He packed his belongings slowly, each item a reminder of the life he was leaving behind. He had made a promise to his father—if he failed to enroll in the Light Organization, he would be disowned. And now, that promise had become reality.
As he folded the last of his clothes into the worn-out bag, the door swung open.
Kael stepped inside.
Not quite his brother—not really. They shared a father, but not a mother. Kael was the legitimate heir. He was the outsider. The bastard child.
A smirk curled on Kael's lips. "So, it finally happened. Father disowned you. Honestly, I'm surprised he didn't do it sooner. You don't even have light magic. What were you expecting?"
He clenched his jaw. That's what I've been wondering too, he thought. Why didn't Father throw me away from the start? He could've left me at some orphanage. I never assumed he loved me. He was never kind. Never warm.
"I don't know," he replied coldly. "Why don't you ask him?"
Kael's face twisted in rage. "Him? Did you just call Father that? You bastard!" He lunged, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.
"After all the privilege you got from Dad, this is how you repay him? With disrespect?"
Privilege? The word stabbed deep. What privilege?
"When I was a child," he said through gritted teeth, "I never felt love from him. No acknowledgment. I was treated like I didn't exist. The only 'privilege' I had was being allowed to live in this house like a rat, crawling in the corners, unnoticed."
He grabbed Kael's wrist, pried his fingers off his collar, and shoved him back.
"Don't talk to me about privilege," he spat. "He disowned me. Why should I still call him Father?"
He took a step forward, his eyes burning with fury.
"You all treat me like I'm nothing—like I'm already dead. None of you ever tried to see what I'm capable of. You judged me based on what I lack instead of who I am."
His voice cracked, not with weakness, but from years of holding back.
"I'm done. If you can disrespect me so easily, then I don't owe any of you, my respect. So, get out—before I lose what little patience I have left."
Kael hesitated, stunned. For the first time, he saw not the powerless outcast—but someone ready to stand alone, even against blood.
He stood at the gates of the mansion, glancing back one last time. The home he had lived in for years now felt like nothing more than a cold memory.
After all those years of trying to become a Light wielder—of forcing himself to fit in—there had been no progress. No recognition. No acceptance. But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was this:
He was powerful. A powerful Dark user.
But he could never show it to his father.
Dark magic was feared—hated. In society's eyes, it was an unnatural force. A threat to humanity. To wield it was to be marked, judged, and cast aside.
As he rode away, his mind wandered. Where do I go now? Where can someone like me live?
He had no friends. No family. No place that would accept a Dark user as a hero.
In this world, only Light users could become heroes. Dark users… they were seen as criminals. If he were to be accepted anywhere, it would be among the underworld—among villains, not heroes.
The car came to a slow stop in a narrow alleyway.
Before him stood a small, run-down building—barely noticeable from the main street. It was the headquarters of a minor guild. One that hired the lowest-ranked heroes: E and F ranks. Their jobs were simple—catching petty thieves or slaying low-grade monsters for spare coin.
It wasn't glorious. It wasn't respected.
But maybe… just maybe… it was a place to start.
He tried entering the small guild with a sliver of hope left in him—but that hope was crushed the moment they learned about his power. As soon as they found out he was a Dark magic user, they rejected him on the spot.
"There's no place for someone like you in a hero guild," the receptionist said firmly, not even bothering to hide her disgust.
The other heroes nearby snickered.
"You'd be accepted right away if you applied to a criminal organization," one of them jeered.
He stood there silently, swallowing his anger as they laughed at him—mocked his existence. They didn't see his potential. They only saw the darkness he carried.
Still, he refused to give up.
He moved from guild to guild, but the response was always the same.
Rejection.
Fear.
Prejudice.
The reason never changed: "You're a Dark user. We can't accept you."
Eventually, worn down and exhausted, he wandered through a narrow backstreet and passed by a worn-down building. A shabby sign creaked in the wind above the door. It looked nothing like the other guilds—more like a forgotten outpost than a hero's guild.
Curious, he stepped inside.
The room was small and dimly lit, with only a few people scattered about. They turned their heads and stared at him quietly as he entered. It wasn't judgmental… just cautious curiosity.
He approached the counter, where a bored-looking man sat flipping through a logbook.
The man looked up and raised a brow. "Are you applying as a carrier boy?"
"Carrier?" he asked, puzzled.
He looked around the guild hall more closely this time. No banners. No mission boards. No heroes bragging about quests. Just worn tools, crates, and simple gear stacked around the room.
Then it clicked.
This wasn't a traditional hero guild. It was a carrier guild—a place for those who worked behind the scenes. Carriers were hired to lift gear, carry supplies, or serve as keepers for heroes who didn't have storage magic. While useful in certain jobs like mining or logistics, carriers were seen as the lowest rung in the ladder.
A carrier wasn't considered worthy of joining a hero party. They served heroes—but they weren't heroes.
No wonder it's so shabby, he thought. No one dreams of becoming a carrier. Still, this place hadn't rejected him. Not yet. And maybe... this was where something new could begin.
"You have a storage magic?" receptionist asked.I nodded."What kind of storage magic?"
I paused, memories flashing back. The first time I used this magic was to hide my artifacts from my father. Dark artifacts were forbidden in our household, so I had no choice but to store them away in my magic. I closed my eyes and summoned my Void Storage.
Gasps filled the room. The attention of everyone inside shifted to me in shock."D-Dark magic?" the receptionist muttered in disbelief.
I quickly stopped the magic, sensing their fear. I turned to leave, ready to walk away before things got worse—until an old man stepped out from the corner of the room.
"You're approved," he said.
I froze. My heart raced with joy and disbelief. I couldn't even describe the emotion I felt hearing those words. But before I could respond, a guild member suddenly shouted, "You're crazy, old man! He's a dark user! Do you want to die?"
He glared at me with hatred, but the old man's reply silenced the entire room."So what? That storage magic is exactly what this guild needs."
He turned to me, his gaze sharp but calm."That storage magic is limitless, isn't it?"
I nodded.
He stepped closer and gently tapped my shoulder."From now on, you're part of this guild. I'm the master here. You can start tomorrow."
I placed my hand over my chest, overwhelmed with gratitude. Finally… I was able to join a guild. Not a hero guild, maybe—but at least, I could finally take part in a hero's mission.