In an act of need, the young master pulled his sword up, enduring the pain radiating in his hands. With swift eyes, the young master located Ozias's sword and guessed where it would hit before pulling his sword up to block it. Moments later, a hard "Thwack!!" burst through the environment as the young master guessed correctly. However, the hit pushed him back several feet, and he nearly dropped his weapon from the sheer pain. However, it was even worse for Ozias; a harsh force surged through his broom to his hands as splinters dug into them from the unpolished broom handle. 

Yet even though the pain he was feeling was much to bear for a child, he smiled. His heart raged like a horse as sweat punctured his dark gold eyes. They lit in a reddish hue as the sun beamed down onto the two of them. 

Both ready to attack once again, they charged towards the other with only the thought of winning implanted in their heads. They ran and arrived next to each other before they both mindlessly swung. Although they had years of training, in the face of a true fight, it had all vanished before them as differing feelings emerged in their bodies. 

With another "Thwack!!" they were both pushed back, however! Instead of preparing himself once again, Ozias fought through the force of their hit and rushed in even further, pushing through the recoil and catching the young master off guard. 

Still being pushed back from their prior hit, the young master was completely vulnerable as those golden blood-filled eyes approached. Knowing he could do nothing, he shut his eyes and prayed. While Ozias developed a crazed look in his eyes, in front of him was one of the people who had caused him constant struggle. And he was also the son of the person directly responsible for the death of their family! Next to him, blood lust flooded the boy's eyes as he swung his broom towards the young master's head! He had the sole goal of killing the young master in this one blow!! 

From the sidelines, though, the instructor stepped in. At one moment, he seemed like a strong middle-aged man, yet at the next, he seemed like an unrecognizable figure! Strange, tangly energy flew from his body as the air around him shifted! He stepped once yet seemed to move a thousand steps as he pulled directly in front of the two young fighting children. 

With his wooden sword in hand, he swatted Ozias away as though he were a fly that needed to be killed. 

Moments before, Ozias had noticed the weird shift in energy. He was familiar with it; each morning when training with his father, he would use an energy like it and train him with it. However, in comparison to his father, the instructor seemed to be a god that overwhelmed everything! 

With one clean sweep, he swung his sword and smashed through the broom before making its way towards Ozias's chest! Shards of wood flew, scattering in all directions, while the instructor's sword came down and crushed multiple of Ozias's bones, leaving a large imprint on his chest. 

The boy soared after the hit, where he was thrown onto another training platform. He contacted it before rolling further. 

From a glance, it would be hard to tell if he was alive. Even the instructor did not know, but before he could care about Ozias, he had to care for the young master. 

"Young master, are you okay?" 

Tears built in the young master's eyes as he sought to stay strong, although it was of no use as tears still fell from his blurry eyes. 

"It's okay. You did great out there! Although we need to remember to keep using the techniques we learn to ensure we can properly defeat our victims." 

The instructor used this as an opportunity to teach the young master, ignoring Ozias's struggling body several feet away. They soon left, leaving him alone. 

Collapsed on the ground, blood pouring out of his mouth, Ozias stayed motionless, seemingly unconscious. 

Time passed as the sun began to set, while deep, dark clouds passed over the once bright sky, releasing the moisture they held. 

Water droplets rained down onto the earth as every plant and tree quenched their thirst. With their roots, they held dearly onto the pour of water seeping into the ground with all they had. Every living thing wanted to live and to do so, they needed their proper life-giving nourishment. Those that rejected it would soon find themselves dead. 

On the training grounds, small puddles formed along the divots between different platforms. 

With each drop, Ozias slowly shook into reality to witness the near-black clouds blocking the setting sun. He knew the punishments awaiting in the manor. Not only had he not completed his tasks, but he had also been gone the entire day. 

With a heavy groan, he slowly attempted to stand; however, a heavy pain went through his chest as he collapsed once again. It was a near-killing hit. The world watched in surprise, thinking he was dead. Only he knew though, that he could not die. Not yet. 

With newfound strength, he tried to stand up once again. And with a heavy struggle, he staggered up. Cool bursts of water relaxed as the once-dried blood around his mouth became moist. Wiping it, Ozias's eyes glinted with a hatred rarely seen in children as he limped to the manor at a slow pace. 

With each trudge he took, hate grew in his heart, fueling his dying body to continue. 

Every living being stood in silence, seeing the struggling boy. They also saw his heavy determination culminating in his golden eyes. 

He continuously walked, arriving at the front of the estate, seeing the countess standing under an umbrella with countless servants around her, watching for her every need. 

Her nightly hair tailed down her sky-blue dress as she stood, watching. 

Where she was looking, two horses pulled along a caged carriage towards them. Inside the cage was a young boy, similar in appearance to Ozias. He also had gold hair, however, something seemed different. It felt as though his gold hair was dim, stiff, and rough. 

From the side, the countess smiled with a light blush on her face as she spoke to servants. From far away, he could not hear what she was saying but knew what was happening. 

It was only a matter of time before it occurred; since his very first day, he knew. Ozias turned around and entered through a side door, trying not to see anyone. Not only could he not handle anything more, but he also looked horrendous, which would bring even more harassment. Inside, he trudged towards his room, but every step he took stained the carpets inside a muddy red color. He continued anyway; currently, all he wanted to do was rest; that was what he absolutely needed. 

After a short time, he arrived in front of his small, cramped room. Without a second thought, he walked in and removed his drenched clothes. Under them, a deep slash made its presence known. On his chest, there was a dent where he had been hit earlier. Luckily, it did not spur blood as it had not broken skin. Surely, though, inside his body, he was bleeding horrifically. It was a surprise that he was not dead. Just by moving, he could tell that the bones had shattered, yet they somehow did not manage to pierce any important organs that would have killed him. Many would have considered it an intervention from a god; however, Ozias viewed it differently. He realized the gods wanted him to suffer more, as though he had not gone through enough pain. 

With staggering steps, Ozias looked through his supplies and found bandages to try and patch his wound with. 

Carefully, for the next thirty minutes, through pain and torture, he was able to wrap himself in them, although they would not do much. 

Afterward, he stepped back and delicately laid down on the rough, old bed. To survive, he needed rest, which was the only thing he had access to currently. 

But he could not have even that. Moments after lying down, his door banged open as the same butler that had entered earlier was here again. He stepped into the cramped room before speaking to him. 

"The countess would like to see you now." 

Ozias looked at him blankly as he meticulously stood up. 

"Okay… Thank you for alerting me." 

He slowly walked past the young butler with a limp while wearing his silk shirt. The butler looked at him with disgust as he walked to her quarters. 

Up the stairs and down the hallway, just as before, Ozias found himself in front of her bedroom. He knocked lightly as his body shivered. A moment later, a female servant opened it, welcoming him in. 

Anxiously, he stepped in and looked towards the large bed, where he saw the countess. Her long, nightly dark hair hung down her perfectly shaped body. Every strand covered her perky privates, leaving most unsatisfied. Under her hair, she wore a see-through silk nightgown that comfortably fit her figure. 

She had a light blush as she smiled, her gaze filled with lust, looking at Ozias. She had light makeup on, which, when accompanied by the soft lighting in the room, made her look beautiful, entrapping most who would look into her bright brown eyes. 

"Come, join me. It is quite cold tonight. Let us embrace each other one final time." 

Ozias knew what this meant. She had used this excuse many times to get him here, where she could do as she pleased. But even though he knew this, he could do nothing about her. 

She walked over to him before wrapping her arms around him. Her semi-long nails carefully gripped Ozias as she dragged him to the bed. He stayed still for a moment, wanting to resist, scream, and flail for help, yet he could not. The servants here would kill him with any sudden movements. All he could do was follow her request. 

Just as today, it had happened months ago as well, when he had lost his chastity to her. At the age of nine, two months ago, she abused him for the first time. And today, they would perform the same act they had done months ago, without the consent of Ozias.