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A Certain Magical Reincarnation

In a world of swords and magic, the Nameless Lord brought disaster four centuries ago. His dark legions invaded, and he wielded fearsome power. As the gods fell, they gifted the world a hero, blessed with divine favor and light. The hero repelled the darkness, but the Nameless Lord vanished suddenly. Records claim he was defeated, while legends whisper he retreated, awaiting his return." *** "Trevor, a mundane editor from Earth, died one fateful night. But as his life ended, a new one began. Reincarnated in a magic world as Reo Bellar, he found himself in the midst of a centuries-old conflict. Reo longs for a peaceful life in the suburbs, surrounded by friends and family. Raised by gentle parents in a small village, he discovered unusual abilities in his new body. Now, seeks the secrets to his past and of his rebirth. 'I'll be straight with whoever brought me here,' he thinks, 'I'm not interested in being a hero or vanquishing demons. Just a quiet life, away from all the excitement...' But fate had other plans for our Prince of Woe.

DBM_Novelist_ · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
109 Chs

Chapter 75: Just A Passing Relative

"Hey, hey. Hey!"

All of a sudden Lana ran in front of me.

"You, what was that back there? Didn't your dad ever tell you not to talk with strangers on the streets?" She protested.

I stared at Lana, in thought, before walking passed her.

"My guess is as good as yours."

"Huh? She protested in an exasperated groan behind me which I ignored.

"For a brat you're really —!" She began but stoped as soon as i turned around.

"Call me a brat one more time," I looked her in the eye — "I dare you."

Lana shuddered on the spot. Once I managed to realize this, I withdrew my animosity and gave an exhausted sigh.

"Let's go one more lap before returning back home." With that I turned around and continued to walk. The memory of the old beggar still vivid in my mind. I held the worn-out book in my hand and glanced at it. I wasn't even in the mood to check its content at the moment.

I just wanted to cool off my head before I did something that could cause a scene —the world knew I was about to if that old beggar hadn't let go of my hand when he did.

'I'm on edge,' ultimately I realized.

But I wasn't sure why. I was in a safe town, not an underground cave where every turning held the possible chance of you getting your heart carved out of your chest.

My trauma still hunted me as hard as the first day.

I've only been able to avoid it from all of the new activities that packed my schedule lately.

Lana and I continued to walk in silence for the rest of the trip with nothing said between us. My mind was still cold, I didn't even care to notice. Only the sounds of the late afternoon street buzzed like a hum in the back of my head.

And for a moment, I found myself forgetting about the girl behind me. Until it was too late.

I turned around and Lana was gone.

.

.

.

.

"Mark," Lana growled in the isolated alley. The glare of her grey eyes directed at the figure of a young boy shrouded in the embrace of darkness away from the trickling light of the day.

Marks lips cut into a big smile, displaying roles of fine white teeth, a deep chuckle resounding from his throat. And slowly, the young boy stepped out of the shadows.

A fine young man, with crimson red hair, a pair of piercing orange eyes, a sculptured face with a straight nose and a height of 161 cm. And to his sides were other some of his long time male friends who chuckled and snickered from behind.

Each of their eyes like hyenas gazing at their limping prey before a feast.

Marks smile remained straight, amused, composed, charming, and arrogant.

"Fine evening, wouldn't you say, Lana. Fine. Evening. Indeed." With each word uttered he took a slow step forward, approaching the apprehensive Lana.

Though quick to the uptake, Lana's demean remained as firm, composed and arrogant, without letting a leak of the anxiety that caused trubulence in her mind show.

No moment of weakness.

She held Marks, sly gaze. Those charming orange eyes of his had no enthralling on her. Never had. Never once did.

Mark knew that.

He loved that.

That's what makes her the best, he thought to himself.

That's why he wanted her. He was going to have her. She was his just his.

'Mine.' Mark's eyes spiralled darkly.

Lana felt a shiver, a trickle of cold sweat fell don her back, but she stood firm.

"What do you want?" Flawlessly hiding away her inner turmoil she flawless portrayed her usual peerless arrogance in her utterance.

Young Mark chuckled at the remark and inched closer.

Closer.

And even closer.

Soon he stood a mere few inches away from her and leaned his face forward towards her's .

The red haired smiled sensually, pleasureably.

Possessively.

He raised a hand, the tips of his fingers tracing to caress softly the face of Lana.

"You know very well what I want, Lana." He said in an almost whisper.

The next second, Lana's wrist flashed and she moved to smack Mark's hand further from her face. Her chin held high, eyes permeating deep pride and disdain, she warned.

No. She threatened:

"Don't touch me." Her eyes momentarily flickered with a golden hue, her voice like a low rumble.

Mark stood dumbstruck for a moment when his expression shifted to that a crooked smile, then wider, then wider, and even wider.

Mark's deranged laugh resounded in the echoes of the dark alley way. He wrapped himself, basking in an ambiguous excitement.

"That's it. That's it, my Lana! That pride, that arrogance! The hubris, all of it...." His voice trailed then he stopped, bending backwards partially.

The next second with spread hands, his voice resounding in a thunderous boom:

"I want it! I want you!!"

Silence filled the alley once again. Mark's face rose and merged with the darkness.

"But ..." His orange eye flickered momentarily in the same hue and grew dark and spiralled. His face lost all animation, his expression now long.

In the next moment his hand flashed in a sudden movement for Lana's neck, his fingers snaked around it, strangling tightly.

Lana couldn't blink in that quick second. The next she felt the air leaving her lungs, the light threatening to flee her eyes, her consciousness threatening to disperse.

Instantly the cold prideful mask of arrogance shattered in a whitening pale expression.

Lana struggled. She pushed, she shoved, she punched, she gripped, she scratched, she even attempted to curse. But each of her seemingly futile attempts to scavenge for her life only pleased Mark with sadistic joy and fueled the rapidly growing smile on his face.

"You see, Lana," her peered into her grey eyes slowly turning glassy;

"In the end, you and I aren't so different." Then Mark's body burst into ferocious flames.

His friends behind him screamed from the unexpected heat.

"H-hey, Mark-!!"

Their cries fell on deaf ears as the ferocious flames only intensified.

"It's fine." Mark calmly uttered. He was in control. Soon the flames began to converge around body.

Lana's eyes widened in realization.

'Magic!' she thought inwardly.

But it made sense. Mark was halfway through his 12th year, it was only about time before his first signs of talent would awaken.

'He just had to awaken when I turned him down!' Lana cursed her luck.

"Yes. I see you've realized. I realized my magic talent not much longer after you did. Sure, what if you awakened a little early, in the end we both can use magic." Mark stated, his earlier smile now recomposed into a small ambiguous one. His eyes were steady, reflecting the flames birthed from his anger, embarrassment, bruced pride, vengeance, and possessive love.

His face became still and composed. No trace of amusement or animosity. Just pure neutrality as he spoke.

"We're both on equal ground now." The flames converging around his body slowly slithered over his outstretched hand. The heat began to sizzle at Lana's neck.

"You shouldn't have turned me down, Lana. We would have made a great couple."

Then a voice resounded throughout the alley.

"With her?" It was steady.

All of those present froze in apprehension. Mark narrowed his eyes. The rest of the boys jerked their heads all over the place in search of the source, but the echoe remained indistinct.

"I'm over here." The voice resounded in a low chilling hum and the darkness of the alley seemed to shift and converge around a specific location.

A shrouded figure emerged from the shadows in a corner, revealing a little boy with hair as black as the deepest night and eyes like crystalline pools of dreary darkness, his ivory skin a striking contrast against the darkness surrounding him.

"A kid?" One of the boys spoke, then looked into the little boy's eyes and bit down his tongue.

"You..." Mark frowned.

Reo remained unperturbed.

His expression was still and neutral, seemingly almost nonchalant even. His eyes were cold as he shifted his gaze among the group.

"Y-you! Wh-what ....are y-you doing...her-here..?!" Lana struggled to shift her head and managed to utter.

"Who are you?" Mark bellowed, his shimmering orange eyes glinting with animosity at the unwelcomed visitor.

His question lingered.

Everyone's gazes and attention converged on one position. One person.

Reo took small steps forward, fully emerging his shrouded figure when his lips parted and moved:

"I'm just a passing relative."

"Huh? Relative?" Bemused expressions unraveled among everyone, even Lana wasn't exempted.

Arriving close to the center, Reo stopped...then deeply bowed his head.

"Please let go of my stupid cousin!"