toward him.
As if she had been waiting for him to come home.
His lips trembled. His voice barely came out.
"M-Mom…"
Before he could say anything else, a voice interrupted him.
"Oh, you got home early, Vani."
His eyes moved from his mother's dead body to the man standing next to her. Walter.
A mercenary in his forties. Tall, around six feet, with a strong, rugged build. His dark brown hair was always unkempt, and a jagged scar ran from his left eyebrow down to his cheek, making his sharp eyes look even colder. He wore a worn leather coat over a chainmail shirt, his boots stained with dirt from the road. Arms crossed, he stood there, staring at my mother's body like it was nothing.
Walter wasn't just some mercenary. He was Gerald's right hand, the man who carried out his dirty work. If Gerald wanted something done, Walter made sure it happened. He was always there, standing guard whenever Gerald came to our house, watching in silence as his master played his little game.
Because that's all it was to Gerald-a game.
He never came here out of love or anything like that. He came to remind my mother of her place. To show her the difference between them. He acted like he cared, like he belonged here, like this was his home. And every time, my mother had to smile and accept it, as if she had a choice.
He had seen the bruises he left behind. Ugly, dark marks on her arms, her back, sometimes even her face. They always appeared after he left. She never spoke about them, never complained. But I could see it in the way she moved the next morning slowly, careful, like even breathing hurt.
And now, she wasn't moving at all.
And he couldn't do anything about it.
Walter may not have been the strongest man in the world, but in this village, he didn't need to be. Even though he was just a Novarion, unable to break through to the next stage, he was still stronger than anyone else here. And Vani hated it. Because everytime he looked at him it made him remember how powerless he truly was.
Tears ran down his face as he shouted,
"Why?"
"Why did you kill my mother?"
He couldn't hold it in anymore. His whole body shook, but Walter just stood there, his face blank, like he didn't care at all.
"Stop crying."
His voice was cold, like he was annoyed.
"I just did what Gerald told me to do."
"Wha—"
He couldn't even finish before he cut him off.
"Your mom was Gerald's favorite toy. He'd come to this place just to play house with her in front of you."
He paused for a second, then smirked.
"But she was also the most beautiful woman at the Sunlight Brothel. She made a lot of money since she wasn't exactly... cheap."
Vani clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his skin.
"Then why—"
Again, he interrupted.
"Because she was planning to run away, apparently."
His mind went blank.
Run away? Since when? Why didn't she tell me?
Walter let out a small chuckle.
"Looking at your face, I guess you really didn't know."
He shook his head slightly.
"Your mom saved every coin she could, just so she could escape with you."
Vani swallowed hard. His voice was barely a whisper.
"How do you know?"
Walter sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"Your mom only trusted two people, even though she was kind to everyone. And Eve... she was one of them."
He paused for a moment, then continued.
"She told Eve she was saving up, planning to leave at the end of the month when Gerald would be away. She thought she could finally escape with you, start over somewhere far from here."
Walter let out a small chuckle, his voice laced with mockery.
"But trust is a dangerous thing, kid. Eve ran straight to Gerald and told him everything."
Vani felt like his stomach twisted.
My mother... she had a plan. A way out. And someone she trusted betrayed her?
Walter sighed, almost bored.
"Well, kid, it's time for you to go after your mom."
His words sent a chill down Vani's spine.
Vani swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Did he tell you to kill me too?"
Walter tilted his head slightly, as if the answer was obvious.
"Of course. Can't have you growing up and causing problems for him later."
After he finished talking, his cold gaze shifted back to Vani's mother's dead body. Without hesitation, he bent down and pulled the knife from her stomach. The sickening sound of metal sliding against flesh made Vani feel like he could throw up at any second.
He wiped the blood off the blade using her clothes, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Vani wanted to rip his heart out. He wanted to kill him. But all he could do was watch.
A storm of emotions raged inside him. Grief, fear, helplessness. But one burned brighter than the rest.
Anger.
He was so angry he could barely see straight. His vision blurred, his breath came out in short, shaky gasps.
He wanted Walter dead. He wanted him to suffer, to feel even a fraction of the pain he had caused. But no matter how much he wanted it, he knew the truth.
Walter was a Novarion, someone who had awakened his energy core and could wield Essentia. Even though he had never broken through to the next stage, it would still be impossible for a normal person to kill a Novarion.
And Vani?
He was nothing. Just a normal kid. Weak. Powerless. He wouldn't even be able to land a hit on Walter, let alone kill him.
Walter took slow, heavy steps toward him. Vani's body tensed, but he forced himself to speak.
"What… What were my mother's last words?"
Walter stopped right in front of me. His lips curled into a devilish grin, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement.
"Her last words?"
He let out a chuckle before continuing.
"She begged."
He fell into despair just from hearing those few words.
"She said… 'Please, let Vani live. He has no fault in this. He's just a kid. It was all me."
His grin widened as he leaned in slightly.
"She died right after saying that, so she never got to hear my answer."
Walter's voice dropped lower, almost like a whisper.
"But if she had, I would've told her…"
His breath caught in his throat.
"That's impossible."
After hearing those words, his anger turned into pure rage. Without thinking, he grabbed the knife hidden under his clothes. A simple kitchen knife he carried for safety. He never thought he'd actually have to use it.
His mind went blank.
Before he even realized what he was doing, he lunged forward and stabbed.
He only managed to land a hit because Walter wasn't expecting it. He had let his guard down. But the wound wasn't deep enough. Nowhere near enough to kill him.
The next thing he knew, a heavy force slammed into him.
He didn't even see Walter move.
Before he could react, he was sent flying, his back slamming against the wooden wall. A sharp pain shot through his ribs as he collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe, gasping for air.
"Fucking shit… you stabbed me?"
Walter's voice was filled with shock. He looked down at his wound, his face twisting in disbelief. He never imagined that Vani of all people would stab him. But the surprise didn't last long. His expression darkened, his shock melting into anger.
His footsteps were slow but heavy as he walked toward Vani, fists clenched. His face had turned red, his usual cold, emotionless look replaced by something worse, something terrifying. Vani, knew he was going to kill me. He should have been scared.
But he wasn't.
Maybe it was because he had finally hurt Walter, even if just a little. Maybe it was because, for the first time, he had wiped that cold, unshaken expression off the man's face. Or maybe it was because of the strange warmth spreading through his body. It wasn't pain, it was something else, something he had never felt before. It made him feel… calm. Yet his anger remained, burning inside him, refusing to fade.
Walter stepped closer. Vani knew he had to move, had to stand up, had to do something. But before he could even finish the thought…
THUD!
A brutal kick to his stomach sent him crashing into the wall. The air was ripped from his lungs, and for a moment, he couldn't even breathe.
Walter's hits… they were on a different level. Vani had been beaten before, plenty of times by thugs in the streets, but this? This wasn't even comparable.
He gasped for air, clutching his ribs as he crawled along the ground, his body screaming in pain. Walter took a step back, rolling his shoulders like he was just warming up.
"Damn brat," he muttered, cracking his neck."You're tougher than you look."
Then he grinned. A sick, twisted grin that made me feel sick.
"Alright, I've decided. I'll send you off in the most painful way possible."
Before Vani could react, Walter grabbed the same kitchen knife he had been stabbed with. And drove it straight into his left leg.
"AGHHHHHHH!"
The pain was unreal. It felt like fire spreading through his veins, like his leg was being ripped apart from the inside. A scream tore from his throat, uncontrollable.
Walter watched him writhe in agony, then grabbed him by the hair and yanked him up, forcing him to meet his gaze.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
The pain was unbearable. It felt like fire coursing through his veins, the sharp sensation of his body being torn apart from the inside. He wanted to scream, but the agony was so intense that no sound escaped him.
But then… his mother's face flashed in his mind.
Had she felt this pain? No… she had felt worse.
His vision blurred. Not from tears, but from the rage that surged within him. Walter must've noticed the change in his expression, because he chuckled darkly, savoring the moment. With a mockingly playful tone, he reached for the second knife. The one he had used to kill his mother.
"Alright, kid," Walter said. "Here comes the second one."
The blade sank into his right shoulder, and white-hot pain exploded throughout his body. His mind screamed, but his mouth barely made a sound.
He was too exhausted to scream anymore. His body was giving out, his muscles weak and trembling. The overwhelming urge to shut down, to let go, pulled at him.
For a moment, he considered it.
He was tired. So tired. He wanted to close his eyes, to escape the pain, to rest.
But if he did… who would avenge his mother? Who would bear witness to the truth of what happened?
There were no heroes in this world. No one was coming to save him. If he died here, it would be over. an end without justice.
Walter's smile widened as he tightened his grip around Vani's throat.
"Very good, kid. You lasted longer than I expected." He chuckled. "But it's time to say goodbye."
His hand constricted. Vani gasped, his body instinctively trying to resist, but there was no strength left. His vision began to fade, his lungs screaming for air, his body shutting down.
He was going to die.
And then…
"Congratulations, you've awakened your energy core."