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

Swords appeared in Flain's hands, and he summoned Aran and Ivy beside him. In his mind, everything started to make sense—Flor had known everything about him from the very first meeting. What was even worse, Flain might not even be the real Flain, because Flor could have altered his memories. This thought sent Flain into an incredible, deathly chill.

"Kill him," Flain said coldly, radiating an aura of death as he pointed at Flor.

"At your service, my king," said Aran, and Ivy readied his ivy vines.

Ivy's ivy wrapped around Flor and coiled around his legs, but Flor didn't draw a weapon and simply stood there calmly. "I'm not threatening you, and I don't want to kill you. When I know who you truly are, wouldn't it feel foolish and wasteful if I killed you?" Flor asked.

Flain calmed down, and dismissed Aran and Ivy.

"Hey, what are you doing, my king? Wouldn't it be better to kill him?" Ivy asked.

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