The Path of Ruin

Now, though, after some thought, he had accepted the facts.

But...

It was still annoying!

He took a deep breath, calmed himself down again.

So what if his power was not unlimited? Just a few seconds of it could help him survive most difficult situations.

Besides... he was aware that it was not a simple ability. No, it was more like a feature of his body than an \'ability\'. Like... adrenaline, for example. But unlike adrenaline, it was something he could control himself.

Which also meant that he could master it. It was quite difficult to move that warmth through his body. But if he could get used to it, if he could control it more smoothly... then things would change.

And not only that.

\'After I lost my strength, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn\'t get that warmth back.\'

He raised his hand, looked at his palms.

He closed his eyes, imagining himself growing stronger, just as he had done then. And... his call was answered. He could feel the warmth intensifying in his heart.

But, then, he opened his eyes again, and the warmth in his chest quickly disappeared.

\'Now, I can do it again. So... either I have to wait a while to use it again, or it has a fuel that can run out and refill.\'

He thought the second option was the right one. Because he could invoke this power again now if he wanted to. The reason he couldn\'t when he was testing his power was simply because he ran out of fuel.

\'But what is the fuel?\'

That was another question, a question to which, unfortunately, he had not yet found the answer.

It wasn\'t food, he didn\'t feel hungry.

It was also not water.

For a brief moment, he thought that he was sacrificing the hunger of his curse, but it wasn\'t that either, the time he was given was still the same.

So... he had no idea what that was.

He wasn\'t unhappy, though. He was definitely pleased, even if he was still frustrated. Why should he be unhappy when he had a new power at his disposal?

He lowered his hands, turned his eyes to the sky. He could only see part of it through the leaves, but... it was gray, as usual. Depressing, but... a gray he actually liked.

He waited for a while. He watched the sky, the delicate swaying of the leaves. It was peaceful. In spite of all his problems, it was a relief to be in such a quiet, peaceful place. So much so that he slowly detached even from reality, the voice of someone he knew quite well echoed in his mind.

"If you\'re bored, if you\'ve been through something bad... look at the sky. Isn\'t it beautiful?"

His lips curled upwards. His mother may have been a sky freak, yes... She was indeed a bit obsessed with it.

But, somehow, he couldn\'t help agreeing with her.

The sky was really beautiful.

Even when it wasn\'t night, when it couldn\'t yet show its stars, it was comforting.

But... no matter how much he wished he could just stay here, not care anymore... he didn\'t have time for that.

His lips, which had curled upwards, flattened, his eyes narrowed.

Yes, he knew he didn\'t have time...

But he still kept thinking.

\'Can I... go on like this?\'

He had thrown away his thoughts about suicide, yes. He really had a purpose in life now, he didn\'t want to die like he used to anymore.

But... could he fulfill his purpose if he continued like this?

Could he really survive against all odds?

He didn\'t know.

The world was a cruel place. It was full of dangers he could not comprehend. Having spent his whole life as a slave, there was so much he didn\'t know... he was no more than a child of three or four years old considering his knowledge.

He thought about everything he had ever experienced. The tragedy at the palace, the wolves, that abomination of a creature...

And, then, how little he actually knew about the world.

Suddenly, everything he had ever experienced seemed small, lost its importance.

Perhaps he really could have survived going on like this. He could satisfy his curse for many years, he could live his life.

If he wanted to, if he really tried, maybe he could even lead a normal life.

But... what about his goal?

So far, he had thought that as long as he could survive, he could make it work. He hadn\'t thought much about the future, his first priority was not to lose the second chance the king had given him.

But... his goal was not so simple. He wanted to kill the brother of the king of Arcanoa, Musthar V. Arcanoa, and... he was no longer simply \'the king\'s brother\'.

He had sold his country in a deal with the Empire. So... he was now under their protection, their patronage.

Would it be as easy to reach him as before?

No... he didn\'t think so. He was important to the Empire now. So... dealing with him would probably mean dealing with the Empire.

And the Empire... was something to be feared.

And not only that. Luck had played a big part in his survival so far. But he would not always continue to be lucky.

He paused, remembering their conversation when he had first entered the king\'s chamber.

Luck is also a talent, the king had said. Sometimes even the greatest of talents, even...

He was not wrong. So much could be achieved in life simply by being lucky.

But just as much could be lost.

Kael was well aware that luck would not always be on his side. Sooner or later, he would trip over an obstacle.

His expression became even more serious, his fist clenched.

He couldn\'t rely on luck.

No, directly... he couldn\'t rely on the way he was now, the way he was thinking.

He had to not only continue to survive, but to become stronger now.

When he faced an obstacle, he had to think not about whether he could survive, but how he could overcome it with ease.

He had to get to the point where he could solve his problems with his own strength, rather than relying on luck or whatsoever.

And... it all led to one thing.

\'I... I can\'t continue like this.\'

He stretched, jumped down from the tree. His wounds were not yet completely healed, yes... but he didn\'t care. His brown eyes shifted to the point of the forest from which he had run away.

This small moment of thinking, remembering again how little he knew about the world...

Now... he was beginning to understand some things better.

He wasn\'t trying hard enough.

It wasn\'t enough to put his life before everything else. On the contrary, it was something that held him back.

If all he thought about every obstacle he faced was survival, if he didn\'t push himself... he would either stay where he was or his progress would be too slow.

And he didn\'t want that.

So...

\'I have made up my mind.\'

As he walked back to where he had fled, his dagger in his hand, his right fist clenched. His nails were digging into his palm, hurting him... but he didn\'t care.

He had to take risks. He had a strong will to live, but he had to put himself in danger rather than hide behind it, cowardly clinging to it, and trying to protect his second chance. He had to constantly test his will to live, to use it as a tool to grow stronger. Even the new strength he had discovered at the very beginning had come in a fight that had pushed him to his limits.

So... he had to keep doing it.

He had to keep putting himself in danger without stopping, without giving up.

Constantly and constantly pushing himself to his limits so that he would learn to overcome them.

No hiding, no running away.

He would fight.

And, so... he walked.

Just as he had done so far, he kept moving forward.

But, this time, he had a new motivation. He now saw the world, himself, and his future differently.

Instead of being a coward who would do anything to survive, he would now be someone who would put his own life on the line to become stronger.

So, the first thing he decided to do was to change his goal, or at least add to it.

Not only was he going to kill Musthar V. Arcanoa, no...

He would kill him in front of everyone.

He would become so powerful that no one would be able to stop him, he would see the fear in his eyes. Not even the Empire would be able to protect him, even the Emperor himself would fear him.

That was his new goal.

He turned his eyes back to the sky, remembering how he was a few years ago.

Under the pretext of clinging to life, he had set himself an impossible goal that he dreamed of dying trying to achieve.

He had deceived himself for years.

Now... he had set himself an impossible goal once again, one far beyond his limits, to become stronger than he could ever imagine.

But he wasn\'t fooling himself this time.

This time, he was really holding on to it.

And he would do whatever it took to make it happen.