— "Where did I go wrong…?" — he murmured.
The dim glow of an oil lamp flickered against his weary crimson eyes. In the hidden basement behind the library, Vain secluded himself from the world above — trying, once again, for the tenth time today.
A faint burn on his hand stung with each movement, but he didn't care.
Yesterday, while rummaging through a stack of old scrolls, Vain had accidentally knocked over a thick, dust-covered book — so old it seemed sealed by time itself. The noise drew his attention, and he bent down to pick it up — its weight surprising him.
— "Phew… Whoever made this probably didn't want a kid messing with it." — Vain muttered.
He brushed the dust off the cover. It puffed up into his face, making him cough violently — as if the book greeted him in its own way.
Once the dust settled, he opened the first few pages — and his eyes lit up.
— "Magic arrays…" — he whispered with joy.
The library doors slammed open as he sprinted out, face glowing with excitement. Curious servants turned to look.
— "If you pour energy into the matrix, even someone with almost no mana can operate the array…" — he kept repeating the line from the book.
The storeroom door slammed open with a bang as he barged in. The startled magi looked up. An old man with a long silver beard approached, puzzled.
"Master Vain, what brings you here today?"
"Mana vessels…" — his voice was barely audible.
"Ignis… Bring me all the mana vessels you can. To the library." — His confident tone belied the fire he believed he had found.
— Back to the present —
"This is the… how many times now?" — He lost count after thirty. His jaw clenched. "Why… why… I followed everything the book said…"
But he wouldn't give up.
"I must've missed something… I…"
He was about to continue when a hoarse, regretful voice echoed.
"You did nothing wrong, young master…"
Startled, Vain turned. "Ignis…? How long have you been there?"
Ignis sighed, disappointed — perhaps even a bit sorrowful.
"You've read the book I wrote… Vorn Delan Vain."
Vain's mouth opened to speak, but Ignis cut in, his tone sharper now:
"Almost no mana… is not the same as no mana. Face the truth."
That sentence struck like a hammer to Vain's heart. His chest tightened, vision blurred. Words trembled in his throat, but none came out. There was nothing left to say.
Like the faint flame in his soul — everything had turned to ash.
Ignis turned away and added,
"When I entered, I cloaked myself with a basic concealment spell. If you had even a sliver of mana, as described in that book, you would've sensed me immediately."
"I had a little hope for you, Vain… Just a little."
And then he left — leaving behind only scattered books, empty mana vessels, and a half-finished array.
Vain sat in silence. Darkness crept in, within and around him.
"No hope from the beginning…" — he whispered.
"Why?"
He slammed his hand onto the wooden floor.
"Why?"
Again.
"Why?"
Again.
"WHY?!" — His scream echoed through the empty library.
No one heard his pain.
Memories crashed in — ones he tried to bury.
His father's words from that day:— "If the blood of Delan truly runs in my veins, I cannot stop here…"
His cousin Ervan:— Whispering, "You're not even better than a commoner…" then laughing.
The flattering servants:— "Useless. Unlike young Ervan — he could already control three cursed spirits at age 8."
The mockery grew louder… deafening…
Then — silence. Darkness. Nothingness.
Vain "stood" in an empty void — no sound, no weight, no reality. Nothing remained. No library. No oil lamp. No spell. No laughter.
Then, a voice. From deep within.
— "How long are you going to keep standing there?"
It was a boy's voice — like his own, but colder. Sharper. Emotionless.
— "All that effort? You call that trying?"
— "Who… Who are you?" Vain looked around.
— "Who? I'm the one you dragged down here, dumbass."
"I…"
He tried to speak, but the voice interrupted.
— "You crave validation."
Vain clenched his fists. Perhaps… that was what he always truly wanted.
— "But I…"
"I want to survive," the voice continued. "I don't need validation."
— "Only the weak chase that. Like you."
"You suppress these feelings. You hide them. But you want to be great, don't you?"
— "Wake. Up."
Vain didn't respond. He couldn't.
The voice spoke again.
— "Enough. The time has come."
"SURVIVE OR DIE."
— Vain's eyes snapped open. Blurry vision.
He sat up, dizzy.
The smell of burning… smoke filling his lungs.
Then came the screams. Clashing steel. Shouts.
— "Young Master! Lord Vain! You must get out! The Alliance Army broke through the west gate!"
He ran — up from the basement — and saw it:
The Delan estate, engulfed in fire. Magi fighting for their lives. Servants fleeing in panic.
His father, Samuel, fought desperately below — holding off a squad of Alliance soldiers. Zealots who branded Velk's black magic as heresy.
"Vain… Run! I'll—"
Before he could finish, a high-ranking officer drove a sword through Samuel's throat.
"FATHER!"
Vain rushed forward — but a servant grabbed him, hoisting him away.
"Young Master Vain, we must leave!" The servant was trembling, tears streaming, but he spoke firmly. "That… was Lord Samuel's final order."
Reality sank in. More despair piled onto his fragile heart. His body went limp, eyes dim, carried only by the will of the man dragging him to safety.
As they fled, visions burned into Vain's memory:
The fall of a noble house — no, an empire.
Ervan, his cousin — skewered in the flames, screaming:
— "Brother Vain… Help… me…!"
The servant girls — assaulted by the invaders.
The boys — mutilated beyond recognition. Limbs torn. Flesh shredded.
The magi — dying like animals.
And the man who killed his father — Vale — pulled his blade from Samuel's throat. A beast in holy armor, golden hair flowing like a divine executioner. One hand held a staff, the other, a bloodied sword.
"Lord Vale," said a soldier, "We captured this woman — she's his wife."
Vale barely looked.
Three soldiers dragged a young woman, unconscious, blood and ash streaking her face.
"She was the youngest of Samuel's wives…"
The soldiers hesitated, whispering.
"Can we…?"
Vale cut in, cold and indifferent:
"Do as you wish."
He walked away, never glancing back.
Even the holy paladins looked at the soldiers with disgust — but followed Vale without a word.
His final command echoed:
— "Kill them all. Let the knowledge of Velk return to dust."