The heavy oak doors of the dining hall hadn't even finished vibrating from the impact of the guards' entrance when Arain moved. He didn't run like a child caught in mischief; he slipped through the gaps in their formation like a wisp of smoke caught in a gale.
[Agility Buff: Temporary Synchronization with Past Self (0.01%)]
[Status: Muscles strained. Warning: Body of a 6-year-old cannot sustain prolonged exertion.]
Arain ignored the burning sensation in his calves. He wasn't in the hallway anymore. In his mind, he was back in the Obsidian Throne room, surrounded by a thousand knights, his cape tattered and soaked in the blood of those he once called brothers. The overlap of past and present created a dizzying resonance in his soul.
"After him!" Captain Valerius roared. The sound of clanking armor echoed through the corridor, a clumsy, rhythmic thunder that Arain found almost insulting.
He didn't head for his room. That was a cage. Instead, he led them toward the Hall of Reflection—a vast gallery lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors designed to showcase the Luxmore family's 'purity' and 'light.'
As Arain burst into the gallery, the moonlight filtered through the high arched windows, shattering against the silvered glass. He stopped in the center of the room. He breathed, slowly, counting the heartbeats of his pursuers.
One. Two. Three.
Five guards skidded into the room, their swords drawn. Behind them, Baroness Elara appeared, her face a mask of pale fury. She looked at Arain, who stood small and fragile amidst the towering mirrors, and her lips curled.
"Subdue him," she hissed. "If he resists, break a limb. We can always say he fell from the balcony."
Captain Valerius hesitated for a fraction of a second. There was something in the boy's stance—a lack of fear that felt like a trap. But orders were orders. He stepped forward, his hand reaching for Arain's shoulder.
"Young Master, don't make this difficult," Valerius muttered.
Arain didn't look at the Captain. He looked at his own reflection in the central mirror. A six-year-old face. Innocent eyes. But beneath the surface, the 'System' flickered like a dying star.
[Emergency Protocol: Mana Pulse (Cost: 20% Vitality)]
[Effect: Localized Gravity Distortion.]
"You talk about light as if it belongs to you," Arain's voice was a low hum that seemed to vibrate the very glass around them. "But light is nothing but the absence of the void. And the void... is hungry."
As Valerius's hand closed on his shoulder, Arain didn't pull away. He leaned in.
CRACK.
The central mirror didn't just break; it imploded. A wave of invisible pressure erupted from Arain's small frame. It wasn't a blast of fire or ice—it was a pure, raw rejection of the world around him.
Valerius was thrown backward as if struck by a battering ram. The other guards stumbled, their boots slipping on the polished marble as the floor beneath Arain began to frost over—not with ice, but with a black, crystalline residue.
[System Notification: Curse of the Fallen King - Stage 1 Manifestation.]
[Warning: Physical vessel reaching critical limit.]
Blood trickled from Arain's nose, staining his white collar. He felt as if his veins were being filled with molten lead, but his eyes remained locked on his step-mother.
"Is this what you feared, Elara?" Arain asked, his voice echoing from every shattered piece of glass in the room. It was a chorus of a thousand Arains. "The 'Mana-less' trash... actually has a core? Or is it that my mana doesn't look like your 'Holy Light'?"
Elara backed away, her heel catching on her gown. "This... this is black magic! Demon arts! Guards! Kill him! Kill the monster!"
The guards scrambled to their feet, their fear overriding their hesitation. They charged, their swords shimmering with the faint blue glow of Knight-level mana.
Arain didn't move. He closed his eyes.
Inside his mind, he reached for the 'System.' It wasn't just a menu; it was a fragment of the ancient consciousness he had bargained with in the moments before his first death.
'Give me more,' Arain demanded.
'The price is your childhood,' the System replied, its voice like grinding stones.
'I never had one,' Arain spat.
[Contract Accepted.]
[Skill Unlocked: Shadow Bind (Incomplete).]
Suddenly, the shadows cast by the moon on the floor came alive. They didn't rise; they deepened. The shadows beneath the guards' feet became liquid, rising up their legs like obsidian serpents.
"What is this?!" one guard screamed as the darkness gripped his knees, rooting him to the spot. "I can't move! My mana... it's being drained!"
Arain walked through the frozen line of guards. He stopped in front of Valerius, who was struggling to lift his sword. Arain reached out and touched the blade.
Ting.
The high-quality steel shattered like cheap porcelain.
"The Luxmore family is built on mirrors," Arain whispered to the Captain. "Shiny, reflective, and incredibly fragile."
He turned his gaze back to Elara. She was trembling now, her composure completely gone. This wasn't the boy she had bullied. This wasn't a human. To her, he looked like a nightmare draped in a child's skin.
"I won't kill you today, Elara," Arain said, his voice returning to that of a normal six-year-old, which somehow made it even more terrifying. "Death is a mercy. And I am not a merciful person."
Arain walked past her, headed for the grand balcony that overlooked the estate. He could hear more guards coming, more 'Light' mages being summoned from the inner sanctum.
He didn't care.
He reached the edge of the stone railing and looked out over the dark forests he had just escaped. He felt the System pulsing in his chest, a cold, mechanical heart that was now the only thing keeping him alive.
[Quest Update: Survive the Purge.]
[Reward: Path to the Forbidden Library.]
Arain climbed onto the railing. He looked back one last time at the chaos he had caused. The Baroness was on her knees, the guards were trapped in shadows, and the Hall of Reflection was a graveyard of broken glass.
"Tell the Duke," Arain shouted as he prepared to leap into the darkness below. "Tell him the 'Regret' he buried... has come back to haunt him."
He jumped.
The wind tore at his hair as he plummeted toward the garden below. He didn't feel fear. He felt the cold embrace of the void, and for the first time in two lives, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
[Current Collection Count: 3.]
[Fate Stealer Mode: Initiated.]
Author's Note :
"Arain finally stops hiding! 🌑🔥
The clash in the Hall of Reflection is just a taste of the 'Cursed Prince's' true power. But using the System this early comes with a heavy price. Will Arain survive the fall, or has he pushed his 6-year-old body too far?
"Welcome to all new readers from Fresh Stories! 🌑 If you like Arain's journey, don't forget to Add to Library. Let's hit our goal together!"