"Starting a new life," the man had said.
But to Nero, the words meant nothing. They'd simply walked away from Edmon's mansion—no goodbyes, no destination spoken. At least, not one Nero understood.
They walked endlessly, day after day. Miles passed beneath their feet with only brief rests beneath trees or by roadside stones. For a ten-year-old child, the distance was punishing. Still, Nero followed, too afraid to ask questions, too numb to care.
Eventually, they arrived in a town brimming with life. People bustled through the streets, shouting prices, bartering, laughing. But as they passed, heads turned—eyes lingered.
Nero felt every stare.
His ragged clothes and thin frame marked him like a brand. He looked like a slave. And in this world, slaves were treated as less than human—beings stripped of dignity, barely worth glancing at.
The man with the sharp nose finally looked at him. "Hm... are you hungry?"
Nero stared, unsure how to respond.
Gruuuuu...
His stomach answered for him.
The man chuckled softly. "I'll take that as a yes."
They found a street vendor selling grilled skewers, coated in a savory brown glaze. The scent alone made Nero's mouth water.
He devoured the food in seconds.
The man said nothing, merely watched, a strange smile playing on his lips. He hadn't touched his own plate.
When Nero finished, he eyed the untouched food across from him. His gaze was fierce, almost predatory.
"You want mine too?" the man asked, amused.
"May I… eat it?" Nero's voice was small.
"Of course. I'm not that hungry. Besides, looks like the food will be more useful in your stomach than mine."
Nero didn't wait. He dug in again with the same ravenous energy. And strangely, the man just kept smiling.
When the meal was over, Nero's expression shifted. His eyes dropped to the table, and a quiet sadness crept across his face.
"Was it not good?" the man asked.
"No—it was really good," Nero said quickly. Then, after a pause: "I just... don't understand why you're being kind to me. Even my own parents didn't want me."
The man leaned in, gently tapping Nero's chin to lift his gaze.
"I'm not being kind to you."
Nero blinked. "Then why?"
"I'm just doing my duty," the man said coolly. "Your family sold you."
Nero froze.
The words pierced his chest like a blade. "Sold... me?"
"They called you a child of calamity. In their eyes, you're dangerous. Worthless. A burden. But luckily, the man who bought you... isn't evil. He's my master. You'll be useful to him."
It was cruel. Cold.
Yet Nero found himself oddly... relieved.
At least someone wanted him. Even if only as a tool.
"I see," he whispered. "I'm just a tool."
The man nodded. "Exactly. So don't disappoint him."
Their conversation ended without ceremony. The man paid the vendor, and the journey continues.
The town gave way to fog. A valley shrouded in thick mist stretched before them. The cobblestone path vanished beneath white tendrils of fog. Every step echoed in eerie silence.
Nero stayed close behind the man, mimicking his movements. When the man stopped, so did Nero.
Ahead, a shadow emerged.
A figure loomed through the mist—tall, broad, wrapped in dark cloth, only his eyes visible. His build resembled that of a giant warrior, cloaked like a ninja with the bulk of a bear.
"Who are you?" the man with the sharp nose asked calmly.
The figure chuckled. "Hehehe... you've got guts, walking into this place so casually."
"Why not? There are no beasts here. No monsters. Just fog and fools." His tone was smug.
"Oh, but there could be monsters..." the large man said with a grin. "They just don't show up anymore—because they fear me."
"Is that so?" the sharp-nosed man said, a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Perfect."
The words hung in the air.
"What did you say?" the large man asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I said this is the perfect place... for your death."
Silence.
Then, the large figure laughed. "You're saying this child will fight me?" He gestured at Nero, a mocking laugh shaking the mist. "Hahahaha! You brought me a snack, not a challenge!"
"Underestimate him, and you'll die," the man said coldly. He stepped back. "Nero… prove your worth. Show him why you were called a calamity."
Nero's heart dropped.
What...?
He looked at the towering figure in front of him—easily twice his height, armed with a massive sword drawn from his back.
Nero's legs trembled. His fists clenched.
I can't do this. I don't even know how to fight!
But no one offered help. No one offered mercy.
"You're joking, right?" Nero muttered under his breath.
"You," the large man growled, stepping forward, "I'll kill you slowly."
The man lunged.
Steel gleamed
. The sword roared through the air, aimed directly at Nero's chest.
And all Nero could think was—
"I'm going to die..."
__To be continued__