CHAPTER 13

“Out of the way! Wagon coming through!”

It was a cargo wagon loaded with cabbages.

As it passed by me, the wagon suddenly shattered into pieces and turned black—as if it had rotted and crumbled. All the buildings and stalls nearby began collapsing, as if an earthquake had hit.

Boom!

Everything was on fire.

Whoosh!

And then everything began to rot and fall apart into black ash.

Men wearing masks released colored smoke that blanketed the entire street in poisonous fog. Then horribly swollen poison-infected creatures sprang out from all directions and began massacring people.

• “Aaaah!”
• “Help! Somebody help!”
• “Cough! Cough! Guh…”

People trying to run fell to the ground, coughing up blood.

But I couldn’t do anything.

Because this was an illusion.

What I was seeing… was the future. I didn’t know the exact date, but I felt it wasn’t too far off. Maybe two years? Or even just one? The city would be attacked and completely destroyed.

And this attack was just the beginning.

The vision continued. Bigger attacks followed. In the end, total destruction came.

It was the death of a city.

One wave of destruction followed another, like a chain reaction, until Bryce was no more.

What kind of horrible future was this?

I bit my lip. The city was like a tangled knot, spiraling toward a future full of death.

“Ugh…”

My stomach churned from the overwhelming visions.

I thought I had grown used to death—but that was a lie. I still couldn’t stay calm in front of it.

Tens of thousands.

No—hundreds of thousands of people die.

One disaster after another, every year.

And the final wave that swallows them all… it was overwhelming.

The thousands of soldiers guarding the city, the heroic warriors of the Sword King’s House—none of them could stop it.

Could this really be stopped?

Who could possibly do it?

The enemy was powerful. Even though their factions were divided, just one faction alone was enough to wipe out the Sword King’s forces.

They didn’t just destroy the city. They competed with each other to destroy it faster.

And then… once the city lay in ruins, they began fighting amongst themselves.

“Wow…”

What the hell were they doing?

It was a civil war between those who carried the banner of the Poison King. In that hellish future, the Sword King’s forces didn’t even play a role.

Then, a man appeared.

He looked around twenty years old.

With a blank expression, he started destroying everything.

Friend or foe—he didn’t care.

And then… he came for me.

I had thrown everything away to gain power and became something hideous. I charged at him—but I couldn’t win.

“So, the day has come at last.”

The steps were blurry, but the result was clear. He smiled as he crushed me underfoot.

“I’ve been waiting for this, Ray.”

“Ugh!”

I forced my eyes shut and escaped the illusion.

Was that really the future?

No. It couldn’t be set in stone. If the future were already decided, I would’ve died back in that poison cave.

So this must just be one of many possibilities—a highly likely one, but still just a possibility.

I could run. I could flee to the far south, and the future I saw would never come true.

But—

I can’t leave this city.

If I run now, the future I want will vanish too. To get revenge on the Poison King Cult, I must first graduate safely from the academy.

But a few years from now, the city that houses the academy will be destroyed.

And if I’m here—I’ll die too.

A paradox.

Different futures are twisted together like fate within this one city.

And among all possible futures, one always takes priority. For now, the future where the city falls and I die seems far more likely than the one where I succeed in getting revenge.

What should I do to change the future?

I don’t know.

All I saw were possibilities and outcomes. If the power to show me the future exists, couldn’t it at least show me how to change it?

How can I even see the future?

That, too, I don’t know.

Maybe something that happened inside that poison den triggered it. The word “Heaven’s Pulse” vaguely echoes in my mind—maybe that’s related…

“Hey! You there!”

“…Yes?”

“You okay? You looked like you were swaying. Want a ride home?”

It was the driver of the cabbage wagon that had just passed by me. I clearly remembered him being torn apart by poison… but wait—that was a vision.

This is reality. He had just seen me standing in the street and stopped his wagon.

“I’m fine. But thank you for your kindness.”

“Yeah? You sure you’re not sick or something?”

“No, really. I get like this sometimes.”

“A chronic illness? Then you should be more careful. Take care—and walk to the side, okay?”

“To the side?”

“Don’t walk in the middle of the street unless you want to get run over. Take care!”

The driver waved and rode off. I sighed and stepped off to the side of the road.

Lesson one in Bryce: don’t walk in the middle of the street.

Now then… who was the man who killed me in that vision?

A warrior from the Poison King’s house?

Or a new Poison King?

Maybe… a traitor from the Sword King’s house? His power looked like aura, even though it was hazy.

“I… this makes no sense. Poison and aura are opposites. If they touch, they cancel each other out. So how can you…?”

“You mean, why don’t they cancel out?”

The boy made his aura surge even stronger. Then he wrapped his aura in the deadly life-poison like a decoration.

“No way…”

“Do you know how magnets work? Opposites attract, and likes repel. Same concept.”

“…What?”

“If you match the polarity of poison and aura, they repel instead of touch. If they don’t touch, they don’t cancel out. That’s how they coexist.”

“Are you serious? If that were possible—”

Suddenly, Galbray’s body flew backward.

“Guh!”

He couldn’t even react. The boy soared like a bird and rammed into his chest.

A headbutt.

A spiral of energy spun around his body at high speed. Maybe that spin was what gave him such incredible momentum.

“Damn.”

The boy landed and rubbed his head with a grimace.

“I didn’t mean to headbutt you… This technique is trickier than I thought. Might take a while to perfect.”

He hadn’t expected to be this fast. The boy smiled toward Galbray, who was crouching far away.

“You were right. Evolution is necessary.”

“Grr… ugh…”

“Galbray, 9th Poison King. You were impressive—but not worthy of the title. Step down.”

“Shut up…”

“The duel is over. I win. Refuse to accept it, and you die.”

“Die? Ha! Bring it on! Ptooey!”

Galbray spat blood and gritted his teeth. Two forces swirled around the boy’s body and rushed toward Galbray like a spiral.

“As you wish.”

Just then—

CRASH!

The ceiling exploded. Two massive figures fell down.

They were puppets. Finely crafted mechanical puppets raised their shields and blocked the spiraling energy head-on.

A loud blast shook the hall.

But that was it. The puppets, their shields—and even Galbray, still crouching behind—were completely unharmed.

“…What are those?”

The boy stared at the puppets.

“Puppets… such precise craftsmanship. So the Lariant family finally succeeded.”

“Lariant?”

“Yes. They’ve been obsessed with building puppet soldiers.”

“How old are you, to bring them up now? You think only their family made puppets?”

Galbray stood up, peeking between the puppets.

“All the noble houses now use puppets. These two are special models.”

“Horrible. Poison beasts and ghouls weren’t enough? I hoped puppet tech had failed…”

The boy frowned.

Puppets were powered by humans inside.

But they were no longer human.

They were nothing more than components, stripped of will and used like machines.