‘Too strong!’ Alhen screamed in his mind. The lack of air reaching his brain was starting to affect him, and he saw the world fading away.

  "Fight! Alhen, you must feel it," Father Vincent told him, but Alhen couldn’t focus at all.

  He kicked with all he had, trying to make the father release him, but his complexion became redder and redder until eventually, his eyes rolled back, and he went limp.

  Father Vincent didn’t stop, however, gripping even tighter and waiting for something.

  After holding on for a few more seconds, the father sighed and dropped Alhen to the ground.

  He crumbled, and for a few seconds, it didn’t look like he was breathing, but the father was calm, unsettlingly so.

  Alhen gasped the next second and opened his eyes, looking around, disoriented from waking up.

  Father Vincent didn’t give him time to rest; he kicked Alhen on the side and told him once more, “Respond to your own death. Feel it and embrace it, or you will not be able to activate your blessing’s second ability.”

  Alhen didn’t get it. He picked himself up from the floor and stumbled, hearing him but not fully processing his words.

  ‘Feel my death?’ he thought.

  When the father said something like that, only one thing came to mind.

  He took multiple deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. ‘Very well, I will feel it, you bastard.’

  Alhen closed his eyes, and surprisingly, the father didn’t attack him, observing his every movement and having a smile on his face.

  He looked inside himself, but still didn’t fully get what the father meant by "feeling death."

  'Could it be as simple as feeling my own death?'

  Technically, he had died in that mission with the siblings, and when he was healed at the Church of Healing. There were also many times when he saw his own death with his ability.

  'Wait a second, could that be it?'

  He focused all his strength on his thoughts and heart, but couldn’t manage to bring out the feeling that those moments caused.

  He frowned, still deep in thought. Father Vincent didn’t interrupt his thought process, having a light smile on his face.

  ‘You are on the right track,’ the father thought.

  Alhen could think without any problem; he, however, struggled to feel within himself. He couldn't bring out that feeling of despair and pain vividly.

  ‘Damn it! no matter what I think, I can’t find that feeling within me,’ he thought and opened his eyes.

  As soon as he did, he saw the closing figure of Father Vincent reaching out to grab him.

  His eyes widened, but he couldn’t do anything; the father grabbed his head and slammed him to the ground.

  “Guhhh.” Alhen’s body bounced, and he felt all the air leaving his lungs.

  When he landed on the floor, he didn’t expect the father’s advance to be this ruthless.

  Without caring about his condition, he stood quickly despite the lack of air and focused on the father, who was approaching with a sinister expression.

  “Until you use your blessing’s ability, we will be here, and I will beat you down over and over again until you get it.”

  “I tell you this so you can understand that there will be truly no way for you to leave, so focus on what you have to do,” the father said.

  Alhen frowned, but he didn’t mind. He took it as a challenge, holding the father’s gaze and getting into a position of defense.

  All he had to do was activate his blessing’s second ability; he did not need to fight, even if he wanted to hit his face right now.

  As the father said, he didn’t relent, hitting Alhen from all sides and leaving nasty bruises on his body.

  Every time he tried getting up, he would be kicked back down. Alhen gritted his teeth with unwillingness and looked at the father with eyes of hate.

  Father Vincent shook his head.

  “At this point, you will never activate your blessing’s second ability, and you will die. If you do not take this seriously, then I have no reason to take you and your threats seriously as well. Stand up and feel,” he said.

  Alhen’s whole body hurt, and standing up felt uncomfortable to the limit, but he still did, because what he was going through now was nothing compared to all the things that had happened to him throughout his life.

  He held his head high and looked at the father, and was immediately slapped back down.

  Father Vincent sighed, looking at Alhen’s pathetic figure on the ground, and frowned.

  “I see that no progress has been made, so let me tell you something. Why do you think Henry died?” he asked.

  Alhen looked at him, not understanding where he was going with this. “He died because you paired me up with him and forced us to kill each other,” he responded.

  Father Vincent shook his head.

  “He did not die on a whim. I am grateful for Henry, because he was the one who allowed you to build enough hatred and suffering for Lord Oros to accept you as a worthy wielder of his blessing.”

  It took a second for him to understand, but once he did, he had to fight with everything he had not to lash out at that second.

  “So you are telling me that Henry died just so I could feel hatred and gain Lord Oros’ favor? That has to be a joke, doesn’t it?”

  “It is not a joke; it is magnificent. Thanks to that kid, you are who you are today; do not forget it. His sacrifice was needed for you to become this strong, and at the end of the cycle, that is the only thing that matters.”

  “You must understand that everyone around you is a tool. I have told you this before, but it seems that you have yet to listen.”

  “Take my words in, and you will see yourself go through a metamorphosis so great that it will shape you into the perfect…” The father didn’t finish his words.

  “It seems like I almost got ahead of myself; ignore me,” he said, and Alhen looked at him with rage.

  He had stopped listening the moment the father had chosen to say that Henry’s sacrifice had only been to get him angry.

  Everything up to this moment, the man in front of him had calculated. He was playing with him and didn’t bother to hide it; he instead made it known to mess with him deeply.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Father Vincent, looking at his reaction, didn’t seem to be fully satisfied. He shook his head again, almost disappointed in what he was seeing.

  Alhen didn’t miss this gesture; he stood again, gritting his teeth, and rushed at the father with all his strength.

  He knew what was coming, but he didn’t care. Father Vincent, as expected, slapped him back down, and it was at that moment that he decided that he had to change his strategy.

  He dug deep in his mind while Father Vincent was talking to him, but he didn’t pay attention to a single word he said.

  He searched deep inside for traces of the feeling called death, but he struggled. It was only when he opened his eyes and looked at Father Vincent that he truly understood it.

  His eyes widened as he saw his neck being disconnected from his body and falling to the ground.

  Alhen fell to his knees and to the ground, lying without moving a muscle... he was dead.

  In real time, the world slowed in his eyes, and the father noticed this change, smiling widely.

  Alhen saw his lips curve up slowly, but then appeared in front of him in a flash and drove a fist straight into his stomach.

  Alhen bounced through the floor, feeling everything move in slow motion, and landed far away.

  His body was covered in sand and burns, and when he stopped rolling, he could only stare at the ceiling.

  The pain came in right after, and when everything returned to normal, he found himself unable to move, just like what happened back with Alaran.

  Father Vincent approached him slowly, taking his time walking to him.

  Alhen was dazed enough that he didn’t register when the father reached him.

  ‘How did he manage to move so fast when I activated my blessing?’ he thought, but couldn't voice it out.

  “Good, what you have done is remarkable; it seems that you are beginning to understand,” he said, but Alhen was in another world of his own.

  ‘So that was the key. As I thought, I have to see or experience my own death. It is quite unpleasant, but it allows me to have a triumph card when I need it.'

  Without realizing it, Alhen slowly closed his eyes, looking at Father Vincent, who seemed to be talking, but not a single word reached his ears.

  He had no more energy to think, and he slowly drifted off to a deep and peaceful sleep.

  When he opened his eyes again, he felt rested—at least his mind did, but his body was another thing entirely.

  He was back at the infirmary, or at least that’s what he thought. Looking around, he noticed that he was in his room, and there was an unopened vial next to him.

  Alhen sighed.

  ‘Very kind of them, but I can’t even move. How am I supposed to take it and drink it?’ he thought.

  Closing his eyes, his mind began wandering, but it was soon brought back to the vial.

  It was tempting him; if only he could grab hold of it, then the pain covering his body would go away almost instantly.

  ‘When did I get this lazy? The vial is right beside me, and just because I can’t feel my body, I’m not going to do anything to get it?’ Alhen shook his head, almost disappointed in himself.

  He was starting to think that his mind was becoming weak, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  Gritting his teeth, he used all of his willpower to move the muscles of his left hand, raising it a few inches off the bed before he felt himself start to give up.

  Due to exhaustion, his hand dropped a few inches, but he wouldn’t allow that to be the end of it. Alhen remembered the trial Edith had him go through.

  At that time, he had reached his true limit, and he knew that this wasn’t his true limit; he still had some fight left in him.

  Little by little, his hand kept going up and outwards, and the more it did, the harder it got.

  Alhen started sweating and even started having a nasty migraine, but he didn’t let his hand fall; he wouldn’t do it unless he reached his true limit or died.

  After a couple of seconds of extending his arm, he reached the vial and managed to wrap his fingers around it.

  Now his hand rested on the wooden table, and he took a few moments to breathe.

  ‘Good, first step done. Now it’s time to drink it.’

  Thankfully, the vial didn’t have a screw on it; otherwise, Alhen might not have had enough strength to open it on his own.

  He took the vial, cautiously raised it, and brought his hand back to his lips. To his relief, it had been easier to bring his hand back than to have it go out.

  He drank the contents of the vial and felt his body warming up and healing drastically from the damage he had received.

  In a moment of distraction, he had failed to realize that someone had entered.

  That person, of course, was Father Vincent, who seemed surprised that he was able to move and drink the vial after all the damage his body had gone through.

  Alhen had his eyes closed, relaxing his body before the feeling faded, and opened his eyes.

  The first thing that he saw was the father’s face, and a scowl immediately manifested on his face.

  “You don’t let me rest for even a second,” Alhen commented, and Father Vincent smiled.

  “I have to say that I underestimated you. I placed the vial there to give it to you when you woke up, but it seems that you were capable enough to handle it on your own.”

  “We will shortly depart for the castle. There is a banquet being hosted, and I have to discuss some things about the war with the king. This is also a great chance for you to make connections.”

  Alhen listened to him speak without saying a word, absorbing everything he was throwing at him.

  He threw the covers off himself and stood. His body had gotten better, but as usual, the Luna Ius didn’t recover all of his injuries instantly.

  It left him healed enough not to feel discomfort, but that was about it.

  “Lead the way; the sooner this matter is resolved, the better,” he said.

  If he were being honest, he would rather stay in the church honing his skills than wasting his time going to the castle, but there was nothing to be done.

  He was still wary of the royal family; he didn’t know what happened with the whole Kalle investigation, and whether they had figured out that he was the one who killed him.

  He had no way of knowing, but as long as he was careful, he should be fine, and it wasn’t like he was going alone.

  Despite his reluctance about going with Father Vincent, he was the only one who would keep him safe in that place, but this didn’t make him relieved; it only deepened his discomfort and disgust towards him.

  Having to rely on him, even if indirectly, was nauseating, but he would hold it in.

  He knew that to become better and have a chance at achieving anything, he would have to deal with these uncomfortable situations often.

  Alhen approached the door and looked back at the father, who had stayed in place looking at him with a serious expression.

  There was something wrong with him; he could feel it. The father wasn’t behaving like his usual self; there was something in his gaze that sent chills down his spine.

  Alhen looked at the father with seriousness, because he was smiling at him, a smile so chilling that his eyes widened and he could swear that his blood became cold.

  “Alhen,” the father said.

  He didn’t speak, not yet; until he had the full picture, he didn’t dare do anything.

  “Do you think that I do not know?” the father began, and Alhen frowned, not understanding where he was going with his words.

  “I have been told that you beat up the nun tending to your wounds half to death a couple of hours ago.”

  “Thankfully, there were other nuns nearby who came into that room because they had cleaning duties and found her barely breathing.”

  “They managed to secure her a Luna Ius and saved her from dying from the brutal beating she received. This is great, is it not?” Father Vincent asked him, looking into his eyes intently with joy.

  It was then that Alhen remembered what he had done.

  Thinking about it, he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t him.

  A look of shame crossed his face, but remembering that these nuns were not innocent, he shook his head and looked up at the father, not taking his eyes away.

  “What is your point? Yes, I beat her half to death, so what? Are you mad? What will you do about it?” Alhen asked, breathing somewhat heavily.

  The words almost got stuck in his throat, but he managed to say them without stuttering.

  “Me, mad? I could not be happier. Do you know what this means, Alhen? Lord Oros is slowly starting to influence you.”

  Alhen froze, not daring to breathe.

  “The longer you hold a Lord's blessing, the more you will change. This is also true when you become stronger. Expect to do things like these many times in the future.”

  Alhen widened his eyes, and a primal fear gripped his heart.

  He could barely move, and swallowing became hard. Something dark was stirring within him, joyful, beating erratically, and demanding blood.

  He looked ahead of him, and he saw the father drenched in it, smiling maniacally with his arms wide open, almost as if asking for a hug.

  “Come here, join me,” he saw the father’s lips move.

  Alhen’s pale expression became even whiter. Those words that came out of the father—it wasn’t him, he knew; it was something else. It was, Lord Oros.

  Alhen held his head, defending against the sudden migraine that started invading his body.

  It kicked in at full force, and it grew even stronger, affecting his whole body and deforming the reality in front of his eyes.

  “My child, grow strong. Lean into me; I will give you power. Power that you cannot begin to comprehend, to make every desire in your heart come true.”

  “Accept me. Embrace me,” the father, or better said, Lord Oros, whispered to him.

  His words were definitely not a language he knew, but he could still understand.

  He fell to his knees and threw up all he had in his stomach before collapsing.

  His eyes and ears bled simultaneously, and the world became twisted, glowing a powerful red and enveloping everything around him.

  Alhen looked up at the father, and what he saw, he couldn’t describe; it was something that couldn’t be explained with words.

  He held his head and screamed; he screamed without rest. And a second later, he felt a hand touching his shoulder, and everything around him faded into normalcy.

  He panted heavily and noticed that he wasn’t bleeding, nor was everything around him twisted. He had turned back and was left gasping for air.

  Looking in front of him, Father Vincent was there, smiling warmly at him, and underneath that smile, there was something else.

  “Alhen, you are the chosen one. Keep getting stronger; you have to keep going,” the father said, and for the first time, Alhen didn’t wish for power.