I am Me and That's Enough

Caspian reached his car.

"Young master, is everything okay?" the driver asked cautiously.

"It's okay," Caspian replied.

"They said they had something to talk about," the driver added, glancing at the building behind him.

"It's okay," Caspian repeated.

He climbed into the car, letting out a heavy sigh.

'If it isn't, what could my family even do for me?' Caspian thought bitterly as the door clicked shut.

{Hey, child. Why did you say, 'kill your father' back there?}

Caspian leaned back against the seat.

'Oh, that?' Caspian thought.

'That's the only thing I don't like about her. She acts like some righteous justice queen, but her own father is a serial killer, and she hasn't done anything about it. I don't know where all her 'fucking justice' goes when it comes to him.'

{But how do you know this, child?} Bloodmoon asked.

Caspian's gaze hardened as he stared out of the window.

'I know because I've read about it. This world... it's a novel I was reading before I woke up here. Every character, every twist, every secret—they're all things I've read before. And now, for some reason, I'm living it.'

For a moment Bloodmoon was silent.{it means you're in a novel world and you know future.}

"Exactly," Caspian muttered.

...

Twenty days had passed since Caspian awakened his Blessing.

Under Bloodmoon's strict guidance, his routine was grueling but structured.

Every morning, Caspian woke at 5 a.m., his body screaming in protest as he began his running and exercises.

At first, it felt like he was dragging a mountain behind him, but gradually, his body adapted.

By 9 a.m., his exhaustion had dulled into something manageable.

From 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., he immersed himself in the vast library of the estate, learning everything he could about this new world, its history, mana theories, and combat strategies.

He didn't have the luxury to waste time.

By 4 p.m., he was back outside, practicing sword techniques and mana circulation under Bloodmoon's watchful gaze.

Every strike and every failed attempt to control mana was met with sarcastic comments from the soul-bound weapon.

No one in his family bothered to speak to him, and Caspian made no effort to reach out either.

His only visitor was his older sister, who occasionally came by to silently observe his training.

She never said much, but her presence was enough to remind him that he wasn't entirely alone.

-----

"Ha! White-haired bastard!" Jaxar's voice echoed from across the courtyard.

Caspian glanced over his shoulder to see his older brother smirking, flanked by a few servants preparing their luggage.

"Bye, we're all going to the royal family ceremony," Jaxar added with a sneer.

"Then go. Why are you telling me?" Caspian replied coldly, his eyes already returning to the training dummy before him.

Jaxar scoffed but didn't press further.

Caspian knew what the fuss was about.

Tomorrow was the Princess's birthday, and the royal family had invited the nobles to attend the grand ceremony.

Of course, his family was invited, but his mother had made no effort to include him.

"Well, fuck them," Caspian muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his sword.

"Not like I care."

They would all be gone for ten days, leaving him alone in the mansion—a thought that brought him both relief and frustration.

"Caspian," a soft voice called from behind him.

He turned to see Eleana, his mother, standing there.

She was dressed in an elegant gown that accentuated her regal demeanor, her blue hair.

Her piercing blue eyes held an unreadable expression as she approached him.

"We're leaving now," she said simply.

"Then go," Caspian replied, his voice as cold as the steel.

"Why are you telling me?"

"I was just telling you that when I return, I would go with you to the church," Eleana said softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Caspian didn't stop swinging his sword.

The sound of steel cutting through the air was his only reply for a moment.

Then, without turning to face her, he spoke.

"I don't care if you go with me or not. Just go," he said coldly. "And don't pity me."

Eleana flinched at the harshness in his tone, but Caspian wasn't done.

"Don't show your love, Mother. Save it for your blue-hair," he added, his frustration seeping into every word.

His swings grew harder, the strikes landing with a ferocity that matched the storm in his chest.

Eleana's lips parted, but she couldn't find the words.

How could she explain this to him? How could she bridge the gap between them when it had grown so wide?

Caspian's thoughts, however, were a whirlwind of anger and pain.

'Are they fools? Do they really think a child can be treated this way just because of his appearance? What justice is this? What love is this?'

His grip on the sword tightened as the weight of Real Caspian life pressed down on him.

Eleana took a hesitant step forward.

"Caspian…" she began, but her voice faltered.

"Don't," he interrupted sharply. "If you can't say anything worth hearing, don't say anything at all."

Eleana stood there, silent and motionless, before finally turning away.

Caspian didn't watch her go.

He didn't need to.

He already knew she wouldn't have the courage to stay.

Love, pity, duty—what did it even matter now?

All he knew was that he couldn't afford to rely on anyone else.

Not anymore.

If they wouldn't protect him, he would protect himself.

If they wouldn't respect him, he would carve a path where they had no choice but to respect him.

As Eleana's figure disappeared from view, Caspian's swings slowed, the sharp crack of his strikes echoing in the stillness of the courtyard.

"I don't need them," he muttered to himself, his voice firm. "I'll never need them."

I don't need anyone.

I am god of myself.

I am who is everything for me.

I am me and that's enough....