— Freed’s POV —
“Bintang…”
The voice ca softly—too softly—like it was crawling under my skin.
“Why did you take us to Bali?”
The world around shuddered.
I stood in the middle of a twisted highway, the blacktop lted and cracked, lined with the smoldering carcasses of cars. The air reeked of gasoline, burnt plastic, and death. A familiar shape rose from the wreckage ahead.
My old car. Crushed. Smoking. Red flas licking the sides.
And in front of it, two familiar figures stood upright—my mother and father.
Their black eyes—once gentle—were now vacant, glazed over with the chill of death. Shards of shattered windshield glass pierced their faces, necks, and limbs. My father’s jaw hung crooked, a tal pipe skewering his abdon. My mother’s skull was partially caved in, fragnts of bone clinging to her blood-soaked hair.
“Because of you… we died.”
“You wanted us to die.”
“No...! I just wanted to spend ti with you—!”
“Then why were we the only ones who died, Bintang?”
“Why are you still alive?”
“Did you wish for our demise… to be free?”
“Did our deaths liberate you?”
“No…! Mom! Dad! No… please...!”
I stepped back—but couldn’t run. My feet were sinking into the road, the asphalt lting around my legs like tar. I shook my head, sobbing.
Their forms flickered. The flas engulfed them. They didn’t scream. They only stared at . Even as their flesh lted.
My step was stopped by the tree behind .
And the burning road beca smoke and ash,
It cracked open beneath my feet, I slumped down as my vision filled with wildfire, and suddenly I was sowhere else.
The outskirts of my village.
The sky above was dark, choked by smoke. Flas devoured the hos in the distance. Screams echoed like fading mories. The trees were blackened skeletons. The earth soaked red.
And there—knelt right before —my current parents.
My father’s navy blue hair was stained with ash and blood. A greatsword impaled his chest, pinning him like a hunted animal. His fingers were still clenched around the tree behind , like he died trying to protect.
In between us, my mother draped over my fallen body—her blonde hair tangled, crimson eyes glassy and fixed on nothing. The sa greatsword had torn straight through her chest. Her blood had pooled under .
My eyes trembled.
“Freed…”
“Why did you return to the village?”
“We told you not to.”
“We died trying to keep you safe.”
“No…! I didn’t know...! I didn’t an—”
“You knew.”
“You felt it.”
“And still you ca.”
“Did our deaths buy you sothing, Freed?”
“Strength? Power?”
“Were we just sacrifices?”
“Was it worth it?”
“No…! Never! I swear…!”
“Then why did you survive, Freed?”
“Why do you still draw breath when our hearts were crushed beneath a blade?”
My chest tightened, my breath ragged. My hands trembled.
Their voices were calm. Too calm. It hurt more than if they had scread.
“You killed us.”
“You killed your parents.”
“No! No…! I didn’t—!”
A cold gust slashed through the darkness.
Flas erupted behind them. Their corpses disintegrated, not into ash—but into accusations. The air grew heavier.
And then—a new place.
The entrance to the village gates.
The flas were closer here. The air was choking, and blood soaked the dirt. I knew this place. I had run past it. I had stepped over the corpses.
“Freed…”
I turned.
There they were.
Sis Celes and Sissy.
Sis Celes leaned against a crumbling post, one arm hanging by a tendon, her navy blue hair matted with blood and soot. Slashes criss crossed her body, her chest barely rising. One eye was swollen shut. Her voice was soft—but cracked like broken glass.
“We tried…” Sis Celes whispered, “to reach you.”
Beside her was Sissy. Her short blonde hair was clotted with mud and blood. Her crimson eyes, wide in terror, stared into mine. Her arms hung awkwardly—one broken, the other still gripping a rusty sword. Her stomach had been slashed open. Her breath gurgled.
“You promised to protect us, Freed.” Sissy’s voice was soft.
Their clothes were torn, hanging in tatters. Blood soaked them—not just theirs. The scent of iron choked the air.
“We tried to save you.”
“We fought for you. We bled for you.”
“We believed you would protect us.”
“But you watched.”
“No...! I didn’t want that...! I—I was too weak!”
“Did you even care, Freed?”
“Did you let us die… just to stay alive?”
“No...! Sis, Daisy, I love you! I tried! I—”
“You did nothing.”
“You should’ve saved us.”
“You stood there while we scread.”
“While they tore us apart.”
“You watched us fall.”
“You. Did. Nothing.”
Tears gushed from my eyes, mingling with the dust. My screams choked in my throat.
“No…! I never wanted this...!”
Then—The previous four figures appeared again, surrounding .
Their voices split—becoming layered echoes. Overlapping. Repeating.
““Why, Bintang?””
““Why, Freed?””
The world collapsed into fire.
The village gates twisted, lting into the wreckage of the car.
Flas surged.
Greatswords pierced the earth.
Shattered glass rained from a burning sky.
And through it all, their faces stared at .
Bloodied. Hollow. Silent.
““Why did you let us die?””
““Why are you still alive?””
““Why do you keep living while we die over and over again?””
““Do you love us only when we’re corpses?””
““Why didn’t you protect us?””
““Why? Why? Why? Why? Why—””
““YOU KILLED US.””
““YOU KILLED YOUR FAMILY.””
““You let us die.””
““You let us DIE.””
““Why did you kill us?””
““Why didn’t you protect us?””
““Why? Why? Why? Why? WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhy—””
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
The ground split open beneath my feet.
I fell—down, down—through fire, through screams, through silence.
Gasp—!
Haa—haa—haa—!
My eyes flew open.
Darkness.
Only darkness.
The suffocating orange glow was gone. No flas. No screams. Only the dim, rotting scent of mildew, sweat, and dust. My breath ca in ragged gulps, my chest heaving.
The silence of the shabby building wrapped around . Heavy. Still.
It had been two years. Two whole years as a slave. And still, the nightmares devoured what little sleep I managed.
Every night, they ca.
My past. My failure.
My family dragged through hell again and again.
I sat up slowly. My arms ached, but not from sleep. There was never sleep—only brief blackouts before the nightmare ca to collect its due.
I glanced around.
Everyone else was still asleep. The crumbling walls of the slave quarters swallowed the moonlight.
【Good morning, Master. Current ti: 01:10 AM.】
Aza’s voice cut through the silence, clinical but comforting in its own strange way.
I stood, and slipped quietly into the night.
Ti to carve the guilt out of .
Ti to punish this body.
My aura and mana were sealed. That left only one path: raw physical training.
I stretched briefly. Then began push-ups.
In the beginning, ten had pushed to collapse. Now, my body carved itself into muscle through relentless grind. My pace quickened with each session, my body moving like a machine of flesh.
【998... 999… 1000. It’s done, Master.】
Haa… Haa… Ha…
I couldn’t even speak. My voice was long gone. Aza kept count for .
【35 minutes, 7 seconds. A new record, Master!】
Her voice had changed over the years. No longer cold and robotic—more human now. A chirpy, girlish tone.
The voice of soone who stayed when everyone else vanished. My only companion in this dungeon of despair.
The surreal nature of this fantasy world hit once more. Despite the exertion, I didn't feel the usual fatigue after completing 1000 push-ups.
【Not yet, Master. You have to maintain a balanced workout. Increase it after you finish each exercise within 30 minutes.】
【Now, start sit-ups 1000 tis.】
And so it went.
Sit-ups. Pull-ups. A thousand each. Then 1000 laps around the building, feet pounding dirt until blisters beca scars. I ended with an hour of Breeze Footwork, honing movents I could no longer infuse with aura—but the technique was still mine.
My body moved faster than it should’ve. The exhaustion… it should have been overwhelming. But it wasn’t. Not anymore.
Finally, drenched in sweat, I slipped into the nearby river. The cold water stung like needles—but it washed the nightmare away.
For a while.
I returned to the slave quarters, blending back into the shadows, pretending to sleep once more.
No one knew.
No one ever would.
— Celestia’s POV —
*BOOM!* *BOOM!*
"Ninety-eight.”
*BOOM!* *BOOM!*
"Ninety-nine. One more lap.”
*BOOM!* *BOOM!*
"One hundred. Okay, stop!"
"Yes, Teacher! Haa… haa… ha…”
My legs buckled, lungs burning as I finally ca to a halt. I wasn’t just running in a circle—I’d just completed a hundred laps around the entire training town. Or more accurately, around the entire town itself!
That’s how Karin trains . Brutal. Insane. Ruthless.
She made sprint around the outside of the town walls, cloaked in water aura to protect my body, and reinforced my legs with water mana to increase speed. That alone would’ve been tough—but no, not enough for Karin.
She attacked . While I ran.
I had to cast multiple layers of water barriers on the move to block her relentless barrage. She even forced to fire counter-magic—mid-run—to disrupt her spells before they hit .
And this was her holding back!
If one of her attacks slipped past my defenses, I’d be lucky to walk away with only broken bones. She doesn’t go easy just because I’m her student.
She said it was because I can control multiple types of magic. So she used it—against . A personalized training regin from hell. No, calling her a demon is too kind.
She’s far worse.
Despite the grueling session, still gasping for breath, I stood upright, wiped the sweat from my brow, and bowed.
“Thanks for today, teacher!”
Karin gave a curt nod. “You're improving. You should be able to take on several C-Rank monsters on your own now.”
“Really!?”
“Yes. The attacks I used today were actually B-Rank level. You managed to block them all. So dealing with a C-Rank or even a weaker B-Rank monster head-on shouldn’t be a problem.”
My eyes twitched.
“...I will pretend I didn’t hear that you were throwing B-Rank attacks even though you promised they’d be scaled to C-Rank.”
She smiled. That terrifying, elegant smile.
“Well, you blocked them all, didn’t you?”
“Yeah... sohow.” I glanced down at my arms—still shaking slightly.
So that’s why it felt impossible. She kept ramping up the intensity every ti… adjusting to my growth without telling .
She really is a demon!
“But... does that an I've surpassed my mom…?”
Karin’s expression turned thoughtful. “If you an Sheryl in her pri, during her adventurer days—then yes. Stat-wise and skill-wise, you’ve already overtaken her.”
I clenched my fists.
“But,” she continued, “your combat experience is still too shallow. In a real fight, you’d only have about a fifty percent chance of winning against her.”
“Fifty percent...”
Even so… even with just half a chance, it was enough to make my heart swell.
I tilted my head back, gazing up at the sky. Behind my closed eyes, I imagined my mom—alive again—smiling brightly, watching grow.
I opened my eyes and turned toward Karin, asking the question I’d been waiting all week to ask.
“So… is it okay for to train in the Amazon Forest now?”
But instead of the approval I hoped for, she simply shook her head.
“No. Not yet. You’d die if surrounded by several B-Rank monsters.”
“…I see.”
I looked down, lips pressed into a line. I wanted to grow faster. I needed to. If I was ever going to reach Daisy and Freed—to save them—I needed more strength. No shortcuts. No second chances.
But Karin wasn’t done.
“Instead, how about testing yourself against several C-Rank monsters in the nearby forest first?”
A pause. Then I nodded.
Step by step.
I will keep growing.
For their sake.
For Daisy.
For Freed.
I will do anything.
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