Chapter 14 – Happiness through pain
Once again, Keyaruga slept while hugging Freia. But even the warmth of the girl’s body wouldn’t save him from shivering. Once again, the boy stood among the accursed scum with no right to call themselves humans, let alone heroes. He barely moved his legs, as if Keyaru was a doll in the hands of a rookie puppeteer. He was unable to think and couldn’t resist. His mind was fractured, but even among them, the feeble flame remained. A small spark, too stubborn to just fizzle out in the dark. It wished them death, it wished to be free. This shard was all that remained of a human’s soul. Every day it grew larger and bolder, until finally it erupted as a bright blaze, incinerating the narcotic veil. Keyaru’s body finally stood up, forever condemning any poisons or drugs. And his first words were:
"I… who am I?"
Oblivion was closing in, and the next moment, an agonizing realization slammed into the young man’s consciousness. All the people he was forced to heal; all the days on a cruel drug; all the humiliations and harassment they caused him. But there was much more. The boy remembered the things he could never imagine, let alone live for himself. Some memories were short, some were long, some were just emotional responses, and some were encyclopedias on their own. Nobody could handle this much, not a peasant, not a warrior, not even a hero. The Hero of Healing was ready to break. His screams of pain wouldn’t even be distinguished from withdrawals. But within these endless visions was something else: experience. Memories of thousands of battles from hundreds of perspectives. Keyaru felt their fear and courage. Victories and crumbling defeats. The suffering of the wounded, many of whom have lost their blood and limbs. The boy couldn’t help but cry. For them, for himself. He had lost everything just because of the woman that marched ahead of him, leaning on the divine weapon Vanargand as if it was a simple walking staff. He wished to scream, to run toward Flare and kill her with everything he had. Which… wasn’t much at the moment. The last thing he wanted was to have those bastards know about his awakening. And the escape route was so close. Just stick out the tongue and close the jaw…
"How dare they? How could they do such a thing to me? Why did YOU betray me?" Dozens of questions wouldn’t let go of Keyaru’s mind, as he tried to answer at least some of them. It all started with Kureha Cryleth and her hands, when the boy tried to flee. "By the way, what happened to her? Oh, she has died in the battle for Kinacrith…" Then, the guards caught him and… What happened then? Did they throw him into the dungeon at once, or was it the tea with sleeping potion first? It all blended into a mess of memories, but the collar, drugs, and severe beating were genuine. And he only needed a single day…
"How can they be this way? Bullet, Flare, and Blade! They are monsters! They are worse than monsters, for even they don’t do such things with their brethren! Fucking hellspawns! Die, all of you! DIE, YOU FUCKERS!" Time after time, Keyaru cursed his torturers, but not a single word left his mouth. Only pitiful wailing. It took hours and serious magic brain treatment to even start thinking clearly. Keyaru was just too weak to handle these abhorrent abominations on his own. He saw them kill hundreds with his own eyes.
Dozens of options were discarded before, finally, the healer saw a clear image of a soldier impaling his foe. Or a knight breaking the enemy’s ranks with his lance. Different stances, attacks, parries, grabs, and counterattacks. Keyaru felt as if he had mastered everything: sword, bow, crossbow, spear, dagger, saber, catapult, cannon and magic spells. Every man or woman he healed left a part of themselves in the boy. The lad doubted he could use it all, but still, he had options to prevail.
At last, when Flare and others were too busy discussing a raid on another demonic war camp, Keyaru voiced the incantation:
"I… Ignis…" In that very moment, a small spark revealed itself. Quite possibly, the very same thing that dragged him out of the void. As for memories, they just kept flowing. And eventually, the young man saw the true goal of this hellish journey — the philosopher’s stone, the heart of the demon king. Should Keyaru wish so, he could’ve easily played around his "companions’" weaknesses, but a single thought of having them do all the dirty work and taking the ultimate fruit of their labor to himself stopped the martyr. All mistakes shall be unmade by a single thing. And then…
Flare would be humiliated and broken, turned into a helpless dog, just as she had done with Keyaru; he would reduce her to a simple whore, trading her hole in some filthy inn. That woman-loving psycho he would definitely destroy, rape, and stomp to nothing in front of the eyes of her beloved princess. And the Bullet would be castrated, his limbs severed, his tongue ripped out, and his face smashed, and the insane priest (oh yes, this child murderer had an entire church of Eldoran filled with boys) would be released in this manner. With a morgenstern in his anus. Although, even that could barely let him understand all the pain he caused to countless kids. The Hero of Healing found these thoughts quite amusing. They gave him… hope. Even if only for a brutal vengeance.
"Power… I need power. To revert time, to… To be happy." — the martyr whispered. He wanted happiness. Nobody deserved it more than that mangled orphan. Although he could easily deal with the "heroes", their deaths wouldn’t undo their crimes, and Jioral would never let Keyaru live. No, he had to endure, to persevere while gathering force for the critical moment in the future.For that one moment when he would personally rip the heart of a demonic monarch from their chest. Even if that means the torture continues.
It’d been a whole year of harassment and humiliation. Keyaru almost stopped feeling pain, but it never made things easier. During their many encampments, the lad would hunt monsters to eat and get a bit stronger every time. Initially, the healer used everything he could find in the woods, and all the experience and levels he gathered really helped, but after many trials and errors, the lad found the limits of his own power. Not only could it save lives, it was also capable of taking them with a simple touch. It took Keyaru an unimaginable amount of self-restraint to not use it on his "friends" immediately. After all, he never expected to be stronger than the demon queen. And how shocked he was to see not a big-horned fiend but a stunning winged girl with silver hair. At last, she charred Bullet. Her shadows ripped Blade apart, and Flare was stunned. Keyaru was no longer a defenseless boy, but a powerful man with just one step to reach his goal. And so he did. The healer rushed forward towards his happiness.
Once again, Keyaruga woke up in a cold sweat, although this time he didn’t scream. The first thing he saw was the blissful face of his charming toy, Freia. The hero wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t wish to harm her more than he already did. After all, that night the lad could refrain from healing her from a mortal wound, toss away her paralyzed body just about anywhere, sell her somewhere in Ranalitta, or wreck her nerves so much that every breath would be a hellish ordeal. But no, Keyaru…ga left her at his side. She deserved more. The princess would destroy her own kingdom. She would commit so many sins against it that it would drive her insane once she regained her memories. But… This would be somewhere in the distant future. And now Keyaruga woke up his companion by softly rubbing her cheek. He was happy. Even if the hero just wanted to think that he was.
"Wake up, Freia. Great deeds await us."
Chapter 14 – Happiness through pain
Once again, Keyaruga slept while hugging Freia. But even the warmth of the girl’s body wouldn’t save him from shivering. Once again, the boy stood among the accursed scum with no right to call themselves humans, let alone heroes. He barely moved his legs, as if Keyaru was a doll in the hands of a rookie puppeteer. He was unable to think and couldn’t resist. His mind was fractured, but even among them, the feeble flame remained. A small spark, too stubborn to just fizzle out in the dark. It wished them death, it wished to be free. This shard was all that remained of a human’s soul. Every day it grew larger and bolder, until finally it erupted as a bright blaze, incinerating the narcotic veil. Keyaru’s body finally stood up, forever condemning any poisons or drugs. And his first words were:
"I… who am I?"
Oblivion was closing in, and the next moment, an agonizing realization slammed into the young man’s consciousness. All the people he was forced to heal; all the days on a cruel drug; all the humiliations and harassment they caused him. But there was much more. The boy remembered the things he could never imagine, let alone live for himself. Some memories were short, some were long, some were just emotional responses, and some were encyclopedias on their own. Nobody could handle this much, not a peasant, not a warrior, not even a hero. The Hero of Healing was ready to break. His screams of pain wouldn’t even be distinguished from withdrawals. But within these endless visions was something else: experience. Memories of thousands of battles from hundreds of perspectives. Keyaru felt their fear and courage. Victories and crumbling defeats. The suffering of the wounded, many of whom have lost their blood and limbs. The boy couldn’t help but cry. For them, for himself. He had lost everything just because of the woman that marched ahead of him, leaning on the divine weapon Vanargand as if it was a simple walking staff. He wished to scream, to run toward Flare and kill her with everything he had. Which… wasn’t much at the moment. The last thing he wanted was to have those bastards know about his awakening. And the escape route was so close. Just stick out the tongue and close the jaw…
"How dare they? How could they do such a thing to me? Why did YOU betray me?" Dozens of questions wouldn’t let go of Keyaru’s mind, as he tried to answer at least some of them. It all started with Kureha Cryleth and her hands, when the boy tried to flee. "By the way, what happened to her? Oh, she has died in the battle for Kinacrith…" Then, the guards caught him and… What happened then? Did they throw him into the dungeon at once, or was it the tea with sleeping potion first? It all blended into a mess of memories, but the collar, drugs, and severe beating were genuine. And he only needed a single day…
"How can they be this way? Bullet, Flare, and Blade! They are monsters! They are worse than monsters, for even they don’t do such things with their brethren! Fucking hellspawns! Die, all of you! DIE, YOU FUCKERS!" Time after time, Keyaru cursed his torturers, but not a single word left his mouth. Only pitiful wailing. It took hours and serious magic brain treatment to even start thinking clearly. Keyaru was just too weak to handle these abhorrent abominations on his own. He saw them kill hundreds with his own eyes.
Dozens of options were discarded before, finally, the healer saw a clear image of a soldier impaling his foe. Or a knight breaking the enemy’s ranks with his lance. Different stances, attacks, parries, grabs, and counterattacks. Keyaru felt as if he had mastered everything: sword, bow, crossbow, spear, dagger, saber, catapult, cannon and magic spells. Every man or woman he healed left a part of themselves in the boy. The lad doubted he could use it all, but still, he had options to prevail.
At last, when Flare and others were too busy discussing a raid on another demonic war camp, Keyaru voiced the incantation:
"I… Ignis…" In that very moment, a small spark revealed itself. Quite possibly, the very same thing that dragged him out of the void. As for memories, they just kept flowing. And eventually, the young man saw the true goal of this hellish journey — the philosopher’s stone, the heart of the demon king. Should Keyaru wish so, he could’ve easily played around his "companions’" weaknesses, but a single thought of having them do all the dirty work and taking the ultimate fruit of their labor to himself stopped the martyr. All mistakes shall be unmade by a single thing. And then…
Flare would be humiliated and broken, turned into a helpless dog, just as she had done with Keyaru; he would reduce her to a simple whore, trading her hole in some filthy inn. That woman-loving psycho he would definitely destroy, rape, and stomp to nothing in front of the eyes of her beloved princess. And the Bullet would be castrated, his limbs severed, his tongue ripped out, and his face smashed, and the insane priest (oh yes, this child murderer had an entire church of Eldoran filled with boys) would be released in this manner. With a morgenstern in his anus. Although, even that could barely let him understand all the pain he caused to countless kids. The Hero of Healing found these thoughts quite amusing. They gave him… hope. Even if only for a brutal vengeance.
"Power… I need power. To revert time, to… To be happy." — the martyr whispered. He wanted happiness. Nobody deserved it more than that mangled orphan. Although he could easily deal with the "heroes", their deaths wouldn’t undo their crimes, and Jioral would never let Keyaru live. No, he had to endure, to persevere while gathering force for the critical moment in the future.For that one moment when he would personally rip the heart of a demonic monarch from their chest. Even if that means the torture continues.
It’d been a whole year of harassment and humiliation. Keyaru almost stopped feeling pain, but it never made things easier. During their many encampments, the lad would hunt monsters to eat and get a bit stronger every time. Initially, the healer used everything he could find in the woods, and all the experience and levels he gathered really helped, but after many trials and errors, the lad found the limits of his own power. Not only could it save lives, it was also capable of taking them with a simple touch. It took Keyaru an unimaginable amount of self-restraint to not use it on his "friends" immediately. After all, he never expected to be stronger than the demon queen. And how shocked he was to see not a big-horned fiend but a stunning winged girl with silver hair. At last, she charred Bullet. Her shadows ripped Blade apart, and Flare was stunned. Keyaru was no longer a defenseless boy, but a powerful man with just one step to reach his goal. And so he did. The healer rushed forward towards his happiness.
Once again, Keyaruga woke up in a cold sweat, although this time he didn’t scream. The first thing he saw was the blissful face of his charming toy, Freia. The hero wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t wish to harm her more than he already did. After all, that night the lad could refrain from healing her from a mortal wound, toss away her paralyzed body just about anywhere, sell her somewhere in Ranalitta, or wreck her nerves so much that every breath would be a hellish ordeal. But no, Keyaru…ga left her at his side. She deserved more. The princess would destroy her own kingdom. She would commit so many sins against it that it would drive her insane once she regained her memories. But… This would be somewhere in the distant future. And now Keyaruga woke up his companion by softly rubbing her cheek. He was happy. Even if the hero just wanted to think that he was.
"Wake up, Freia. Great deeds await us."
