Two years and six months.
That was how long I had been training under Lou.
And yet… I was still here.
Still in the damned Beast Territory.
Still under his so-called care.
Who would've thought that more than two years of grueling training wouldn't be enough for the great me?
Seasons had passed, shifting the landscape around me. The once vibrant greens of summer had melted into autumn's fiery hues, painting the wilderness in shades of change. But despite all the time that had gone by, I still hadn't reached that milestone.
And it was eating me alive.
No matter how hard I pushed, how much I fought, I still couldn't keep up with that freak Lou. His horns had even grown since I first met him, curving into an even more respectable shape—like his strength was just showing off at this point.
Tsk. Annoying.
Still, time—even wasted time—had its benefits.
My stride had grown lighter. My reflexes had sharpened. My once fragile frame no longer felt like a disadvantage. I had mastered more Flow abilities than I could count—night vision, advanced body enhancements, and countless others that had reshaped the way I moved, fought, existed.
And today, I was putting all of it to use.
I tore through the dense, ancient forest, a blur of motion as I pursued my latest target—an Eldritch Terror.
A six-meter-tall nightmare of a beast lumbered ahead of me, its three grotesque arms flailing in panic. Its skin, the sickly hue of rotting swamp water, pulsed with every ragged breath. Five mismatched eyes—some reptilian, others insectoid—darted in all directions, searching desperately for an escape.
Terrifying.
Grotesque.
And, oddly enough… mouthwatering.
I could still remember the last one I tasted.
That indescribable, otherworldly flavor. The way its meat had melted on my tongue, rich and deep and absolutely divine.
The mere memory fueled my pursuit.
But this wasn't just about training anymore.
No.
This time, I wouldn't let it escape.
This time, I would catch it.
Not just to prove I wasn't some waste of space in this cursed forest.
Not just to prove I had grown stronger.
But because, dammit—I wanted to eat it.
And what of it?
Lou kept pace with me for a brief moment, his eyes glinting with something between amusement and assessment. "Think you can snag this one yourself, Bug?" he rumbled.
My chest puffed up, irritation flaring at that stupid nickname. Who did he think he was talking to, huh?
I clenched my jaw, forcing out the very words he wanted to hear. "I'll see what I can do."
It wasn't just about catching the Eldritch Terror anymore. No—this was my moment. If I wanted to prove myself, if I really wanted to surpass my limits, I had to outrun the fastest Flow-Beast in existence. Only then would I be satisfied with my speed.
Years of Lou's gruff teachings surged through my mind.
Focus. Channel. Explode.
I snarled under my breath, forcing too much Flow into my legs. A surge of raw power shot through my body, burning like liquid fire in my veins. The familiar tingling built to a crescendo, morphing into something more. Faster. Sharper.
I blasted forward.
The distance between me and the lumbering beast evaporated in an instant.
A rustling sound behind me signaled Lou's abrupt retreat. He freaking sat down!
The lazy git!
I grumbled under my breath, "Don't even wanna stay and watch me faceplant, huh?"
That half-second of distraction nearly cost me.
The Eldritch Terror whirled around, far too fast for something its size, its gaping maw splitting open in a grotesque roar. A colossal, three-jointed arm lashed out, carving through the air with a sickly green wind.
YIKES.
I reacted on pure instinct.
I launched myself upward, twisting midair just as the monstrous limb whooshed past my ear.
My foot found solid purchase on the beast's outstretched arm.
Perfect.
A wicked grin spread across my face.
Adrenaline Rush—now!
Flow and Adrenaline surged. My muscles screamed.
I kicked off its arm, using the momentum to propel myself straight onto the pulsating mass of its head. Before it could react, I drove my foot into its skull with all my might.
BOOM!
The Eldritch Terror lurched backward, staggering a solid ten meters. A wet, surprised gurgle escaped its twisted maw.
My eyes widened.
Holy moly—
Did I just kick it that far?!
I could do this.
I could actually kill this thing without Lou's help.
The Eldritch Terror bellowed, its scream a primal blend of fear and defiance. It lurched forward, its movements sharper, faster—like a cornered animal sensing its impending doom.
Oh?
Did it really think it was the only one holding back?
A sharp thrill coursed through me. I welcomed the rush of Adrenaline flooding my veins even more, the world sharpening into crystalline clarity. With a flick of my wrist, the Morphblade materialized in my grip, its familiar weight settling into my palm.
Time to end this.
I raised my weapon high, channeling an unstable surge of Flow through it. The hilt trembled, then SNAPPED—warping, stretching—its sleek form unraveling into a luminous ribbon of energy.
A whip.
My grip tightened around the hilt as my eyes flickered toward a massive tree in the Eldritch Terror's path.
Perfect.
I swung.
The glowing whip cracked through the air and slammed into the thick trunk with a satisfying thunk, embedding itself deep into the bark.
Before the beast could react, I yanked hard.
The world blurred.
Air rushed past my face as I launched forward, the sheer force of my movement rocketing me through the canopy.
Damn—so fast—ALLALALA!!
My feet slammed into the trunk, landing in a crouch, just inches away from my prey.
The Eldritch Terror screeched in alarm, its grotesque form jerking to a halt—too slow, too late.
I exhaled sharply.
No more running.
The Morphblade shifted again, the energy condensing, solidifying.
A new shape took form in my hands—long, curved, menacing.
Death's Tear.
The ethereal glow of my scythe illuminated the horror in the creature's mismatched eyes.
I tilted my head, "You see, I don't wanna play tag anymore."
And then I swung.
The scythe carved through flesh with eerie precision. The Eldritch Terror gurgled—its massive body frozen in stunned silence—before it collapsed in two clean halves.
The only sound left was the ragged rhythm of my own breath.
I channeled the lingering Flow back into my body, feeling the rush of power settle. The Morphblade shimmered before retracting into a simple hilt, which I tucked into my pocket with practiced ease.
Only then did I allow myself to truly look at the fallen Eldritch Terror.
And oh, by the heavens above—
My mouth watered instantly.
For hell's sake, I was already drooling.
I swiped a sleeve across my chin, wiping away the betraying saliva. Not yet, self. Hold it together.
But dinner? Oh, dinner was officially secured.
I turned my head, scanning the surroundings—Lou's presence had drifted a good mile away.
Seriously? Did that lazy bastard really run off to take a nap again?
Fine. I'd make sure he heard me.
I filled my lungs to capacity—then let loose a scream loud enough to make ghosts tremble.
"LOU! GET OVER HERE! TIME TO COOK!"
The forest stilled for half a second.
Then—rustle—crack—the distant crunch of leaves announced his approach.
I smirked. Knew it. He totally ran to get here.
Seconds later, Lou emerged from the treeline, his towering frame casting a shadow over the clearing. His expression was unreadable—until he saw the still-warm corpse at my feet.
I spread my arms wide, grinning from ear to ear. "Look what I got!"
He… didn't look impressed.
Instead, he sighed—long, slow, exasperated. "Seriously, Bug," he muttered, raking a hand through his dark hair. "Screaming isn't exactly the best option here, you know."
I snorted. "Oh, please. You weren't gonna show up unless I screamed, were you?"
Lou didn't bother answering. Instead, he strode toward the Eldritch Terror, his massive sword gleaming under the dappled light. Without hesitation, he drove it down, slicing through monstrous flesh with a level of expertise I couldn't help but respect.
Piece by piece, the grotesque corpse was broken down into—well, let's call them manageable cuts.
And then—without missing a beat—he started cooking.
Lou, the walking disaster of a mentor, the gruff battle-hardened warrior, was now gracefully preparing a meal like some high-class chef.
I stared, watching as he worked the flames, seasoning the meat with an assortment of strange powders he pulled from who-knows-where. The sizzling aroma of roasting Eldritch flesh soon filled the air, rich and tantalizing.
I huffed in amusement, arms crossed. I bet he didn't realize he was giving Bruno serious competition for the 'Best Male Cook' title.
Really! Who knew this dude could be such a culinary genius?
The stew bubbled merrily in the cast iron pot, its rich aroma curling into the crisp evening air. Every inhale was sheer torture—I could practically taste the savory depth of the broth before a single drop even touched my tongue.
RUMBLE.
I slapped a hand over my stomach, face burning in humiliation.
Crap. Lou definitely heard that.
I peeked up cautiously. Sure enough, his eyes flicked toward me.
Oh, come on. Not girly behavior at all, tummy. What happened to self-control?
Lou finally ladled out two steaming bowls and handed me one. Without hesitation, I plopped down across from him by the fire, barely waiting for the heat to subside before taking my first bite.
The second the stew hit my tongue, I nearly melted on the spot.
A downright inappropriate moan (not the kind you're thinking of, perv) escaped my lips.
"Pure heaven," I breathed, already shoveling another spoonful into my mouth.
Lou actually chuckled—a rare, uncharacteristic sound. More surprising than that? His eyes were… at least 60% open.
"See?" he drawled, stirring his own bowl lazily. "Told you you'd like it."
I grunted in agreement, too busy inhaling the stew to respond properly.
Then, casually—too casually—Lou reached into his pack and pulled out a dark glass bottle, raising it high. The firelight caught the label, its deep crimson hue betraying its contents.
Wine.
"Speaking of which," he mused, swirling the bottle with practiced ease, "remember that red we found last time?"
I froze mid-chew.
Oh.
My brows furrowed. Wine? Lou and I had both stumbled across it in the forest a while back, but I hadn't thought much of it. One thing was certain, though—Bruno and Elza had explicitly forbidden it.
"Uh, yeah," I said cautiously, lowering my spoon.
Lou's grin widened. "Think it'd pair nicely with the stew?" His tone was dripping with temptation.
I narrowed my eyes. "No way."
His smirk didn't waver. "Oh, come on. Kids nowadays start drinking at, what, Whenever they want? You're practically behind."
I scoffed, crossing my arms. "I gotta keep my body clean, you know? Father's orders."
And just like that, the playful glint in Lou's eyes vanished.
His smirk turned into a deep frown, frustration creeping into the lines of his face. "Always Father's orders," he muttered, rolling his eyes skyward. "You're nine, Bug. Not five. Learn to think for yourself."
I bristled instantly.
"Hey!" I pointed my spoon at him like a weapon. "I'm the one who's nine, not some ancient, grumpy troll. So act like a grown up and give me a break! Maybe you should listen to me for a change!"
A tense silence stretched between us. The fire crackled, the scent of the stew still thick in the air.
Then—
"...Arrogant Bug."
The final bite of stew scraped against the bottom of my bowl.
I stared down at the emptiness.
That's it? That's all I get?
Dinner had ended way too fast. Disappointing.
But something was off.
Across the fire, Lou's gaze never wavered. It weighed on me, sharp and unrelenting, like he was trying to burn a hole straight through my skull.
A prickling sensation crawled up my spine. My appetite, which had been in full force mere moments ago, suddenly felt choked off mid-chew.
What was with this tension? Was he trying to intimidate me?
For hell's sake, stop looking at me like that!
I clenched my jaw, fingers tightening around the bowl in my hands. The urge to hurl it across the fire swelled inside me, growing dangerously tempting.
That's it. You asked for it, freaky Lou.
With a sharp flick of my wrist, I chucked the bowl straight at his face.
"You're freaking me out!"
BING!
The impact rang out, the bowl bouncing off his forehead with surprising force.
Lou flinched, a startled grunt escaping his lips. "Ow!" He rubbed at the spot gingerly, scowling. "Jeez, Bug! You used to have some manners."
I crossed my arms, scowling right back. "Yeah? And you used to have more boundaries."
He let out a deep sigh, the kind that seemed to rumble from somewhere deep within his chest. Something serious was coming—I could feel it.
"There's something about you," he said, voice lower now. "It's been almost three years since I took you under my wing, and I still can't quite put my finger on what it is."
My heart thudded.
Lou's eyes darkened, the flickering firelight making him look eerily unreadable.
"You're only nine," he continued, "But you fight and train like someone twice—no, three times—your age. And it's not just your skills. It's the way you think, the way you speak."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze pinning me in place.
"I still remember our first meeting. The way you talked to me back then… it sent chills down my spine."
I swallowed.
Lou's brow furrowed as if he was working through something heavy. Then, in a tone softer than I'd ever heard from him before, he muttered:
"Bug… this might sting a bit, but… you're not just gifted. You're different."
A pause.
"So different that most people—" He exhaled sharply. "Most people would want to keep a safe distance from you."
A bitter smile curled my lips.
Lou's words weren't a compliment. They weren't even an insult.
They were a truth—cold, undeniable, and familiar.
Different.
Isolated.
Just like before.
A wave of unwanted nostalgia crashed over me, dragging me back to memories I'd rather forget. Hushed whispers. Fearful glances. A space carved between me and everyone else.
The fire crackled, warm and alive. Yet, all I felt was the creeping chill of the past.
A humorless chuckle escaped my throat—empty, brittle.
I pulled my knees close, resting my chin in them.
"Lou," I mumbled, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Did you know… normal kids start school at five?"
Silence.
For the first time, I wasn't just talking to myself. For the first time, someone was listening.
Really listening.
Lou. He was here.
"Six years in elementary," I continued, my voice steadier now. "Three years in prep school. Four years in secondary. Baccalaureate exams, universities, careers…"
Each word stacked like bricks—forming a wall I would never get to climb.
"Friendships. Relationships. Laughter. Tears. Memories…"
I exhaled slowly, staring into the flickering flames.
"And yet…"
A lump formed in my throat, the ache clawing its way up. I swallowed hard, willing it down.
"And yet," I rasped, voice thick, raw, "that ordinary life… it was never mine."
It was dreamlike.
Far away.
Unreachable.
"Ordinary…" My laugh was hollow, devoid of warmth. "For years, I craved it. But fate seems to have other plans."
My fingers curled into my knees.
"It's like my destiny was carved from a different stone—a path never meant to be mine."
The silence that followed was thick, heavy, suffocating.
Finally, I dared to peek up at Lou.
His usual gruffness had vanished. In its place was something… deeper. A quiet understanding. A reflection of my pain.
He didn't flinch. He didn't look away.
He simply listened.
And that… that made something twist painfully in my chest.
I let out a long sigh, rolling onto my side, turning my back to him.
"It's your turn to keep watch tonight." My voice was quieter now, almost back to normal. Almost.
"Goodnight, Lou."
I needed to stop this. I needed to pull it together.
The stoicism I once wore like armor was slipping—I had to reclaim it before it was too late.
I could feel Lou standing, his movements slow, deliberate. Leaves rustled as he shifted.
"Yeah," he murmured.
A pause.
"Night, Bug."