[Quest has been Completed]
[Kill Your Greatest Foe: Gustav]
Those words burned themselves into my vision as the system chimed softly, almost gently, as if it weren’t announcing the end of a life that had once cast a long, ugly shadow over mine, and when the reward followed—ten thousand experience flooding into me like a tide and a new skill unfolding itself, Silent Walker—I couldn’t help but nod slowly, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I summoned the system interface, my thoughts steady, my heart eerily calm.
The familiar panel bloomed open before my eyes.
[Host]
[Attributes] [Bloodline, Abilities, and Skills] [Quests: Main, Daily, System] [Shop]
------------------------------------------------
{Bloodline, Abilities, and Skills}
©Bloodline: Cursed, ?????.
»Dash - Level 2
»Cursed Regeneration - Level 2
»{Immunity to Toxin, Fire, Cold, Illusion} - Level 3
»Cursed Menace - Level 1
»Cursed Charm - Level 2
[High-grade meditation technique} acquire]
»Cursed Morph - Level 2
»Cursed Metamorphosis - Level 1
»Cursed Eyes - Level 2
»Silent Walker - Level 1
{Movement ability of quiet advancement}
»Earth Manipulation - Level 5
»Fire Manipulation - Level 4
»Wind Manipulation - Level 4
»Water Manipulation - Level 2
------------------------------------------
Without hesitation, I called up Bloodline, Abilities, and Skills, and the list unfurled like a confession I could no longer deny.
My cursed bloodline, still shrouded in question marks—alongside abilities that had long since stopped feeling borrowed and had begun to feel natural: Dash, regeneration, layered immunities, menace, charm, morphing flesh and eyes that pierced far deeper than darkness, and now Silent Walker, a movement so quiet it felt like the world itself forgot I was there.
As my gaze drifted downward to the elemental skills—earth, fire, wind, water—I exhaled slowly, thinking how ironic it was that these powers, so destructive head-on, were not what defined me most, because even now I knew their levels were only so high because of my sub-technique, the deliberate way I had forced myself to use them again and again, carving familiarity into instinct.
What truly changed me, however, was Cursed Charm.
As time passed, my understanding deepened, and I realized it wasn’t mana that fueled it, but mental fortitude, a frightening revelation that shifted my perspective entirely, because with enough strength of mind I could twist thoughts, guide emotions, plant impulses—temporarily, yes, but with a cost—since a permanent link formed the moment the charm succeeded.
Once linked, I didn’t need to reactivate anything; merely being within a certain range was enough for influence to seep in again, subtle and persistent like a whisper that never quite faded.
Through trial and error, I uncovered its catalysts: eye contact was the first, simple and terrifying; the second came when curiosity pushed me too far—flies, insects, wild animals—and in that moment it dawned on me that everything had a mind, not equal, not the same, but present nonetheless, waiting only for sufficient willpower to be touched or torn open.
With my mental fortitude growing, my ambitions quietly rose with it, and yet as my fifth birthday approached and the seasons shifted, something began to feel wrong.
Pests fled our home, swarming into the village as if escaping an unseen pressure, and though I was happier than I had ever been—laughing with my family, living days that felt warm and ordinary—unease crept in like a shadow I couldn’t shake, one I tried to dismiss as fatigue, backlash from constant mental strain, or the lingering links I still held to those boys’ minds.
But the feeling only grew.
That night, sleep took me as usual, and then the dream came—fire everywhere, heat choking the air, my family bound and screaming while I stood immobilized in thick iron chains, helplessly watching as men in black garments tortured and slaughtered them one by one, and somewhere deep inside my mental world something awakened
When I opened my eyes inside the dream, blood flooded my vision.
Villagers, my family, bodies strewn across the ground, and there—reflected in the crimson pool—stood a silhouette with six glowing red eyes and curling horns, claws where my hands should have been, dripping with blood that was still warm, and from my throat tore a shriek so sharp it split the smoke as a howl echoed through the ruined night.
Then, a voice.
"Ragna... Ragna..."
Muffled at first, growing clearer, softer, dragging me back—
I gasped awake, lungs burning, to find Oge standing over me, her face pale and confused, staring like she was looking at a stranger, and only then did I realize I was on the floor, drenched in sweat, my body trembling despite my calm expression.
"Are you okay?" she asked, worry cracking her voice.
"I’m fine," I lied, pushing myself up only to stumble, the certainty settling in my chest that the dream wasn’t just a dream—it was a warning, an instinct screaming of something terrible approaching.
I knew then that if I was ever going to tell her the truth, it had to be now.
I told her I needed to show her something in the woods—something important, something that couldn’t wait—and as we ran, her questions piled up, fear creeping into her steps while I refused to answer a single one, dashing ahead to ensure we weren’t followed, erasing tracks with movements I could now perform several times a day.
Once we were deep enough, I stopped.
"First, don’t be scared," I said quietly.
"Second, don’t scream."
"Third, don’t ask questions—I don’t want attention."
I looked at her, met her eyes, and spoke the truth I had been carrying alone.
"I’m a truly a monster," I said, voice steady despite the weight of it, "and I think our lives might be in danger."
She froze.
"Wait—what?"
[Author Notes: I would like to say a big thank you to everyone for reading this novel, and our top fans,I appreciate every comment, review, powerstones, golden tickets you guys give the book. But we need more.]
[Our hunger grows!]
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