Chapter Two: When Weakness is Unforgivable

The light had not yet pierced through the thick clouds when the guards left the village. But the destruction they left behind—both physical and emotional—remained vivid in the eyes of the survivors.

People dispersed quietly. No crying, no mourning. Just a heavy silence that resembled a burial shroud. Some shared what was left of the homes, while others hung worn-out cloths to wrap their fear from the cold.

As for Rinzo...

He remained standing.

Despite the brutal beating, despite the pain in his chest and ribs, he didn't flinch. And when the last guard passed through the village gates, he collapsed to the ground.

His face in the dirt, staring at the gray sky above, which offered no mercy.

A woman passed by and whispered to her neighbor:

> "Told you he was a thief... I saw with my own eyes how a core vanished under his hand."

An old man said:

> "He's a weirdo... No one knows his origins."

But Rinzo didn't reply.

He tried to stand. Fell.

Tried again. Blood in his mouth. Eyes filled with tears—not of weakness, but sheer pain.

A small child approached him, extending a hand. But before touching him, his mother shouted:

> "Don't go near him, Tiro!"

The boy replied:

> "But he saved me during the last attack..."

She responded:

> "He's strange... dangerous. He has no family, no one cares about him. Stay away."

Then Rinzo thought to himself:

> "What a world... You can't tell who the monsters are—those creatures, or us?"

He leaned on a broken stick, stood with difficulty, and walked toward his hut.

But when he arrived, he found the same woman inside.

He said:

> "This is my home."

She replied coldly:

> "Get out of my sight, thief. Our house was destroyed... this will be ours now. You are nothing."

He wasn't in control, wasn't calm. He raised his hand and slapped her.

Without a word.

Then turned and left.

He found a pile of broken wood at the edge of the village. Sat beneath it, and collapsed.

Hunger. Cold. Pain.

Sleep came to him like it comes to the dead... slowly.

Pitch darkness.

In the middle of the void... a single point of light, distant, like the horizon.

Then a voice, deep, ancient, not of this world:

> "Finally... I've found someone to inherit my curse."

همس رينزو:

> "Who are you? What are you saying?"

A screen appeared before him:

Strength: 1

Endurance: 3

Speed: 1

Aura: 0

Level: 0

Then he woke up.

He thought it was just a dream.

He went to gather some herbs to eat. While bending down, he remmbered the core that had vanished.

He whispered:

> "How did it disappear?"

Before he could finish the thought, he felt something rushing toward him.

He turned.

A beast. Strong. Its fangs gleamed.

He ran.

He wasn't fast, but he was smart. He weaved between trees, dodged, climbed onto a branch.

Tripped over a root and fell hard. His shoulder twisted, his head hit a stone. But he didn't give up.

He picked up a rock and hurled it with all his strength at the beast.

Hit its eye. The creature roared in pain, startled.

Rinzo took the chance and ran again, nearing the village.

Suddenly, a trap made of sharpened sticks fired toward the beast.

It growled, then retreated.

When he entered the village, he found a surprise:

All the trash and wolf corpses were dumped in front of his house.

He laughed quietly, then said:

> "Alright... I'll clean it all up."

He dragged the bodies outside the village.

Sat down to eat.

Then, without complaint, started rebuilding one of the destroyed wooden homes.

It had no roof or door. Some walls had collapsed. He collected wood from the ruins nearby.

He secured the beams first, then crafted a makeshift cover from worn-out fabric. He tied pieces with rope, sealed gaps with mud and straw.

While working, children watched silently.

One whispered:

> "Isn't he the thief?"

Another replied:

> "But look... he's the only one building."

Hours passed.

Much work. Little talk.

Then... night fell. The town slept.

But Rinzo, staring at the gray sky, whispered:

> "The weak are never forgiven... not in this world."

Then closed his eyes.

He wasn't just sleeping. He was waiting.

Near the village gate, two men sat warming themselves. Their breath visible in the cold air.

"Did you hear? Some scouts from the Capital arrived yesterday," one said.

"Really? I thought no one cared about this place," the other replied.

"They say there's a Tier Two Beast lurking nearby. A real King."

A moment of silence.

"Tier Two... That's rare. No wonder they came."

The first man sighed. "Doesn't matter. Even if they find it, they won't protect us."

"Of course not," his friend scoffed. "The nobles are too busy counting their coins, trading lives like grain."

"And the Emperor?"

"Tangled in politics. One family trying to outstep the other, clawing their way up the ranks. The Empire's heart is a nest of snakes."

"And the people outside the walls?"

"We're nothing. Just dust blown by monster breath."

The

fire crackled.

And the stars, hidden by clouds, seemed to listen in silence.