The Gamer's POV

Hundreds of human voices, the shrieks of creatures, the clanging of weapons, and the explosion of magic could be heard all across the battlefield.

On the bridge, the battle had grown even more intense than before because the Nagas from the sea were now all actively scaling the stone pilings. At this point, fewer than five hundred people were left overall, and the number kept decreasing as more people fell to the Nagas’ assaults.

The part of the bridge that was holding the firmest was the front section, just before the hollow ones. They had the hollow ones, Aurora, and Asmodeus to spearhead the defense. Directly behind them was Athena, who tried to bolster the line in the middle part of the formation.

However, the part of the bridge which grew overwhelmed and suffered the most casualties was the part that was furthest back. This was because the Nagas had climbed onto the bridge from the rear, then moved to attack them from behind. The cadets who were at this part did not have strong fighters of the third grade to aid their struggling ranks so they labored to repel the sudden flanking maneuver.

Among those who struggled in this back was Dion. After being healed by Athena and as the chaos of the Naga ascent grew more intense, he kept moving back as he fought to help those who were failing behind him.

He really wanted to help as many people as he could.

Even if all he could do was use his skill to pull the cadets from danger or to push the Nagas back into the water, he pushed himself to the brink. He believed that if he did that, many cadets would have space to breathe or recover.

But then, this battle made him face his limitations. It made him realize again just how weak he was. When more and more cadets kept slipping from his grip, he grew more and more hollowed out by the shame of his failing strength.

He felt like he was not a shield people could rely on, but rather a sieve that always let life leak through his fingers.

Truth be told, he had always felt this way. Part of the reason his family treated him like a ghost at his own dinner table, and why they had always looked at him with disappointment, was because even though he was the first son, he was the one with the weakest skills.

Just push and pull. That was all he could do.

Push and pull.

There were times he was thankful that his bonded ability was at least a bit powerful to make up for his weakness. But then, what could he do if he was sober?

What could he do without alcohol, just like now?

At this moment, he kept comparing himself to the rest of his party members and the more he did, the more he felt like he was falling far behind them.

He hated the feeling because it seemed to confirm every cruel word his father had ever spoken to him.

"You are weak!"

"You are pathetic!"

"Your skills are useless!"

"You lack potential."

And many more.

He let out a long, tired sigh.

How he wished he was born into a nobler family.

Maybe then he would have been stronger than he was now.

Maybe then he would have really powerful skills.

Maybe then, he would be able to protect the people he wanted to protect.

Maybe then...

He was still spiraling in his despair and weakness when he suddenly remembered a conversation he had with Cedric in the home of the hollow ones.

***

Home of the Hollow Ones...

Some time ago.

——

After a particularly grueling training session, Dion was sitting on the cold stone floor of the Palestra when Cedric suddenly appeared beside him. He turned to Cedric, then smiled and said, "Hey."

Cedric looked at him quietly for a moment, then asked, "You alright?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"You used to jump anytime I appeared like that," Cedric said with a small smile. When Dion smiled, he added, "Have you finally grown some man balls?"

Dion let out a short, tired laugh. He wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned his head back against the wall of the training hall. Cedric too leaned his head back after letting out a dry laugh, and for a moment they just sat in silence while the distant sounds of other cadets filled the air.

Then Cedric asked, "Is the reason you are brooding something to do with the raid of King’s Paradise?"

Dion did not reply but his smile slowly disappeared. He stared at the scuffed stone floor as if the answer was written in the soot.

"Ah," Cedric muttered, his voice dropping an octave as he read the silence. "So it is."

It was quiet between them again. Dion then winced and scratched his long white hair as if he wanted to talk about it, but at the same time did not.

Seeing that, Cedric sighed. Then he reached out and tapped Dion’s shoulder. "Come on, I see you training every day and night like you have got a personal vendetta with the gods. Have a little faith in yourself, man, and stop worrying too much."

Dion smiled, then it faded again. After a few moments, he exhaled hard then looked to Cedric and confessed with a voice that lacked its usual humor. "You are lucky, you know?"

Cedric arched a brow but remained silent.

Dion continued. "You are the son of a baron, just like me, yet for some reason I do not understand, you seem to have really powerful abilities. The kind meant for the higher nobles."

He looked away then sighed deeply. "I get jealous of you sometimes. I am from a baronial family too, yet my ability just lets me pull things close and push things far. Most times I feel like I am really falling behind. Behind you, behind everyone. I feel saddened whenever I remember that there may never come a time when you may need help and the first person you think to call would be me."