ONE YEAR LATER

  VALENS’ POV

  Spending time serving drunken men and women at the bar wasn’t ideal, but it was the best way I could earn a quick bit of money without having to do anything too dangerous. Most of them were adventurers, spending time in town or drinking their sorrows away due their inability to climb the ranks. Most remained stuck at C-Tier, unable to rise to the rank of B. And on this particular day, it appeared that Morris, our most regular customer, wasn’t exactly happy with that.

  It was a small bar on the outskirts of Huagong, close to the border with Sumeria, so many flocked here before leaving to go there. Morris slammed his cup down onto the table, wiping his mouth sloppily before turning to a man sitting beside him.

  “If they can’t see the worth in me, then that ain’t my problem. Pah! All you adventurers actin’ like C-Tier is a bad thing… I’ll make sure to show ya that the B-Tiers ain’t shit compared to me.” He took another hefty swig of his beer, eyes turning towards the noticeboard.

  His friend nudged him, before asking a question. “Have you heard about the new rising star?” He asked, curiously. Internally, I rolled my eyes– that was like asking for Morris to get mad, yet I was interested in how this would play out.

  “What rising star?”

  “Anonymous.”

  “Oh, that guy. He’s nothing more than a pretty boy.”

  Whispers and murmurs spread throughout the bar, everyone muttering things like ‘I heard he doesn’t use magic!’ and ‘I heard he cleared an A-Tier dungeon by himself…’, all of which didn’t help Morris’ anger. Morris was a man who was rather full of himself with a large, inflated ego– and to hear that the ‘pretty boy’ was leagues ahead of him likely wasn’t doing much to help his fragile, yet large ego.

  “SHUT UP!” He roared. “ANONYMOUS IS LITTLE MORE THAN A NO GOOD, GROVELLIN’ POSER BRA–”

  Thump.

  The door slid open, as all chatter (including Morris, oddly enough) was cut short immediately and silenced by the entrance of a young man, everyone watching him.

  Step. Step. Step.

  His boots thumped on the wooden floor, the aura he exuded alone enough to have the entire room’s gazes in a chokehold, forcing us all to look at him and nothing but him. At his heels walked a small horned wolf cub, easily keeping pace with his movements. Even that beast was menacing, small in stature as it was.

  From the mask alone, I could tell who it was.

  Anonymous.

  Black and white locks framed his face in a fringe, hair hanging down his back in a low ponytail which reached just below his shoulders in length. Through the eye-holes of the mask, I could see one blue eye, the other a shade of amber as he approached me.

  However, before he could reach me, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Morris leaned forward, close to him. Too close.

  “Don’t touch me, please, sir.” Anonymous said, brushing Morris’ hand off. Morris’ eye twitched in response, and his voice slowly but surely became more threatening and aggressive towards the other.

  “Ah, it’s the man of the hour. We were all just talkin’ about you. Y’know, cause you’re really not all that.” Morris raised his hands again, this time placing them firmly on Anonymous’ shoulders with a decent amount of strength from what I could see, trying to force him to kneel. “How about I put you in your pla–”

  He was cut off mid-sentence as his arms were severed at the wrists, hands dropping to the floor, blood pooling alongside as it gushed from his cleanly severed arms. His eyes slowly widened in shock, blood having splattered up the corner of Anonymous’ mask. Anonymous’ blade was held loosely in one hand before he shook it, the blood splattering up the floor.

  Morris let out a yell of pain, sinking down to his knees from pure shock, tears and blood dripping down his face as he tried to make sense of what had happened, considering his arms had been removed in less than the time it took to blink. Anonymous glared down at him, without a hint of emotion nor remorse held in that icy gaze.

  The friend he had been with let out a yell.

  “Someone get him a healer, quickly! We can still reattach his arms if we hurry!”

  Anonymous turned back to face me, and his cold gaze caused shivers to run down my spine. No guilt was contained within those eyes for his actions a moment earlier… Was he even human? As he began to walk towards me, I felt the urge to run away– but instead, I froze, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

  Wordlessly, he dropped a bag of coins that rattled as he placed them onto the counter, pushing them towards me.

  “I need some cloaks… and some camels, please.”

  He was surprisingly polite, but that didn’t ease the fear he had induced in my very soul. After handing him the coats along with the reins for the camels, he turned on his heel, walking past the still-crying Morris (though his hands had been reattached by this point), not even sparing him a glance. And it became clear– to him, Morris was little more than an ant beneath his feet. Nothing more, and nothing less.

  The door shut behind him– and I was finally able to breathe in what felt like a century.

  —

  ATLAS’ POV

  After exiting the bar, I wiped the blood that had splattered up onto my mask with a finger. It smeared, but it was mostly gone. An entire year had passed, and I was now 16– considering my 15th birthday had been shortly after I had started adventuring properly. Leading the camels out the back, I trudged over to the Lizards, ensuring that the animal didn’t spit on me as I did so.

  Nessa had asked me to get the camels due to the fact we would be entering the desert soon enough, and horses would die off far too quickly– before we’d even reached the capital. Sumeria was an arid region, surrounded by a vast desert except for the capital, which had been built around an oasis and lush greenery.

  As such, the cloaks were to protect our skin from the dust and sand that the region was known for best. Many died on the way to the capital of Uruk, however, we weren’t like that. And this would also be the Lizards’ first time returning home in a while… I wanted to ensure they could enjoy it. Not only that, but the Championship Tournament was being held in Sumeria, and it was a chance to get stronger that I couldn't pass up. Over the past year, I hadn't used any magic other than soul reinforcement and pure bladework to rise from B-Tier to AA-Tier, in order to hone my physical body and my swordsmanship to the level it needed to be. Now, I could say I had reached a level good enough that I wasn't bringing shame upon my previous life.

  Nessa looked me up and down, her eyes narrowing. “Did everything go alright in there? No problems, I hope?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  I thought back to the burly drunk man that had attempted to fight me. “Yes, everything was fine. No problems at all, Nessa.” I lied through my teeth. They had probably reattached his hands by now, but quite frankly it was none of my concern. I gave him what he deserved, in my eyes. And there was no time to pity the weak.

  Isabella leapt from the ground, up onto my outstretched arm, finally reaching my shoulder where she perched. Over the past year, she disappeared quite often, the length of time increasing every time as she returned to me quite rarely. I had asked her where she was going and why she was gone for so long, but she refused to elaborate, so I asked no more.

  After we had saddled up onto the camels properly (with significant effort from Makko's part as he continued to fall off sideways), I gave the reins a quick flick, beginning our journey.

  The roads soon dissolved into nothingness as we grew closer to the border, the sight of greenery becoming more scarce as the land became only more barren. Dry earth cracked underneath the camel’s feet, and the sun beat down on my body like an opponent more ruthless than anything I had ever faced, sweat already dripping down my face. The others seemed to be fine, but it appeared like Isabella was also struggling– which made enough sense considering her whole body was covered in a thick layer of fur.

  At the very least, I had switched out my clothes for something thinner and far more breathable knowing that this was coming, but the heat itself was unbearable. Perhaps a little magic would do the trick…

  Using ice magic to cool down my body and the surrounding air (and the air around Isabella too after a bit of nagging), I felt significantly better. My magic and my capacity for it hadn’t improved much in the last year, and so my core’s level hadn’t advanced, but that was perfectly fine.

  After about an hour of travelling like this, I looked over to the other 4, calling out to Makko who was holding the map at the front of the group. “You sure we’re going the right way? We’ve been going for an hour and I still haven’t seen the big rock you’re talking about…”

  Sliding off of the camel, I trudged towards him as he handed the map down towards me. I squinted, the dust and sand whipping at my face as the speed of the wind increased, causing my skin to sting.

  Looking at the map, I exhaled silently and pinched the bridge of my nose, leaning my head back and looking towards the sky as I attempted to calm myself down. “Makko, you… you’ve been reading the map wrong this whole time.” Hearing Nessa and Anthony groan, I shook my head. “I’m never letting you put your hands on a map again…”

  —

  After the map had (thankfully) been given to Mari, who took the lead, we were back on the right track once more. Spending the time singing songs and making fun of Makko's blunder, the sun had begun to set before I realised, and the temperature began to drop from incredibly hot to incredibly cold within a few hours, forcing me to change back into the clothes I had been wearing in Huagong. The journey from Huagong to Uruk was more than a day’s length, and as such, we needed someplace to camp out for the night.

  Chancing upon some ruins, it was promptly decided that we’d stay there, considering it provided some shelter against the weather and the cold. And it was getting cold, and fast… which I had to admit, I disliked. Though I could likely keep my body warm with fire magic, it certainly wasn’t ideal and would begin to use up my soul and fast.

  Sliding off of the camel, I landed on solid ground– likely sandstone if I had to guess, leading on a short path to what seemed like a crumbled village. A half-broken sign said “KHORANGH”. So that was the name of the place. Walls stood firm with no roofs, cracks spreading across their structure like spider webbing, a clear sign that they had been standing far too long. Isabella’s head continued to turn, drinking in her surroundings, and my companions did much of the same.

  It was a ghost town, to put it in simple terms. It showed all the signs that life used to exist there, that life could exist there– but it didn’t. As we continued to walk through, I noticed that it wasn’t a mere few homes. No, it was an entire town that had gone to ruin. Moonlight filtered in through the clouds that drifted across the sky, stars twinkling overhead, aiding in the illumination of our path. A violent breeze whipped through the area, causing a high-pitched whistle to pierce my eardrums as the wind blew through the deserted town.

  ‘Atlas.. Come look over here.’

  My head turned at Isabella’s voice resounding within my mind, calling me over to a more secluded part of the desolate place as I broke away from the Lizards slightly.

  “What did you want me to se…”

  My voice slowly trailed off as I approached what she wanted me to look at, fading into the silence and the whistling, shrieking wind. It was a crib. A small, wooden child’s crib, still containing a blanket as though the child had been snatched from the cot not too long ago. And a small, shoddily-made stuffed rabbit with black button eyes sat propped up against one of the wooden bars that would have been used to keep the baby from ending up on the floor. The stitching was all wrong and it was really quite dirty (being a shade of dark grey rather than the white I presumed it was originally)– but it had been made with love. That much I could tell.

  Picking it up gingerly, I held it in my hand, ensuring I didn’t break it as I ran my finger over the cloth.

  Had I... ever gotten one like this? It was likely. I didn't remember much of my mother, aside from the lullabies she used to sing in order to get me to sleep, and that she was a sweet woman, kind-hearted and the type of person that nobody could bring themselves to hate. And her smile, toothy and gentle. The type of smile that could light up a room, no matter how dark things had gotten, like the sun-- giving life to all those around her. I had... lost her far too soon.

  Now that I thought about it… there were far more signs of a struggle here than I had first noticed. Yet the struggle was clearly very quick, as things had been left the same way they were when there were still people living here. And whoever had taken the people had destroyed the place before they left in order to cover their tracks.

  Before I realised, I had been staring at it for some time.

  ‘...You alright? You've been looking at that bunny for a while.’

  ‘I’m fine. I just… I don’t know.’

  ‘You’re feeling pity, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course not. Something like this would never phase me–’

  ‘I’m your bond. I can feel your emotions. And right now, you’re feeling pity. And some anger, too. You’ve grown. You care, Atlas.’

  I remained silent, stopping to think about her words. The me of before wouldn’t have cared. Xeno wouldn’t have cared. These people had no relation to me, none at all. I would have carried on my day without a second thought, for their misfortune had nothing to do with me. And yet due to this world, due to those around me, I found myself slowly softening, the icy wall I had built around my heart to protect myself steadily thawing out as the love of my friends and family was given to me unconditionally.

  This was none of my business, and it didn’t concern me. But I wasn’t Xeno anymore. I was Atlas Reyes, son of Elizabeth and Caspian Reyes.

  If I let this stand… could I really say I was fulfilling Atlas’ will?

  If I let this stand… how would he look at me, the one who had promised to live his life to the fullest, the way he would have wanted?

  If I let this stand... what would my mother think of me?

  My own goals came first. But this mattered as well. Staring down at the stuffed bunny in my hand, I steeled myself once again to the weight of my choices, to the burden of my decision to help others without any gain. If the child was alive, I would return it to them, I swore to myself.

  I was no hero. I merely had a conscience, and a promise I intended on keeping.

  The feeling of tremors through the earth grabbed mine and Isabella’s attention immediately, my head darting off to one side. The hell was going on? Picking up the pace immediately, Isabella and I sprinted through the abandoned streets in order to catch up to the Lizards– and what I saw wasn’t what I expected to see.

  A horde of beasts like no other. They were humanoid, but there seemed to be something off about them. Something utterly malformed (aside from their incredibly grotesque appearances) that I couldn’t place my finger on. Yet at the exact same time… there was something familiar about them that I couldn’t fathom.

  But that no longer mattered. I reminded myself that ultimately, they were nothing more than mindless, rabid beasts.

  And we got to work.