The Anomaly's Path

The command tent was larger than I expected.

Canvas walls stretched high above, held in place by thick wooden poles. A long table sat in the center, covered in maps and reports and small wooden pieces that marked troop movements. Oil lamps hung from the ceiling, casting warm light across the room.

Seraphina sat behind the table. Her black hair was pulled back from her face, and her blue eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

Beside her, leaning against a stack of crates, was Cassian Valerion. He was tossing a small mana-crystal into the air, his golden-blue eyes tracking me with the lazy curiosity of a predator that had already eaten.

"Sit down," Seraphina said.

I sat on the chair. It was hard and uncomfortable. I did not complain.

"Name," Seraphina said.

"Leo."

"Just Leo?" Cassian chimed in, his voice light but his eyes sharp. "No house name? No lineage for the boy who crawled out of a Grade 7 slaughter?"

It was not like I could tell them, Hello there, my name is Leo von Celestial. A half-brained being wanted to screw me over, so he first reincarnated me and then put me in a trial. Oh, and I am from the far future, which means you are my ancestors.

The look they would give me, I could not describe. So I simply repeated, "Just Leo."

Seraphina finally looked up. Her blue eyes were cold. She reached into a drawer and placed two objects on the desk.

Clack!

My heart stopped.

A sword and a silver locket. The chain was torn, the surface caked in dried, dark blood.

They were Roran’s sword and locket.

"We found these things while we were searching," Seraphina said. "They were near a man whose head was cut off and whose body was in a very bad state. We found his head some distance away from his body. Who was he?"

"...My master," I whispered, my fingers hovering over the cold silver of the locket. "His name was Roran."

"He seems like a strong person," she said, her voice devoid of pity. She gave me some time to adjust, then she spoke. "Now, tell me some things. You were the only survivor. Do you understand how strange that is? Everyone else in that village is dead. Men, women, and children. All of them. And you walked away with a few scratches."

I did not answer.

"We found bodies with claw marks. Some bodies with bite marks that looked like they had been torn apart by animals."

She paused.

"...And we found bodies with clean cuts. They looked like sword wounds. Precise and efficient. Monsters did not kill everyone in the village. Some people did. Demonic people, according to the reports you gave my knights."

"...Yes. You are right."

"Tell me what exactly happened."

I took a breath.

"We were celebrating the festival," I said. "The whole village. Lanterns, music, food. Everyone was happy. And then the monsters came."

I took another breath. The air tasted of old parchment and copper.

I told them about the festival, the screams, and the demonic humans. I told them about the harvest—how they did not just want to kill; they wanted to take. I spoke of Mia, though I kept her specific ability vague. I did not want to reveal her true powers, but I did give them a warning that her power in the wrong hands was a death sentence for the Empire.

"Someone leaked the info," I said, my jaw tight. "Those people knew Mia was there. The one who leaked Mia’s power knew about her ability, and only a few people know her powers."

Seraphina looked at me for a moment. "Do you have a guess who could do that? Who could reveal her information?"

"I have a suspicion who did it, but I need to dig deeper. But... I hope I am wrong. I need more information about that person."

She nodded.

"Did you find anything else suspicious?" Cassian asked, catching the crystal mid-air. "From what we know, your master killed a Grade 7 monster. I do not think there would be a person stronger than your master who could kill a Grandmaster rank person. Does that mean there was someone else too who was stronger than your master?"

Damn him. They were truly Royal Knights for a reason. But I was not sure how much I should reveal about her.

Morana.

That bitch. I did not know that it was her.

She is one of the seven generals of the Abyss King, and according to the War of Faith era lore, she came here to hide and heal her soul.

But I never thought that I would encounter her here. Even if she was injured, she was still one of the Abyss generals, and each one of them has very strange powers directly bestowed by the Abyss King.

I did not know much about her other than some of her powers. Besides, she was not alive anymore in the present era. She was killed at the end of the era, and the one who killed her... I looked at Seraphina.

She tilted her head. "...What?"

I shook my head. "You are right. There was also a person who is far stronger than anyone. Her name is Morana, and she is one of the strongest higher-rank demons. Her power is the Seed of Obsession. She plants a thought deep in a person’s mind. A desire and need. A hunger that cannot be satisfied. It grows slowly over time, twisting the host from the inside."

A pause.

"They do not even know it is happening. They think the thoughts are their own. They think the desires are their own. And once the seed takes root, there is no removing it. She can turn anyone into her puppet without them ever realizing it."

Cassian’s face went pale. Seraphina’s eyes narrowed.

"How do you know about her powers?" Cassian asked.

"My master told me about her power before he died," I lied. It was a thin lie, and I saw the flicker of disbelief in Seraphina’s eyes, but she did not push.

She nodded. "...Understood. We will be careful about her."

Then her expression turned serious. "I also have to tell you something. From the things you have told us, the most likely case is that it is related to Doctor Voss. He is the one who experiments on kids."

"Doctor Voss? I remember Kael saying something about this Voss guy. He said that Voss wanted the kids."

Cassian exchanged a glance with Seraphina. "Voss is a ghost," Cassian said. "We have been hunting him for years. Every time we get close, he disappears. He moves to a new location and changes his methods."

"But now we have a lead," Seraphina said. "If the demons took them to Voss, then Voss is no longer hiding. He is preparing for something. Cassian and I got a mission to hunt Voss, and we are leaving this place in two days."

I gripped the locket until the metal bit into my palm. I had thought about it a lot before coming here, and I knew that what I was going to do felt pathetic, but I did not really have a choice. Every time I climbed higher, I saw a huge mountain that felt like a wall I could never cross.

I felt weak, and I did not want to waste time anymore. Even if I got a little opportunity, I did not want to waste it. And besides, learning from my ancestor felt like a good opportunity, did it not? I could make my lightning affinity better.

So I looked at her and said, "Teach me. You are a Celestial, right? You use the lightning affinity. I have it... but I cannot control it. I am pathetic, but I want my affinity to become stronger. Very strong."

Seraphina gave me a long look, and then she stood up. Her presence doubled, a cold pressure that forced me to brace my legs. She did not offer a hand or a kind word. She just walked toward the door.

"...Follow me."

She led me to a stone structure at the edge of the camp. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies and terror. Seven prisoners were chained to the walls. Some were old, some were young, all were broken.

Seraphina walked to a table against the far wall. She picked up a knife. The blade was short and sharp, the handle wrapped in worn leather. She turned to face me.

"These prisoners," she said, "are criminals, murderers, and human traffickers. They have killed innocent people. They have destroyed families. They have done things that would make your nightmares look gentle."

She held the knife out to me.

"Kill them."

I stared at her. "...What?"

"Kill them," she said again. "If you want me to teach you, if you want to come with us, you need to prove that you are not weak. You need to prove that you can do what is necessary."

"They are... they are chained," I stammered, looking at an old man in the corner who was weeping. "They cannot fight back. Besides... I have never killed a human."

"This is your chance to kill them. Do you think the demons will wait for you to be ready?" Seraphina snarled, grabbing my collar and slamming me against the bars of the first cage.

"The old man you are pitying sold his own neighbors to slavers for silver. The girl in the corner poisoned and killed more men and women than you can count. The guy over there? He raped many girls and then sold off their organs. They are human filth, Leo. You will find people like them everywhere in the world. They hide behind tears and weak bones, but they are the reason the world rots."

"..."

"Humans are just like that," she continued, her voice cold and steady. "They are weak and pathetic. A race that preys on its own kind. They smile in your face and stab you in the back. They cry when they get caught, not when they do wrong. They will beg for mercy they never gave. They will pray for salvation they do not deserve."

She took a breath, or what looked like a sigh. "This is the truth about humans, Leo. We are not born good. We are born selfish. We learn kindness, but cruelty comes naturally. We have to be taught to share, to care, to love. But greed? Jealousy? Hatred? Those come free."

Her eyes bored into mine.

"Every human has a shadow inside them. A dark version of themselves that whispers in their ear. It tells them to take what they want, to hurt those who wronged them, to look away when others suffer. Most people spend their whole lives fighting that shadow. Some lose. Some embrace it. Some pretend it does not exist while it eats them from the inside."

She grabbed my chin and forced me to look at the cages.

"Look at them. These are not monsters from the Abyss. These are not demons or creatures of nightmare. They are humans. Just like you and me. They were born, they grew up, they made choices. And every choice brought them here."

She let go of my chin. "Do not ever make the mistake of thinking humans are inherently good. We are capable of great kindness, yes. But we are also capable of horrors that would make demons look like saints. The difference is choice. Every day, every moment, every breath—you choose. To be better or to be worse. To fight the shadow or to let it win."

She shoved me toward the weeping man.

"The demonic humans you saw were once people like this. They were also human once, but their choices were different. If you cannot kill a man who deserves it, you will never have the stomach to kill the monsters who do not. I do not train dead weight. If you cannot cross this line, stay in the ruins and die like your master."

She turned and walked out. Cassian lingered for a second, his expression unreadable, before following her.

I stood alone with the knife. The old man looked up, his face a mask of fake innocence. "Please, lad... I have a family..."

I did not know what to do. I was not that stupid. I knew I had to kill humans, and the faster I learned and accepted that fact, the better it would be for me. But as a person who came from Earth, where killing a human was a crime, it still felt strange.

I still had not truly let go of my old self.

Somewhere in between, I was still the same old person. The guy who used to play games and hide behind things and run away. How long would those things continue? Did I not want to become stronger? Did I not have people to save?

No.

Who was I even lying to?

The main reason I did not want to accept was that I wanted to become stronger to... survive.

I clenched my jaw and looked at the old man. He was still begging, his face down, his shoulders shaking with practiced sobs.

But I could read his face like an open book now. The way his eyes flickered to the side when he thought no one was watching. The way his crying stopped for just a second between breaths. The way his hands trembled, not from fear, but from something else.

Rage, maybe. Or impatience.

He would do the same thing again. If I let him go, he would go right back to selling people. He would beg for his life now and then continue his crimes tomorrow, thinking no one cared. Thinking he got away with it.

But did killing them have to be the only answer?

"Old man," I said. "Look at me."

He did.

"I am not going to kill you," I said. "But I need you to answer me honestly. Did you really sell off your neighbors? Your own neighbors? People who trusted you?"

The old man opened his mouth, then closed it.

"...Yes," he whispered. "I did that."

"Why? Why did you do that?"

He was silent for a long moment. Then his face changed. The tears stopped. The trembling stopped. His eyes went cold.

"Because they had what I did not," he said. "A good wife. Healthy children. A warm home. And I had nothing. Nothing but debts and a body that was falling apart. So when the slavers came, they offered me silver. A lot of silver. Enough to start over."

He laughed. It was a dry, ugly sound.

"All I had to do was look the other way. That is all. Just... look the other way. So I did. And then they asked for more. A name here, an address there. It was easy after the first time. The guilt faded soon. The silver felt good. And soon, I was not just looking the other way. I was helping them. Pointing out which houses had young girls. Which families had no one to protect them."

He looked at me with empty eyes. "You want to know if I regret it? I regret getting caught. That is all."

I stared at him. The confession was cold. Calculated. There was no shame in his voice. No guilt. Just the bitter resentment of a man who thought the world owed him something.

"...Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "You could have lied. You could have begged. You could have said anything to make me spare you."

The old man smiled. It was a terrible smile.

"Because I saw your face when you looked at me. You are not a killer. You came in here thinking we were victims. Thinking we were like you. But we are not. We are what happens when people stop caring. When they decide that their survival matters more than anyone else’s."

He leaned forward a little. "Go ahead and judge me. Hate me all you want. But do not pretend you are better than me. You are here, are you not? Holding a sword to make a living? You are not an angel. You are just someone who has not had to make the choice yet. You are just like us... a killer. But people will judge us when we kill, and they will not judge you when you kill. That is the difference between us."

He suddenly started laughing. "Haha, but so what? In the end, all of us are doing this just to... survive."

I felt something cold settle in my chest.

He was right. I was not better than him. Maybe I would never be. But I was not like him. It was true that I wanted to survive, but I also wanted to protect.

"...I am sorry," I whispered. "But you chose this. And now, so do I."

He smiled, but it was a dark smile that did not reach his eyes. "Go ahead and kill me. But remember my words. One day, this path will also take you to ruin. There will be a time when you will have to make a choice, and I am sure that time you will realize what I am feeling right now. Make sure you do not regret it."

My jaw clenched. My hand gripped the knife tighter. "...Do not worry. I am not going to regret it."

I brought the knife down. His head rolled and dropped on the floor. I instantly felt something churn inside my stomach, and I tried to puke, but I only dry-heaved.

The remaining people’s eyes widened. "I am sorry," I said. "But... this is what I chose."

I closed my eyes and moved to the next.

By the time I reached the girl who had poisoned the well, my hands were warm and slick. She looked at me with eyes that were already dead. "Make it fast," she muttered.

"...I will," I said.

The last scream cut off abruptly.

I walked out of the prison ten minutes later. Each step felt heavy, but this was the path I chose, and I did not want to regret it.

I looked down at my hands—they were stained crimson up to the wrists. I felt hollowed out, like someone had reached inside me and scooped out the last bit of the boy from Earth.

Seraphina and Cassian were waiting by the fence. I walked up to her, my face a blank, blood-spattered mask. I held out the knife, hilt-first.

"...I am coming with you," I said. My voice was different now.

Seraphina took the knife, her eyes scanning my face for a flicker of regret. She found none.

"Pack your things," she said. "We leave at dawn."

I walked past them without another word. I did not head for the infirmary. I headed for the washbasin to scrub the red from my nails, but I knew, as I looked at the white streaks in my hair, that some stains never wash off.

Wait for me, Mia, I thought. I am coming.