“… Maybe, but you are powerless in this ntal space,” those voices of the elentals finally answered , now sounding more fused than before. “You may display your abilities as much as you want, but they are nothing more than petty forms of intimidation. You will stay here, demonkin, and you will serve your purpose until you are drained of all the ‘sins’ your bloodline has created in this world. Do not believe this is all.”
I scoffed. “Oh, you will lose this war! I, forr Warbringer Vifi’Yok, declare it with absolute certainty! Tasianna will break out of this stupor, I can assure you, and you imprisoning here will only be the catalyst for that. Your ti is limited, be aware of this.”
“Your life could have ended in bliss with your father and those fading mories you dearly wish were still true. I can sense your emotions through the mana flowing through you, demonkin. You wish for this.”
“So, I will reject it then! I am a good soldier, and I will continue listening to my orders. I will keep on fighting for my general and the optimistic dream I created after eting her. I am a tool of war—whether for Bole’Taria or Aurora—and I shall know no comfort until the war is over.”
“Ah, yes, for your people, correct? I can see your mories—of how you believed this dragon princess would free your people of their bloodline curse. Those emotions were created due to your kinship to the archdemon of wrath; those shackles that put your people under severe scrutiny, to the point even children are treated like looming threats. Very honorable… but in the end, completely naive,” the elentals stated. “Her voice may reach so, like you, but others will never be graced by her presence or words. She is no goddess or demi-goddess. She is but one small dragoness with a dream far too grand. Even if she succeeds in your plans, the fact of the matter is that it is impossible for her to uphold her promise to you, less she gives everything up to do so. Even her otherworldly technology will not bridge this gap.”
“The issues will be tackled when we reach that point. To consider the conclusion of a war—a war over 650 years of age—is nothing but foolishness. To plan for such an uncertainty is the stuff we ‘rats’ keep dreaming about without a real solution or path towards it. It’s all thinking and worrying, all while ti continues with nothing changed ‘cause we aren’t willing to take the first step,” I argued, holding steadfast to my adoptive father’s words. This was what made us Warbringers—for conflict was a catalyst for change.
“Such bravado, such arrogance, such… fae-like wishfulness,” the voice echoed throughout this “dream.” “I had hoped those thoughts of yours would make it easy if I showed you your father—the one to reach his hand out to help you—but it seed that wasn’t enough. Fine. If you do not want to accept bliss and live in this dream, then I will remind you why it is better to accept happiness than pain.”
The space around twisted and changed, but the overall gloominess hadn’t. The dry-looking mountains, the cracking soil, and the biting cold even as the sun glared at us. I could sll the hosickness before the scenery fully manifested… and I could already feel my stomach churning as sun-burned fish, skin-burning gunk, and the buzzing flies floating above our slapped-together “tube” houses flashed before my eyes. Monts later, all of that ca true.
Urgh… I wanted to vomit.
This… this was where I was born and lived for most of my life until I volunteered for the army.
This is my “ho” city, Eins’Kown.
Eins’Kown was a harbor city in the northwest of Bole’Taria on the Nurus continent, located just on the habitable edge of the “Twin-Elental Lake” zone. aning, our city was the closest civilization to that reminder of the first divine taboo, yet, funnily enough, the city was founded after the dungeon explosion and Plesia’s wrath descended. Ha… if the area wasn’t used to train both sailors and soldiers, I would have questioned why anybody even wanted to make a settlent in such a dangerous area.
Yet, why did any race make dungeon cities, when the chance of a dungeon break could lead to so many people dying? Resources, of course. Just like cities like Inkoran-Tazul, Eins’Kown was one of these frontier cities responsible for the acquisition of certain materials while serving as a place to train.
Yet, due to this fact, I was made an orphan.
I didn’t know my parents, being abandoned in the slums after both of them died for so reason. They could’ve been sailors, soldiers, or even thieves like , but what was important was that they were no-nas. My fellow urchins, those who took in and raised , told my parents were most likely fortune seekers—adventurers, to us demonkin—who got together in one of the many community houses. They got together, my father died sowhere, my mother tried to keep fed apparently, but failed and died. With orphaned, I was literally thrown out of the community house and into one of the many urchin hos.
That was my background, the sa one I told everybody in Aurora. Pff, yet here I was, having to relive all this crap again.
Just look at these streets… I let out a defeated sigh as I saw the trash, insects, and piss water-like puddles everywhere, staining the stone-laid streets as the sun was grilling everything up. Although the mory shouldn’t cause any slls, the visuals gave off such a stench that I was getting a bit embarrassed of my own birthplace. rely looking at it made appreciate how much people valued cleanliness on this side of the world.
Not to ntion the abundance of space. Humans didn’t know how fortunate they were to have so much farming area that they didn’t have to worry about possibly building hos over them. Even the claustrophobic nature of a dwarven hold still felt liberating and free with their usage of their minecart transportation system and how they could just dig deeper into a mountain to make more room for people.
Envy was the perfect term to describe how I felt when I witnessed my first northern city in Estralia’s Gleisvale. They could afford to design their hos in an aesthetically pleasing manner while making sure it could accommodate people; such luxury they didn’t really appreciate.
anwhile, space was scarce. Those “cuboid” houses, designed like long rectangles that stretched as far up as possible, were made like apartnts to house multiple families in small, barely liveable “boxes.” Habitable spaces were limited in Bole’Tarian cities and towns, to the point you even had barracks for the truly downtrodden, like my “orphanage,” if you could even call it so. So many people were packed inside these barracks that privacy was a foreign word, even in our bathrooms. It was like a prison.
To us demonkin, who were forced to live on mountainous terrains and infertile land while being tornted by terrible natural disasters caused by the damn cold and high mana concentration everywhere, areas you could use for agriculture and husbandry were even more valuable than our noble’s lives. Due to our kingdom’s decree of serving the war effort, procreation was heavily enforced on all families. Even the lust demonkin acting as prostitutes were encouraged to bear children, as they did whatever they could to alleviate the emotional anguish most of us would be in. That demanded food.
Our culture was forced into a hunter and gathering system with heavy raids on Folschreckian land, as we couldn’t support our ever-increasing population from land itself. Even our land acquisition from the war was done primarily for bountiful farmland, which led to many fleeing human armies or villages to resort to burning down their fields to cripple us. The one stable food industry we had, though, was fishing, and with all the mana concentration, our focus on seafood was the main reason why we haven’t collapsed yet as a society.
Yet, I couldn’t bear the sll at all. Seafood, rfiend, anything that reeked of the salty sea disgusted . Having to live in this putrid harbor with stalls full of dead fish being grilled from the sun even until the afternoon would make even the most desperate rats hesitant to eat fish again. I forced myself, though, for the sake of surviving, and now that I didn’t have to, I willingly abstained from it. Even in Iceskale, where seafood was more abundant than mutton.
I enjoyed this luxury. The luxury of eating delicious pastries every day. Haaa, the gift from the land that my people would never be able to imagine.
“And this gift will remain elusive even if you manage to fulfill your goals. Such indulgences will require centuries of work,” the elentals stated while I reminisced. “You were one of the fortunate, but not because you received such gifts, you escaped from your tornt. You ran.”
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“Like a rat,” I added as the view changed, switching to my “orphanage” in one of the corners of the wrath section of the city. A “quarantine” area, honestly, since wrathies were known to go berserk.
Like many other buildings, my ho was a vertical cuboid made from bricks with a tal sheet as a roof cover, making the rainy season a sound pollution problem. Although, most of us got used to it. The shrill, tallic thudding caused by raindrops landing on the tal sheet honestly made feel safe. It ant that our ho didn’t need any repairs, as that only ant we had to pay our hoowner even more money.
As ntioned beforehand, I was one of many urchins abandoned in this “orphanage,” taken care of by the older mbers as the only real adult was our hoowner—a kingdom official responsible for orphan managent. They, as the hoowner kept changing every other month, barely interacted with us, only there to speak when they had to gather up the rent of the many orphanages they were managing.
Honestly, considering living space was a luxury to us demonkin, it was fair, even if we kids were forced to work before we could even speak properly. We technically had a roof over our heads secured as long as we remained underage and could pay the rent, and due to this, everybody inside had to work, lest they would be kicked out by our own mbers. Work to be fed, was the idea.
Yet, since we had to work even from a young age, the choice of work we would do varied, leading many to criminal activities to maintain the quota. Fortunately, these street gangs were led by forr orphans who grew up and were forced out of the orphanages. Essentially, we protected each other even if we couldn’t trust one another. Every orphan here was raised by a neighbourhood of urchins.
Even if we didn’t share blood or even the sa sin race—these orphanages accepted any subrace, even if we were in the wrathie section—we took care of each other like a big fucked up family of rats, ready to help another but also willing to bite each other’s tails to get food. It wasn’t done out of love or affection, but for survival.
Ahh, I can’t even rember any of you… I frowned as the faces running past were obscured by shadows. Like a big rat family, most of us probably didn’t rember each other anyways. Why even do so, when it was likely most would die anyway.
We might have had the protection of the orphanage, but that didn’t an we were safe.
“No, nyo, pwease—Urrghk!” a little girl who looked just like scread, pleading for her life, after she failed to steal a literal small chunk of fish at that the fishmonger accidentally cut off.
I didn’t rember my fellow urchins, but I sure rembered my failures. This was my first of many lessons.
I swooped in like a hungry wolf when I saw that fish chunk fall onto the ground, touching the slly fish blood and insect-ridden guts there, and ran as fast as I could. Sadly, when the fishmonger shouted at , I jerked up and slipped on so of these guts, giving my pursuer the chance to catch eventually in an alley.
The fishmonger, a healthy, muscular fisher—as many fishers and sailors were—slamd against the wall and stomped on the at chunk, saring it on the ground until it was paste. He smacked right in the face, causing to nearly fall unconscious as he beat the shit out of until I blacked out. , a young six-year-old who couldn’t even speak, nearly died there. I only survived it since one of my fellow orphans found in ti before I bled out, bringing to one of the adult urchins for first-aid.
I stayed in a coma for two days, completely hungry all that ti, and when I woke up, I learned that my savior had died the very next day. Their target was a rchant, and when they failed, the man had his guards drown my savior. That was a second lesson, and the reason why I never rembered any of my fellows.
My first lesson: feeling hungry was better than acting on desperation, as that would only lead to my death. The second lesson: living was all that mattered.
Every failure led to a new lesson or a new skill acquisition. I would level up by killing the random fish, vermin, and giant insects that ca too close to our hos due to monster spawning. I would train my stats by traversing the rooftops and alleyways, utilizing the claustrophobic nature of it all to learn urban warfare from my seniors. As long as I got stronger, it was worth it all. My stunted height, from not eating enough, was a cost I was willing to pay for my survival.
And all while I did so, I was kept under scrutiny as a wrathie. M.E.P.—maximum emotional potential—was 100% in all three emotions, causing us to go berserk. The fact that we were ticking ti bombs made it hard for anybody to treat us as anything but a walking monster. I was okay with it. Being a loner felt safer, anyway.
When the ti finally ca for to choose my elental alignnt, as this was our bloodline gift from being wrathies, I chose the lightning elent. These centers where we chose our elent were equipped with manatech that helped us wrathies learn what our natural alignnt was, and while we could choose sothing else, I didn’t. I knew lightning was the perfect choice for , as sobody who always survived as scavenger and thief. Just like the storms flooding through our streets during the rainy season, I dread of being like thunder breaking through all the noise.
I might have thrown away my childlike naivety the day I nearly died for the first ti, but dreaming was still sothing I did. It was the only way for to keep my emotions in check. Hestia might have hit the nail on its head when she said that most of us urchins didn’t have the energy or hope to spare to be joyful. A part of always held onto so wishful thinking to continue living.
Due to this, on the sa day I acquired [Elental Manifestation], I imdiately enlisted. No hope could be found where I was born.
“It went well,” the elental added as the scenery shifted, away from Eins’Kown, to a boot camp where I was trained as a wrath soldier. I would master [Elental isterweapon] like all wrathies and also earn the discipline to keep my emotions in check to serve my kingdom and race in the human-demonkin war.
At that ti, I was only nine, though. A child soldier, even with Bole’Taria’s warlike nature, but I was a wrathie. While it was frowned upon to enlist the children of the other sins at such an age, it was different to us wrathies due to our [Wrathful Emotions]. The kingdom actively wished for us wrathies to enlist early to gain the discipline and know-how to keep our emotions in check. We were their ideal soldiers—naturally gifted for combat and in need of new stimuli to keep up with L.E.P.
The first year in the army was tough. I was malnourished and lacked Job levels since I never got one until I enlisted, so my drill captains made sure and my fellow wrath urchins were properly trained. We would be sent out with older wrathies to hunt, slowly gaining experience, training our fighting instincts, and learning from our seniors on discipline.
Unlike with my orphanage, it was here that I finally learned about kinship and camaraderie. Yes, we couldn’t trust each other since we all learned the sa lessons when we were young, but trusting each other was better than trusting the other sin types. The army knew exactly how to keep us shackled like beasts and how to ta us like indoctrinated loyalists. Soldiers who fought with such reckless zeal, like my forr apprentice Hee’Rlak, were the best for the army and the Prince of Wrath.
Unfortunately, I never developed those ideas. Whether it was due to how our rations were dried fish and always made want to puke, or how I learned to worship Marsven from my fellow soldiers, I never felt such blind loyalty to the kingdom, even if I wanted it to flourish. I only developed this desire to change my circumstances. Haha, I might have saved myself from dying in Elyonda by being too selfish. Maybe I did have so lust inside my bloodline, for that sounded like such a hedonistic thing to do.
Regardless of this, two years passed pretty quickly until I was finally given a rank and was sent to serve the kingdom as a trained soldier. Though, that still didn’t an my rations had changed much. Well, I was still at the bottom of the barrel, after all. That part of my life hadn’t changed, and I sure as heck didn’t want to stay here for the rest of my life.
“And that was when you heard her words. The tempting words that led you into that monster area that will change your life forever,” the elentals’ voice echoed through my mind. I could feel ntal fatigue settling in, overburdened by having to rember all these mories. “She who helped you, the one even you would consider your first friend. Yet, your choices led to the both of you separating. You severed the bond.”
“She was not really my friend, the one who thought so was her. She alone made the bond; I did nothing,” I argued as a certain pink-head started to manifest in my head.
“Such lies. To yourself? You are willing to face your past and everything I showed you, but the one person you cannot even be truthful towards, not even in your own dream, is this demonkin of lust?” the elentals mocked , their voices taunting . “Ah, but why must you answer this question? I can simply extract everything from your mind. Here it is.”
“Lady Jumi’Yal!”
My body jerked up as if a lightning bolt had struck . I turned around to see a parade as two lines of soldiers cheered and saluted as a carriage moved through the training camp. Lust soldiers with skeletal-flesh wings, similar to the ones Ellaine could create, flanked the carriage on the side, clearly enjoying the jubilation and cheers they were receiving, even if it wasn’t directed at them.
I could see my past self in the crowd of soon-to-graduate soldiers, as this was our last day here. I hadn’t changed much outside of gaining a bulkier build and more stoic expression as I stood there out of respect. We weren’t forbidden to cheer, but I had no need, even if the one to arrive was sobody of importance.
After all, us lowly foot soldiers would be graced by the presence of a sin heir—the sin heir of lust.
As the carriage parked, the door burst open, to reveal a young woman in her mid-twenties. Her pink hair, tied together in a side tail, fluttered like silk as she showed everybody a wide smile.
“Good day, all you brave soldiers! My na is Jumi, of the Yal family! Relative of the current Prince of Lust and also one of her sin heirs! May the Edjurl Gods and Marsven bless us, and even if they won’t, I will!”
Today was the day I would et my future fellow sin heir.
“You an, ‘today is the day I would et my first friend,’” the elentals corrected.
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