Louskas stepped into a forest far from the clan. The silence was refreshing, especially after the constant noise and hypocrisy within the clan. He walked calmly, hands behind his back, as if following a path he had memorized long ago. Soon, he arrived at a small lake that highlighted the beauty of the lush greenery around him. Even with the sound of flowing water and the wind rustling through the trees, the atmosphere was soothing.
This peaceful place was exactly what Louskas needed. He had known of it in his past life. In a few years, this very location would be the reason for the Solan Clan's rapid rise.
He stood still for a moment, taking in the scenery. A sense of calm washed over him, numbing the pain of all the shocks he had endured—his torture, his return, and the humiliation of becoming a slave. For a brief moment, Louskas forgot about his suffering, his struggles, and the burdens weighing on him. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and let all thoughts fade from his mind.
A cool breeze swept through, making his dark hair dance in the wind. Droplets from the lake's gentle ripples landed on his face. He remained like this for a few minutes, existing in pure tranquility, with no thoughts of this world's cruelty.
Yet, as the droplets trickled down his face, they mixed with something else—tears he had buried deep within himself for far too long. Years of torment, his family slaughtered, his clan wiped out, his very life sacrificed in a desperate bid to save them. And in the end, after a fleeting moment of hope from the shard, everything had turned into a curse. He had been subjected to brutal torture, only to return and find that the very people he had died for had forgotten him… reduced him to a mere slave.
Anyone else would have gone mad.
Suddenly, a child's voice broke the silence.
"Did life hurt you?"
Louskas didn't react. He remained seated, eyes still closed. He already knew the owner of that voice—his only friend from his past life.
Eldron appeared as a phantom beside him, shifting his gaze to the child leaning against a tree. The old specter chuckled. Louskas already knew what he was going to say.
"One of the Ten Greats." Eldron smirked.
Yes. The only friend Louskas ever had in the clan. The boy who would one day become the strongest of the Ten Greats—Nyktos Solan.
Nyktos was the clan's prodigy. After discovering his talent, he had been taken under the wing of the Grand Elder and trained since he was six years old. During the Clan Tournament, he would turn the battlefield into a mere showcase of his power.
Perhaps this sacred land contributed to the clan's rise, but Nyktos was the true reason.
Perhaps that was why the clan was ultimately doomed.
Louskas slowly opened his eyes and looked at his friend. The boy was the same age as him, leaning casually against the tree. His long silver hair gleamed under the moonlight, his sharp blue eyes reflecting the night's glow. In his hand was a wine flask, and his black robes only enhanced his ethereal beauty. His innocent face radiated purity, but appearances were deceiving—this child was a monster among his peers.
With a bright smile, Louskas approached slowly. Nyktos' sharp gaze followed the peculiar slave until Louskas finally sat beside him. Their eyes met for a brief moment. When Nyktos looked into those cold black irises, he felt something strange.
For a second, he thought… maybe this guy was like him.
Excitement flickered in Nyktos' eyes.
But as Louskas moved closer, Nyktos' enthusiasm faded. No… this guy wasn't strong. In fact, he had no spiritual energy at all.
Disappointment.
Nyktos had always been superior to everyone. He even defeated some elders in spars. Life felt stale—where was the thrill? He was always searching for something… something that made his blood boil.
Louskas sat beside him, his gaze still fixed on the lake. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"What is life if not pain? What is it if not chains? Yes, it has hurt me deeply… but only the weak fall before suffering. I will conquer pain. I will surpass everything and everyone."
Nyktos observed him, an unreadable expression on his face. A mix of amusement, confusion, and intrigue. Then, he burst into laughter and patted Louskas on the back.
"Well said, my friend. Do you write poetry or something?"
Louskas smirked bitterly and lowered his head, playing the role of a defeated man.
"How could a mere slave like me write poetry, my lord?"
Nyktos frowned, his eyes sharp.
"What are you saying? What does being a slave have to do with it? Didn't you just say to break the chains? Then do it."
Louskas chuckled, his mind whispering, You're still the same, my friend. You never change.
Nyktos was someone who followed strength. If he wanted something, he took it. He feared nothing and ignored the opinions of others. But at the same time, he was no fool—he was a genius, always thinking ahead.
What Louskas admired most about him wasn't his strength, but his honor. Power never corrupted him. He walked his own path, crushing all obstacles in his way.
In Louskas' past life, he had never awakened his powers. He had always been an outcast. Before being exiled at nine, the only bright spot in his life had been Nyktos. Unlike Louskas, Nyktos was the clan's pride, their hope. Their bond was seen as a stain on Nyktos' reputation. A brilliant blade tainted by rust.
But Nyktos never cared for what others thought. He had beaten anyone who spoke ill of Louskas.
In truth, Nyktos never truly cared for the clan's interests. He felt indebted to them for raising him, but nothing more. After repaying his "debt" by leading the clan to new heights, he had left.
He had wandered the world… searching for his lost friend.
A true friend.
Louskas' smile grew as he looked at Nyktos with deep appreciation.
Nyktos noticed and suddenly recoiled.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Don't tell me you're one of those lunatics?"
Louskas laughed.
"I'm the lunatic? You're the one drinking wine before you've even hit eleven."
Nyktos studied him with a blank expression before shifting his gaze back to the lake.
"Wine clears the mind. You can understand life better when your thoughts aren't clouded. How can one grasp the truth if their mind is impure? And besides, who cares about laws?"
He took another sip from his flask.
Louskas tilted his head.
"This is the first time I've heard someone say wine clears the mind. Isn't it supposed to do the opposite? But doesn't that mean you're running away from your problems?"
He took the flask, drinking a small sip. Nyktos didn't care—He was waiting for a response.
"What you said… it reminds me of someone who sins against himself. Someone drowning in regret, hiding in dreams because he can't bear the weight of his mistakes. Instead of overcoming them, he clings to excuses, trapped in a fantasy of his own making."
To Louskas, the only true sin was against oneself. He saw others as tools to use for his own goals. No one had ever cared for him. Some pitied him, some mocked him. But in this moment, he felt grateful for those who had mocked him. At least they had never worn masks of kindness.
After a pause, he continued,
"Don't run from your flaws. Face them. Overcome them. That's what makes you stronger."
Nyktos smirked, unfazed.
"In this world, our problems come from our own choices. But what if we truly understood ourselves and this world? Wouldn't our decisions change? Blaming fate is just an excuse for the weak. Tell me, slave—do you believe in destiny?"
Louskas smirked.
"The real question is… so what if it exists? Who cares? Decide your own path. And if destiny stands in your way, break it. Even if I die, what matters is that I pursued my will, not some design set by another."
They continued their conversation, their voices blending with the scent of wine and the glow of the moon above.