Holy sh*t
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"Is he awake?" The king's voice was laced with anxiety as it echoed through the dimly lit hallway. The setting sun cast long shadows across the walls, its remaining light streaming through the hall, giving the place an almost ominous glow. The tension was palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog.
"I think... I think so," one of the servants stammered, though her voice wavered with uncertainty.
"My son can never die," the king muttered to himself, as if saying it out loud would make it true. His eyes, usually hard and stern, were now wide with a mixture of fear and hope. "Bring that Monica girl to me!" he barked suddenly, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze shifted to the nearest guard, who snapped to attention and scurried away to carry out the order.
The king's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one darker than the last. If his son was not awake by noon, if something had happened to him during this foolish training, he would personally ensure that Monica paid the price. The thought of his son, his pride and joy, lying cold and lifeless made his blood run cold.
"I'll kill her myself," he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with venom.
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Meanwhile, in the depths of unconsciousness, Eckert was adrift in a strange dream world. It was an endless void, a space without time or direction. He floated aimlessly, unaware of the outside world, his body heavy and unresponsive. But then, faintly at first, he began to hear voices—distant, almost as if they were underwater.
"No... no, sir!" a female voice pleaded, frantic and filled with terror. "Wait a bit! I'm not the one who killed him!"
"Who is dea...?" Eckert's thoughts struggled to form coherent sentences. "Hope I'm not..." The words echoed in his mind, bouncing around as if searching for an answer. "I'm not... I'm not... never..."
The voices grew louder, clearer, until finally, a surge of awareness jolted through him like lightning.
"Arizona, I'm gonna kill you!" Eckert declared loudly, the words bursting from him as he shot up from his deep slumber. His voice reverberated in the room, strong and filled with the fire of his newly awakened strength.
"Huh... my son is awake!" a woman's voice exclaimed. She was a beauty, even in her forties, her elegant features softened by the relief that now washed over her. This was Eckert's mother, the queen. She rushed to his side, her heart pounding with a mixture of joy and lingering fear. Her son was alive. He had survived whatever trials he had put himself through.
"Mom, why are you here?" Eckert asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. He blinked at her, trying to shake off the remnants of his dreams.
"Why would I be dead?" he added, more to himself than to her. His hand instinctively reached up to rub his temple, as if that would help him remember the events that had led him to this moment.
"You don't know what happened?" his mother asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern.
"Oh, oh, oh," Eckert muttered, the memories suddenly flooding back. The training, the pain, the endless battle with Angel's clone—it all came rushing back to him in vivid detail. "I suddenly remembered now," he said, his tone more animated.
He stood up abruptly, his body protesting slightly from the strain of the past days. "Go out, I need to check on my body and bathe," he ordered, gently but firmly pushing his mother toward the door.
"Eckert, you should—"
"Go out!" he repeated, cutting her off before she could protest further. His hands were already on her shoulders, guiding her toward the exit. "I'll be fine. Just give me a moment."
After managing to usher her out, he called after her, "Don't forget to call Monica in!" He could hear his mother's muffled response on the other side of the door, but he didn't wait to hear her reply. With a decisive motion, he shut the door behind him.
Once he was alone, Eckert made his way to his massive bed, its covers still rumpled from where he had been lying. He sat down on the edge, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. His body felt different—heavier, stronger. There was a newfound energy coursing through his veins, a power that he could barely comprehend.
Without hesitation, he crossed his legs and assumed a meditative posture. The movement felt natural, as if his body had been doing this for years. He closed his eyes and focused inward, concentrating on the flow of energy within him. Then, with a whisper, he commanded, "SHOW AURA."
Immediately, a bright red screen flashed before his eyes, filling his vision with rows of text and numbers. It was the system—a part of him now, something he could tap into at will. It displayed everything about him, from his name to his age, his stage of development, and, most importantly, his stats.
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Name: Eckert Van Bilbord
Age: 15
Stage: Aura Gathering (Beginner)
STR: 110
AGI: 115
ARA:1100/1100
STA: 100/100
"Holy sh*t"
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Author here:
Behind the scene
Arizona: who the f*ck give him permission to use my book
Eckert: you nearly kill me
Arizona: me!
Eckert: yeah
Arizona: Did I f*cking tell you to use my research
Eckert: why leave it in the cave
Arizona: Author don't stop! me I'm gonna kill your mc.
Author: pls stop the
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Such messy character s
Arizona & eckert: who!!!
No...no...no