Don: “Thanks. I’m leaving… Oh, wait—look at this and tell me: What do you think happened?” I showed him the damaged core.
Merchant: “Whoa! That’s wild! Never seen damage this bad on the world’s toughest metal.”
Don: “Could a monster have done it?”
Merchant: “No way. We’re too far from the border dangers. Even if one slipped through, Zephyria’s top-ranked knights handle that stuff. We’re miles from conflict. Why do you think I’m in Duncaster? Soon as I get my trader’s permit, I’m moving to Astoria—they say it’s a merchant’s paradise. I’ll get filthy rich, just like God intended!” He grinned, then turned dead serious. “You’ll pay for this info, kid.”
Don: “Pay? I just asked your opinion!”
Merchant: “Do I look like I care? Knowledge ain’t free.”
Don: “I urgently need a new merchant…” I muttered. “But if you won’t help, my master’ll come collect it himself. Just saying.” I lied blatantly.
Merchant (panicking): “On second thought, I don’t want trouble with your old man. Take it and scram.”
Don: “Leaving now.”
Merchant: “Say hi to the Owl for me. Haven’t seen the legend in ages.”
I grabbed my supplies and left, lost in thoughts about my master’s reputation. They say he’s insanely strong. I remember nothing of his past, but I know he’s leagues above me. The seal on my back—the one he says suppresses my elemental powers—means I can’t use magic.
Flashback:
Max (snarling): “Attack!”
I lunged, dodging his kicks, but he outclassed me completely. He sidestepped my final strike, kneeing my chin. I blocked, but he twisted my momentum, dislocating my shoulder. I crumpled, screaming.
Max: “Pathetic. For a Supaibi, this is unacceptable.” He glared down, voice icy. “You’re too weak. Harden your body and mind, or you’ll die. I swear on my eyes: I’ll make you the fiercest thing alive.”
That seal is one of the worst curses. Only a Rank 7 mage could cast it. No matter how hard I train, my magic stays locked. Worse, as a Supaibi, my purpose is magic. Our race bonds deeply with ether—but my ether point is gone. Instead, I radiate something… dark.
Max: “I’ll force it out of you. Life brought you to me for a reason. Even sealed, you heal—something’s protecting you.” He raised his left hand. “Jhanmm!”
A spell crushed me between two invisible forces, compressing my bones.
After that day, I trained nonstop. Max taught me potions, tools, human behavior—everything except magic. My grandmother worried constantly.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Another night:
Grandmother: “Don, do you know who cast that seal? It’s… powerful.”
Don: “No clue. I’ve got 44 years of memories, but none before Master rescued me from kidnappers.”
Max (storming in): “Stop filling his head with ‘family’ nonsense. The past is gone. Move forward.”
Don: “It doesn’t matter. I’m safe here, thanks to you both.”
Max: “Sentimental garbage.” He stormed out.
Don: “Why’s he always so angry?”
Grandmother: “His kind are sworn to protect ether’s flow. But something broke his people…”
Max (interrupting): “Enough. Focus on training, boy.”
Grandmother: “Let him breathe, Max! He’s not immortal!”
Max: “He’s lucky you coddle him. But mark my words: I’ll beat that kindness out of you. You’ll need cruelty to survive.”
His glare terrified me.
Don: “Why make me suffer so much?”
Max turned away, almost… laughing?
Max: “Suffering’s life’s best teacher. Consider this a gift—I’m sparing you 20 years of pain. Remember: live without Influence, Power, or Wealth. Understood?”
Don: “Yes, Master.”
Max: “And quit calling yourself ‘44.’ You’re 41, idiot.”
Don (timidly): “Master… how did you and Grandma meet?”
Max (flustered): “W-What kind of question—?!”
Grandmother (laughing): “Oh, that’s a great story!”
Max: “Helena—!”
Grandmother: “Your ‘scary owl eyes’ don’t work on me. I’ll tell him anyway.”
Max: “Over my dead body.”
Grandmother: “Watch your tongue, little bird, or I’ll pluck it out.”
Her sweet demeanor vanished. That day, I realized neither was what they seemed—yet their bond was unshakable. A fallen king and the woman who tamed his rage. But why did their love fill me with dread?
Back to the present:
“Maybe I’ll never be as ruthless as Master wants. He knows it.”
Returning to the farm, I found Max waiting, shadowed and stern.
Don: “Master, I’ve got the parts to fix the scarecrow. Took forever to find that merchant…”
Max: “Hand me the core.” His voice trembled.
He inspected the damage, paling.
Max: “This is… catastrophic.” Fear flashed—a first.
Don: “Master? What’s wrong?”
Max (recovering): “Repair the scarecrow later. Your second task starts now.” He tossed me a list and a pouch. “200 gold. Buy these by dawn. My patience is thin.”
Don (reading): “Royal tree leaf… empty ring… blue tears? Where? The merchant only sells tool parts!”
Max: “Figure it out. You’ll camp out two nights. Go.”
Don: “Let me tell Grandma—”
Max: “Go. Now. Or I’ll throw you out myself.”
Don: “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Max: “Wait.” He handed me his tattered, fur-lined coat.
Don: “Why give me this?”
Max: “It’ll protect you.”
Suddenly, his eyes burned crimson. Veins glowed, claws sprouted, and an owl-like crown materialized. Now I understood Grandma’s words: “His eyes are beautiful in the sun.”
Don: “See you soon, Master.” I bowed, hiding my awe.
Max (softly): “Your grandmother’s proud. To us… you’re our son.” He ruffled my hair. “One last lesson: Be great or be smart—your choice. But never burden those who love you. Clear?”
Don: “Yes, Master… Dad?”
Max: “Go!”
As I left, I glanced back. Max stood rigid, watching me go. Inside, Grandma wept silently. He hugged her, whispering:
Max: “It’ll be okay.”
Grandmother: “Till death parts us…”
They kissed—a fragile hope in the storm ahead.
What do you think about Max?
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