…

…

…

The malicious energy induced from the old man’s mana was clearly felt by everyone in proximity, and each and every single one, shuddered by it. Some might even fall to their knees if ever faced with mana as malicious as this. Frei was no different.

Frei was unable to move, only able to shudder in fear. As what he thought was death itself, was approaching swiftly. He clenched his fist tight, blood drained from his face and his body shivering.

Frei had no way of defending himself, and even if he did, the countless armed guards would just swarm him alongside the old man, beating down an already dead dog. A pointless retaliation, Frei thought to himself. 

As imminent death approaches closer and closer, his mana increases in intensity. Frei closed his eyes calmly, letting go of his clenched hands. He breathed deeply, accepting for whatever was about to come. May it be death. May it be torture. It doesn’t matter to him. Whatever time he spent here, adapting and living to his best ability. It doesn’t matter. As the old man readied his shoulders, preparing to slice off Frei’s head with a quick slash. 

But deep within Frei, lies a desire, a desire to live. A fragment of the past surged within him

A calling.

A voice.

Like an old picture book showing all the memories inside it.

During a winter night, in the midst of a big city. There was a young kid, a boy with rough black hair mixed with the white snow and dandruff, his skin pale, skin rough and starved to the bone. He was desolated in the streets, starved of necessities and a warm home. People passed by him, one by one, yet not a single one bothered to give him a single look. He simply wasn’t there in the eyes of the townsfolk. 

He sat in the middle of the streets, not budging, his eyes puffed with redness surrounding it and devoid of tears, his throat sore, unable to scream or yell. His lips had a light red color to it,and were ripped, lacking any moisture in it. The only clothing that he had on was a brown sweater and a jean so torn-up, that it became unrecognizable. Both his hands lied on the ground, his bare skin touched the icy cold stone floor on the path way. The only thing that gave him warmth then was the scarf he had on.

He held onto the scarf tightly with his rough pale hands and closed his eyes. He went into his own little world. In that little world, there are mostly beautiful and bright things, like how a kid would imagine. A land of peace and tranquility, where the kid would eat warm yummy food everyday, not having to endure the cold chilling pain again. 

He saw a cute butterfly, shining with colors. He tried to catch it and-

*bonk!*

He hit onto something, not knowing he hallucinated the butterfly. “Owwww” He exclaimed with what little energy he had left

There was a young little girl, holding an umbrella, humming. “Cool imagination.” she said with a soft smile on her face. “Grab my hands, I will show you a world that is just as beautiful!”

The kid grabbed her hands, and held it tightly, not wanting to let go.

“Don’t worry I won’t let go, I will never let you go again.” the little girl uttered softly, and when the kid caught a glance at her for just a slight moment, he saw a sad, melancholic expression on her face.

“What is the beautiful world that you were going to show me?”

Then a surge of energy within him was exerted..

*WHOOSH*

The sudden release of the pent-up energy Frei had, blew the area around Frei, pushing the old man a few steps back, the tables holding the cutlery and the small pebbles on the ground were promptly blown away, flying in all four directions.

The old man finds himself taken aback for a short moment. The fact that the mana of a mere slave, especially one so young in age with little to no experience in the field, bewildered him. Only a short moment after he recollects himself does he realize the audacity of the boy, Frei, to retaliate against him, which angered him. “What do you think you are doing? Boy?” he exclaimed, his voice shaking in anger as he tried his best to control himself.

Frei stood up and said “I…I don’t want to die. S-Sir.” His voice was shaking. However his eyes showed determination, gazing straight at the hunching old man, in the eyes, controlling his fear and emotions.

The old man didn’t say a single word after hearing Frei’s reply, only frowning angrily at him. He gritted his teeth and his hand clenching the cane tightly. He walked towards Frei, slowly, step by step all the while observing each of Frei’s movements carefully. Knowing that Frei had mana, he was more alerted and careful, fearing what the boy might do. He propped out his shoulders and arms more and lifted his hands higher to intimidate Frei.

When the old man got close, he swung his cane forcefully at the back of Frei’s head, hitting him. Frei fell down to his knees, both his hands covering his bleeding head in order to prevent any blood loss. 

Being exhausted and heavily injured, Frei was powerless to do anything against the old man. Frei faced the ground as the blood dripped from his eyes, then the eerie shadow of the old man casted by the campfire augmented, resembling the silhouette of a devil he once saw. For a short moment the shadow on the ground lifted its arms and Frei felt a blunt hit to his face.

Frei flew two steps to his right, and fell right onto the ground. His eyes were completely blinded by the blood, unable to see what hit him. He tried standing up, but his body refused. He propped both his hands on the ground and forcefully pushed himself, then he felt another blunt hit on his back. “ARGH” he yelled out in pain. 

Then he heard something right above him, a quiet subtle laughter.

“Hahaha.”

It was the old man. 

He continued to cane Frei until he curled up into a ball as an attempt to protect himself from the caning and an attempt to ease the pain. But it didn’t work. Then he remembered the times where he would see humans, people just like him get beat up this way. The people in FreiHeit, where Johnny, Arthur and Berg live their day to day life, facing discrimination for years on end. Now he understood how they felt, the pain and despair on their faces, he understood it all now. 

As he was getting caned, Frei bit down his lips, staying silent throughout all of it, not willing to give the old man any more satisfaction or give any of the outsiders any more entertainment. But it didn’t matter, just beating the boy was plentiful satisfaction for the old man as he smiled like a devil, beating Frei half to death. Eventually, the beating stopped for a short moment, and right when Frei thought the beating was over, he was turned to his back facing the ground and punched in the face.

This went on for five minutes, Frei would occasionally cry out in pain but tried his best to muffle it, and sometimes he would try to fight back, swinging his weak arms at the old man punching him, but would stop as the beating were increasingly getting more severe each time he did it. During the time the beating was going on, Frei hoped that the mana that surged a moment before would happen again, with each punch intensifying his wish, but it didn’t happen. Eventually he would stop hoping, and instead wished that he would’ve just died then without the sudden surge of mana and power. He then lays unconscious.

When he came to. It was still night time, and the campfire now dimly lit. He found himself lying on one of the trees in the forest, right next to the pathway. Frei looked behind him, a dozen trees planted in order, the perfect distance away from each other in order to grow as perfectly as they could. “This is no fucking forest.” He thought to himself. “No nature could be calculated this way.” He thought. “This is all human work, THEIR work.” He thought to himself. Frei found himself thinking differently than before, a bit more aggressive and a bit less naive. He lied on the tree, unmoving. Then a tear shed from his blood-dried eyes, flowing down his slightly deformed face. He cried.

*Tip*

*Tap*

*Tip*

*Tap*

Sounds of leather shoes tapping, approached from the campfire in the distance, then as he got closer to Frei. He saw a similar face. One of the nobles who had his eyes fixated on Frei. Approaching with a big wide smile on his face.

“Cuuuuuuutieeeeee~” the noble sang.