CHAPTER FIFTY SIX: SHATTERED PERCEPTION

I was discharged from the academy clinic after a week, but the struggle had only just begun.

Since then, I'd been in and out of that place so many times that even the nurses stopped looking surprised when I stumbled back through the doors, battered and exhausted. Failure had become my shadow, following me relentlessly. No matter how many times I tried, no matter how hard I pushed myself, the result was always the same.

The Death Scythe refused to bend to my will.

At first, I treated it like any other weapon. Like my daggers, my fists—an extension of myself, something I could control. But the more I tried to wield it like a mere tool, the more it resisted me. It was like trying to carve through stone with a dull blade; no matter how much force I applied, the Scythe remained unmoved, watching, waiting, letting me fail.

Again and again.

Every time I entered that space—where the ghouls rose from the darkness and clawed at me, tearing into my flesh—I tried to fight my way through. My strategy never changed. Attack first. Overpower them. Dominate the battlefield. But each time, the Death Scythe refused to respond the way I wanted. The ghouls would surround me, and though I swung with all my strength, they would only dissolve and reform again. Unkillable. Mocking me.

The pain was real. Too real.

The wounds I took in that space followed me back to reality, leaving scars that the academy's healers could only partially mend. My body was weakening. The exhaustion dug into my bones, dragging me down with every step.

And yet, I kept going back.

Because I refused to lose.

Because I refused to believe that Seth had given me something I couldn't wield.

But with every failure, doubt sank its claws into me, deeper and deeper.

For the first time in my life, I found myself wondering—What if I can't do this?

The thought disgusted me.

I wasn't weak. I wasn't some amateur struggling to hold a weapon for the first time. I was strong. I had trained my entire life to survive, to win, to dominate. And yet, no matter how much I trained, no matter how much blood I spilled, the Death Scythe refused to kneel.

What was I doing wrong?

The Scythe had shown me its past, its memories—how it was created by Alphonso Remmick, the first Guardian. How it had been passed down from one Guardian to the next, a weapon only meant for those strong enough to wield it. I had seen the moments it bonded with its past wielders, how it moved with them effortlessly, like a part of their very souls.

But with me, it was different.

It wasn't moving with me.

It wasn't accepting me.

It was tolerating me.

I could hear the words of my other self—the version of me the Scythe had taken form as—mocking me. You are beneath me. You are incapable of standing in my presence.

And the worst part?

He was right.

No matter how much I fought, I wasn't winning. I was just swinging blindly, trying to force my will onto something that refused to listen.

I hated this.

I hated feeling like I wasn't enough.

And more than anything, I hated him.

Seth.

He did this. He was the reason I was here, struggling like this, pushing myself to the brink with nothing to show for it.

He was the one who convinced the Death Scythe to allow me to wield it.

He was the one who set this burden on my shoulders.

And now he was gone, leaving me to deal with it alone.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

What the hell was he thinking?

What part of him believed that I was the right person for this?

He had a daughter—someone who was raised in the Shadow Realm, someone who understood their ways better than I ever could. Why not give it to her? Why put this responsibility on me?

My breathing was heavy. I could feel the heat of my frustration burning in my chest, but I had no way to release it.

Seth had always been a mystery to me. A man who smiled even in the face of death, a warrior who never let the weight of his title break him. He had been strong, so much stronger than I could ever admit.

But now, for the first time, I wondered if he had been wrong.

Had he made a mistake?

Had he expected too much from me?

I wanted to believe that I could do this. That I could bond with the Death Scythe, make it mine, wield it the way he once did.

But with every failure, that belief cracked just a little more.

Was it even possible?

Or was I fighting a battle I could never win?

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head.

No.

I couldn't think like that.

I would make the Death Scythe kneel.

I just had to figure out how.

And I would.

No matter how many times I failed.

No matter how much it hurt.

I would find a way.

Because I am Liam Remmick.

And I refused to lose.

I sat alone on the academy's rooftop, the cold night air biting against my skin. The moon hung high above, casting a pale glow over the campus, but I barely noticed. My mind was elsewhere—locked in an endless loop of frustration and unanswered questions.

My fingers curled against the rough rooftop tiles, gripping them tighter than necessary. No matter how many times I replayed everything in my head, the answer never came. The Death Scythe refused to bend to me, and I refused to accept that. But what was I missing?

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair.

The soft creak of a door opening barely registered.

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Nicole.

She hesitated for a moment, probably debating whether she should even be here. I wasn't in the mood for conversation, and she knew that. Hell, everyone knew that. But instead of leaving, she stepped forward, her footsteps light against the rooftop.

She didn't say anything as she lowered herself beside me.

Silence settled between us—not uncomfortable, but heavy. I kept my gaze fixed ahead, lost in my own storm of thoughts.

She was still here.

I wasn't sure why, but she stayed.

And maybe, just maybe, I didn't mind that.

Nicole shifted slightly beside me, her presence quiet yet unwavering. For a while, she didn't speak, just sat there as if waiting for the right moment. Then, finally, she broke the silence.

"I've noticed how brooding you've been lately," she said, her voice soft but certain. "Does it have anything to do with your training?"

I didn't answer. I kept my eyes on the distant horizon, my thoughts too tangled to put into words.

She waited, probably hoping I'd say something, anything. When I didn't, she sighed. "If you don't want me here, I can go."

Again, I said nothing. I only let out a low growl, barely acknowledging her.

She sat there for a few more moments, as if debating whether to push further. Then, with a quiet exhale, she shifted to leave.

"I've tried everything," I muttered suddenly, stopping her in her tracks. My fingers clenched against the rooftop tiles. "But nothing's working."

It was the first admission of my failure, the first time I'd let the words slip past my defenses. And somehow, saying them out loud made the weight on my chest feel even heavier.

Nicole hesitated, her back still turned to me. For a moment, I thought she might just leave, but instead, she slowly sat back down.

"Then maybe you need a new approach," she said.

I let out a bitter scoff. "You think I haven't tried that?"

She didn't flinch at my sharp tone. If anything, she only looked at me with more concern. "I'm not saying I know what you're going through, but maybe you're pushing too hard."

I clenched my fists. "If I don't push, I'll never master it."

Nicole sighed. "Liam, you've been at this for weeks. You've been in and out of the clinic more times than I can count. If brute force worked, you would've already won."

I didn't want to hear it, but she wasn't wrong. I had thrown everything I had at the Death Scythe, and it refused to yield. I trained until my body nearly broke, but nothing changed.

"Then what do you suggest?" I muttered, keeping my eyes on the sky.

She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Maybe… stop trying to force it to kneel."

I turned to her, brows furrowed. "What?"

She shrugged. "I don't know much about your bond with the Scythe, but from what you've said, it sounds like you're treating it like a battle to win. What if it's not about conquering it but understanding it?"

I looked away, grinding my teeth. That wasn't how I grew up. Power was something you seized, something you bent to your will. If I wasn't strong enough to do that, then what was I?

Nicole must've sensed my frustration because she sighed. "Just think about it, okay?"

I didn't respond, and this time, she really did stand up to leave. But before she stepped away, she added, "And Liam… you're not alone in this."

I remained on the rooftop long after she left, her words lingering in my mind. Not alone? She didn't understand.

Because no one could help me with this.

This was my burden alone.

The morning sun streamed through the windows of Helen's office, casting long golden streaks across the polished floor. I stood with my arms crossed, leaning against the wall, my patience wearing thin. Ken sat lazily on the couch, legs spread apart, fingers idly tapping against his knee, while Nicole stood beside him, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Helen, seated behind her desk, took one long look at me before sighing. "Are you sure your body can handle this mission?"

I clenched my jaw. "I'm fine."

Nicole shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting toward me, but she said nothing. Helen studied me for a moment longer before exhaling. "Very well. I'll trust your judgment."

She slid a document across the desk. "Your mission is to locate and retrieve a missing prince."

Ken straightened. "A prince?"

Helen nodded. "His name is Prince Elias of Yorehaven, a small but wealthy kingdom known for its agriculture and fine craftsmanship. Two weeks ago, he was kidnapped by his own Equerry, a man named Dain Rutherfold. The king has put out a discreet request for assistance, fearing that news of the abduction could spark unrest among the nobles."

I frowned. "Why would an Equerry betray his prince?"

Helen leaned back, lacing her fingers together. "From what we've gathered, Dain was not just Elias's Equerry—he was also a trusted family friend. He served the royal family for over a decade, which makes his betrayal all the more unexpected. There are rumors that he was involved in some underground dealings, but nothing concrete. What we do know is that he left no ransom note, no demands. He simply vanished with the prince."

Nicole furrowed her brows. "Do we have any leads?"

Helen nodded. "A merchant traveling from the neighboring town of Briarholt claims to have seen a man matching Dain's description heading toward the eastern mountain pass. If he's hiding there, it'll be a difficult terrain to navigate."

Ken stretched his arms. "Sounds like a pain. But I assume we're to bring the prince back unharmed?"

Helen nodded. "That is your primary objective. If Dain resists, you are authorized to use force, but the king has requested that he be taken alive if possible. He wants answers."

I scoffed. "Figures. A betrayal like this isn't something that happens overnight. The king likely wants to know who else might be involved."

Helen gave me a pointed look but didn't refute my words. "Regardless, your team will leave at dawn. Gather whatever supplies you need and be prepared for a long journey."

Ken stood, rolling his shoulders. "Well, sounds simple enough. Find the prince, deal with the traitor, and get paid. Easy."

Nicole didn't look as convinced. "We don't know what kind of dangers we'll be walking into. If Dain has gone to the mountains, he might have prepared defenses."

"We'll handle it," I said, pushing off the wall. "If that's all, we'll get ready."

Helen didn't stop us as we turned to leave, but as I reached the door, she called out, "Liam."

I turned my head slightly. "What?"

"Don't let your frustration cloud your judgment out there."

I didn't answer. Instead, I stepped out, letting the door close behind me.

The swirling energy of the portal crackled before us, illuminating the dim room with its eerie glow. Just as we prepared to step through, Ken turned to me, his sharp gaze locking onto mine.

"Liam, sit this one out if your body isn't up to it," he said, his voice calm but firm.

I scoffed, rolling my shoulders as if to shake off the exhaustion that still clung to me. "Worry more about yourself, Ken."

Ken didn't budge. "I'm serious. If you're not at a hundred percent, you're going to be a liability. This isn't a game."

I met his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips, but there was no humor in it. "And what? You think you can handle it all on your own?"

Ken's expression didn't change, but I could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. "I think we all have a job to do. But if you can't pull your weight, don't drag us down."

Heat flared in my chest. "You think I'd jeopardize the mission? I don't need you questioning my abilities."

Ken took a step forward, his posture unwavering. "Then prove it. But if I see you slowing us down, I won't hesitate to make the call to leave you behind."

I clenched my fists, the tension between us thick enough to cut. The others shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

Before I could fire back, Nicole stepped between us, placing a hand on my chest. "Enough," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "This isn't helping. We need to focus on the mission."

She turned to Ken. "Liam wouldn't be here if he wasn't ready. He'll pull his weight."

Ken exhaled sharply but didn't argue. He gave me one last look before turning toward the portal. "Let's just get this done."

I didn't say anything, but as I stepped forward, I made sure Ken knew—no matter what, I wasn't backing down.

Ken exhaled sharply, stepping back. "Just don't slow us down," he muttered before adjusting his coat.

I scoffed, rolling my shoulders as I turned toward the portal Helen had conjured. The swirling vortex shimmered with unstable energy, leading to the outskirts of the small kingdom we were being sent to.

Helen cleared her throat, her gaze bouncing between us. "If you two are done measuring egos, you have a mission to complete."

Ken was the first to step through without another word. Nicole hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing at me before following.

I took a final breath before stepping into the unknown, pushing aside my exhaustion and the weight of my failures. This mission was a chance to clear my mind—one way or another.

The moment I stepped through the portal, a sharp chill bit at my skin. We arrived in a dense forest just outside the kingdom's borders. The trees stretched high, their canopies blocking out most of the morning sun, casting the area in eerie dimness.

Ken was already surveying the surroundings, his sharp gaze scanning for any immediate threats. Nicole adjusted the whip on her hip, her expression composed but alert. I forced myself to steady my breathing, pushing past the stiffness in my body.

Helen's briefing echoed in my mind—this was a small kingdom, its royal family insignificant in the grander scheme of things, yet their troubles had reached our academy. A prince, barely ten, kidnapped by his Equerry—a man who had sworn to protect him. It wasn't a simple act of ransom or rebellion. The Equerry, Dain Rutherfold, had been one of the most trusted knights in the kingdom. His betrayal had left the royal court in chaos.

Nicole pulled out a small map. "The last sighting of Dain was near the abandoned hunting lodge north of here. If he's keeping the prince hidden, that's our best lead."

Ken nodded. "Then let's move."

We moved in silence, navigating the uneven terrain. Each step sent dull aches through my body, but I clenched my jaw and pressed forward. My failures with the Death Scythe weren't an excuse to slow down.

After nearly an hour, we reached the outskirts of the lodge. It was a decayed structure, its wooden beams warped with time, the scent of damp earth thick in the air. Ken raised a hand, signaling for us to stop.

"There," he whispered, nodding toward a small flicker of movement near the window.

Nicole unsnapped her whip, her fingers tightening around the handle. "What's the plan?"

Ken glanced at me, as if gauging whether I was sharp enough to contribute. I met his stare, unwavering. "We go in quiet. Secure the prince first. If Dain is still inside, we take him down."

Ken smirked. "For once, we agree."

We split up, each taking a different approach toward the lodge. As I moved, I forced myself to focus—this wasn't training, and there was no room for failure.

The moment I locked eyes with Dain Rutherfold, I felt something shift—like an invisible weight settling over my mind. He smirked, tilting his head slightly, and suddenly, the world around me warped.

I was back in the test. The ghouls appeared instantly, their rotting bodies lurching toward me. My grip tightened around the Death Scythe. No hesitation. I charged in, cutting down the first ghoul with a clean slice, but another lunged at me from the side. I twisted, bringing the blade up just in time, severing its head.

Something felt…off. The ghouls were moving too smoothly, reacting too intelligently. It didn't matter. I had failed before—I wouldn't fail again.

I swung relentlessly, but the ghouls countered with more agility than I remembered. My body ached, exhaustion clawing at me, but I refused to stop. I wouldn't let them win. I wouldn't let the Death Scythe slip from my grasp again.

Then, I heard it—a voice. Faint at first, but familiar. My vision blurred. The ghouls hesitated, their figures flickering for just a moment.

"Liam! Stop!"

Nicole?

I hesitated, my breathing ragged. No, this was a trick. Another test. I grit my teeth and charged forward again.

"Damn it, Liam!" Ken's voice now. "Snap out of it!"

I barely had time to register the movement before a fist collided with my face. My head snapped back, and the world spun violently. Darkness swallowed me whole.

When I came to, my body was heavy, my limbs unresponsive. I groaned, blinking up at the blurred figures standing over me. My vision cleared just enough to see Ken, fist still clenched, glaring down at me. Nicole was beside him, breathing heavily, her face pale.

"What...?" My voice was hoarse.

Nicole shook her head, eyes shining with something between anger and relief. "You were attacking us, Liam. Dain put you under an illusion. You thought you were fighting ghouls, but you—" She stopped herself, swallowing hard.

I exhaled sharply, realization crashing over me like a wave. My stomach twisted. I had fought them—no, I had tried to kill them. My fingers twitched, aching from how tightly I had gripped my weapon.

Ken scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You're welcome, by the way."

I sat up slowly, my head still spinning. My throat was dry, but I forced the words out. "...Thanks."

Nicole's expression softened. "Are you okay?"

I clenched my jaw, shaking off the lingering haze of the illusion. Dain had played me. Worse, I had fallen for it.

I forced myself to stand, ignoring the way my legs trembled. "I'm fine."

Ken snorted. "Yeah, sure. You almost gutted us, but yeah, you're totally fine."

I didn't respond. Instead, I turned my gaze toward the darkness beyond them. Dain was still out there. And I wasn't about to let him get away with this.

Nicole stepped closer, her eyes scanning me with quiet worry. She hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "We should rest." Her voice was soft but firm, leaving little room for argument. "You're struggling to keep up, Liam."

I looked away, jaw tightening, but said nothing. The exhaustion in my limbs and the dull throb in my head made it impossible to deny. Ken didn't object either. For now, we had no choice but to regroup.

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