I hate people who are weak and act like they aren't.
My hands sway side to side, momentum taking the reins of my body.
People who puff out their chests, swinging swords they can barely lift. Acting like they'd fight to their last breath when they can't even stand pain for a minute. It pisses me the hell off. Because that's all they do…pretend.
I can hear their voices behind me; however, the forest's leaves brushing against each other due to the wind slightly covers the sound.
They hide their weakness behind some fake pride, hoping no one sees what's underneath.
They don't serve any purpose. They don't want to. They just keep living the same boring lives, never pushing, never bleeding for something better. Just waiting for someone stronger to save them. A parasitic existence.
My hand travels to my sheath.
B L A Z E B A N Eexists for people like that.
It burns from the inside. Not just flesh and blood, but lies. It digs into the inside, into that hollow core they keep sealed off, until everything fake leaves their body, burning it in the process. It shows what they really are and gives their untapped strength to me.
Or at least that's how I interpret it.
'The strong prosper, while the weak regress.'
That's what everyone around me used to say. A stupid slogan people repeated to make themselves feel justified. It's used when they couldn't care less about one of their friends getting cut down in front of them.
Still… there's truth in it.
If you're not willing to suffer, you don't deserve to grow. If you can't handle pain, then just wallow in it forever, whining. That's the rule of this world, no matter how much people cry about fairness.
"The ones who suffer shall prosper, and the ones who don't, regress."
That one fits better. Because strength doesn't come from pretending to be unbreakable at all. It comes from actually withstanding the beating.
...Right?
That's how it works. It has to be….
Never mind.
Just forget it.
Damn it all.
Just who the hell does he think he is, yelling at me, huh?!
Fucking weakling!!