1 001 | The Finale

My name is Castor.

I was a kid with short white hair. My life? I'll tell you. It was sinful to no extent. You would need the resolve to kill to survive...and I mean that literally. I'm not gifted with a silver spoon in my mouth. No parents to shelter me, no roof to stay under, and you know I barely got by with eating trash off the streets. Perhaps you may have wondered; why couldn't I just beg for some food?

Funny.

What commoner much less noble in this shattered and corrupted empire could care about a starving child?

The answer to that question is something you can guess. That's right. No one. From what I recall, I did live in a run-down orphanage. It wasn't the best but it was warm, well, somewhat warm. The people there provided some disgusting broth and stale bread as food for us kids though very rarely will we be given some vegetable leftovers. Meat? None of that ever managed to touch our lips. Though, by the time I was twelve, a new manager took over the orphanage.

It made our everyday more blissful! Tears of joy would flow down my very eyes! Every single night I slept soundly with my friends and there would be a balanced meal with good food! We had lots of time to play and even more by pursuing academics taught by the tutors they hire!

And if you couldn't tell, everything I said was undeniably bullsh*t. There were no such things happening after the manager was replaced. In fact, it got even worse. The staff was all switched out and they were cruel. Don't get me wrong, the previous caretakers were also mean and nasty but these ones were worse.

I ran away but unfortunately, I got caught immediately. I rebelled against the manager, but honestly, what could a scrawny twelve-year-old accomplish against a grown man? There is an obvious flaw somewhere. The manager didn't let me off with a light punishment. He was a nasty bast*rd, his face was just gleaming with greed. He sent me off to some shady place in a dark alley. He accompanied me as I got a slave mark branded onto my back, he tossed me aside and shipped me off to do labor work at some silver mine.

What could I have done? All the other slaves were equally mistreated as I was, whipped, beaten, and tossed aside. There was a pile of dead bodies that I accidentally discovered somewhere, as a child, I threw up at the very sight of it. Escape was nigh impossible, trained swordsmen and wizards were employed as guards to oversee the order of this place. About a year passed and luckily for me, there was a massive riot between the slaves and the guards. Using the flimsy pickaxes given to us, we forced our way out, a trail of blood shadowed us. I was hit by some sort of wind magic and it immediately gave me cuts all around my body and blasted me against a wall.

Upon waking up, I opened my eyes to a bloody mess of bodies everywhere. Some of which belong to slaves and fewer of them belong to the guards. Hundreds of them, littered across the mines. I got a revelation at that moment. It is the strongest who will live, there is no place for the weak, evidence of that is the scene that befell my very eyes. I remember I barely stood up and walked to the nearest corpse of a wizard, dressed in fancy blue robes but was now covered in blood. I scrummaged through their pockets and found a small dark red vial.

I heard from one of my orphanage friends that wizards often carry magical items. On pure instinct, I believed that a competent user of magic would at least have some sort of healing method. I took the cap off and drank it.

Well, it healed me alright, but also gave me shocking pain all over my body, as if I was being electrocuted from the inside. It was only later that I realized those who consume mana, without awakening their ability to use magic, will suffer through unimaginable pain.

That is exactly what I went through. I crawled like a worm trying to flee from a bird, my fingernails scratched and tore apart some of my skin, and as I rolled around the bloody field for hours, the pain slowly stopped. I stood up, each and every part of my body shaking, but I felt an unfamiliar yet nostalgic feeling inside of me. That simple feeling gave me the utmost sense of euphoria. That was me awakening my ability to use magic. I grinned as I looted the pockets of every single corpse, I didn't get very far because I soon heard the sounds of others approaching.

A few years went by and I managed to get on a ship that went directly to the center of the capital. At this point, I had taught myself how to use my mana and conjure spells. From fighting wild beasts, the occasional bandit, and watching others fight, I improved every day. Making a living was still hard, I was on the run now as well. They managed to figure out that there was a runaway slave missing and my pursuers were always right behind my tail. It turns out I carry a special type of blood that can be used to make extremely high-quality magical goods. As you would expect, I'm not offering myself up, though I'm technically their property as a slave.

I killed squadrons of wizards or swordsmen that went after me. In the darkest of corners, a fight between myself and them would brew. Not to brag but I was quite the genius in terms of fighting. Night after night, there would be a senseless slaughter. By day, I stole food from markets and was always running. Instead of issuing an order to capture a slave, the empire turned it into a dead or alive request with a large bounty on my head. I've been living this type of life for a few years before he found me.

Standing on top of many dead bodies and drenched with blood, I glared at the especially noble character who stared at the scene. Without a slight hesitation in his voice, he offered me everything I craved and he would get rid of the kill order. I was doubtful at first, I wanted to see if he was lying in order to get away with his life intact. I rushed forward and gripped his neck, lifting him up while choking him slightly to show him that I could kill him at any second. His two guards rushed at me with their swords drawn but I used the noble as a shield against one of them and they didn't dare swing their sword. As for the other, I simply penetrated their heart and body with my arm. The other guard used a spell to set his sword on fire but he was too late. My foot had already reached his neck and his head rolled off like a bowling ball. The noble was scared but he still talked to me about the offer. He told me he was the crown prince of the empire and he knew that I was a talent he wanted on his side.

I shouldn't have accepted. Accepting his decision was the beginning to the end of everything.

The prince kept his promise easily, I was given the finest room my commoner's eyes have ever seen, treated to extraordinary meals that beat anything I had ever had, and given all sorts of treatments that only the highest-ranking nobles could afford. In return, the prince told me to master all sorts of weapons and gave me magic books and scrolls of all kinds.

It didn't take long at all. A single week was enough to master a weapon, and a few days was sufficient to master a spell. After all that, I was forced to study. First, it was the alphabet, then it was the language we spoke, and then it quickly turned to war and battle. The strategies that generals used, the tactical formations in war, and everything there was to know about it.

It was obvious that the prince was raising me to become his sword and shield. An indestructible one at that. The first thing he did once I finished all my lessons were to bind me to a contract with magic. No matter what, I could not harm the prince. The contract was vague, but it was perfect in the prince's eyes.

His first order to me was to assassinate the king so he could succeed the throne. I complied. It wasn't much of an assassination. I barged into the throne room, killing anyone that I saw. Even the strongest royal guards and wizards didn't amount to much. The king trembled when our eyes met. Unfortunately for him, his death couldn't be stopped. With the decorative sword that hung in the empire, I plunged it into his heart.

The prince gave more orders once he was king. Non-stop he waged war on other nations and countries, absorbing them into the empire by force if they didn't surrender and plead allegiance. It was a conquest of the entire world. My life hadn't really changed, fighting was all I knew and that was it. Out of complete boredom, I decided to have a few disciples. Those who suffered from a similar fate as mine, I personally recruited them and trained them. We spent decades together in war, although a savage area, we enjoyed the peace it sometimes brought with it. It was to the point that I considered them the closest of friends. All twelve of them were talented in their own unique areas. They all had a good sense of morals and would execute justice if need be.

It's a shame that I couldn't be with them for a bit longer.

Sometime in the fall, I was walking along the sides of a steep canyon. My disciples had informed me they had found the headquarters of a rebel group hiding in the southern territories of the empire. I looked over the side and I couldn't see the end of the fall, white fog clouded the bottom of the canyon. I felt my disciples behind me. When I turned around, I faced what were my friends. My disciples were all suited up and wielding their respective weapons. Each and every one of them looked at me with hostile intent. I let out a sigh as I fixed up my cape that got caught with my armor.

"I see you've made a decision."