Morfus

❗[Current Writing Contest-WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 Fantas]❗

Flain grew up in a futuristic world. When he was born his parents didn't want him because he didn't live up to their expectations and so he ended up very badly.

Flain was employed as a slave. He was forced to mine radioactive iron deep in the mines. It was drilled into his head that he existed only to obey orders.  

Young Flain was obedient. He doubted some of it but knew nothing else. For years, he never saw a single ray of light; light was only spoken of among the others as a legend.  

The routine was the same: in the morning, he would take a nutrient tablet and water. Then he would mine all day, sleep eight hours, and repeat.  

Flain worked like this from childhood until he was ten years old. He even found a friend, but that friend died of radiation poisoning right in front of Flain. Flain couldn't stop mining. He kept mining with tears streaming down his face.  

Before bed, Flain cried. "I will become the strongest. I will kill you all, and you will become my slaves." Flain stopped crying, stared blankly at the rocky ceiling, then looked ahead. A manic grin appeared on his face, one that would often adorn it from that moment on.

At the age of ten, Flain was assigned to a military camp due to his endurance in the mines and his survival against radiation.  

In the camp, Flain was trained. The regime was much looser; he even had an hour of free time each day. However, Flain didn't make any more friends. Even during his free time, he trained with a smile. He would achieve his goal at any cost, even if it meant training himself to death.  

Experiments were conducted on Flain. He lost his hair, two long gray arms grew on his back, and a third red eye appeared. Flain became a mutant.  

Flain was then sent to war. He fought with sharp katabas. He performed quite well in the war, earning himself command of ten soldiers and becoming a small commander. 

But one day, everything changed.

Flain then dies, is swallowed by darkness, and Flain refuses to die, thus appearing as a skeleton in a fantasy world.

Demonic Skeleton God

<p>"I no longer have any usable space on my body, and if I were to carve it into my face, firstly it would be even more difficult because cheeks don't have stable skin, and on top of that it would be weak because the circle would be small. Anyway, in the past it took me about 50 attempts to create one functional rune circle, so that took at least one year. That's another very important fact in Rune Magic: the larger the circle, the stronger the effect. That's why even the circles I have on my body are not very advanced or powerful. But in direct combat they're very good. Because the power of a magic circle depends not only on the size but also on how strong the person who activated it is."</p>

Flor is The Danger