Born a Natural

"My boy's up next!" Varek's voice boomed with unrestrained excitement as he grabbed Vahn by the collar, shaking him roughly like a ragdoll.

Vahn groaned, swatting at Varek's hands. "If you're this hyped just because he's getting called up, imagine what'll happen if he actually awakens something like a B-grade…"

Varek suddenly froze, his grip tightening. His eyes flared as he pulled Vahn in close, their faces mere inches apart. "B-grade?!" he barked, as if personally offended. "How dare you look down on my boy with those low expectations of yours?" His voice thundered through the air, making Vahn wince and cover his ears with both hands to prevent his eardrums from bursting.

"I'm just saying, you might wanna temper your expectations—"

"A-grade or nothing!" Varek declared powerfully, chest puffed out, exuding an air of absolute certainty. He clapped a firm hand on Vahn's shoulder, his confidence unshakable. "You think I'd raise anything less?"

Vahn sighed, rubbing his temples. "You know, it's not the result of the awakening that kills a man," he said dryly, trying to pry himself free from Varek's vice-like grip. "It's the high expectations that destroy him."

Varek scoffed, tightening his hold around Vahn's neck in a mock chokehold, making his friend's face turn red. "Come on, bro, you more than anyone should know—Denwen was born for this."

Vahn coughed, tapping at Varek's arm in protest. "That doesn't mean he—ack—has to be perfect," he choked out.

"Perfect?" Varek released him with a dramatic flourish and spread his arms wide. "Denwen isn't just perfect. He's beyond it! He's excelled in sports since he could walk, has a body even top-tier Rank 1 models would envy, and don't get me started on his work ethic." Varek's voice took on a grand, storytelling tone, his expression full of pride. "And then, of course, there's his greatest feat of all—"

Vahn groaned. "Here we go again…"

—-

Six years ago,

"Come on, baby girl, we have to go home, or your mum is going to be very mad at us," Varek said, his deep voice carrying a playful warmth as he pulled a little girl along.

Nicole, a bundle of mischief and energy, suddenly yanked her tiny hand free, making a mad dash toward a brightly lit toy shop. Varek sighed but smiled as he lunged forward, scooping her up with practiced ease and swinging her onto his broad shoulders.

"No, no! Nicole wants a toy!" she babbled, her small fists pounding against his head in protest. Her fiery little tantrum was nothing new, and it only made his grin widen.

"You know what?" he said, shifting his hold to secure her. "If you behave, Daddy will fly you home on his head."

Nicole's pout wavered, her eyes lighting up as she gasped. "Really?"

Varek nodded. "But only if my little princess behaves."

A giggle burst from her lips as she opened her arms wide, already feeling the rush of wind as he prepared for her favorite game. He placed her stomach-down on top of his head, gripping her hands while pretending to be a jet engine. Then, with a deep breath, he took off running.

"Vroooom!" he imitated the sound of an aircraft, zigzagging through the empty street while Nicole squealed with laughter, the sound ringing like bells in the cool evening air.

Despite his playful demeanor, Varek subconsciously picked a shortcut through a lonely road. It was always the fastest way home, but Nicole never liked it. The street was narrow and dimly lit, the old lamps flickering as if struggling to hold back the encroaching darkness. The scent of damp earth and rotting wood filled the air, a result of the abandoned buildings that lined the path. Shadows stretched unnaturally, distorting against the cracked pavement. A cold breeze whistled through gaps in the ruined structures, carrying eerie whispers that made the road feel… haunted.

Nicole's grip on Varek's hair tightened. "Daddy…" she whispered, her voice suddenly small. "I don't like this place."

Varek slowed his pace slightly. He could feel her tiny body tense atop his head. This happened every time they walked this way. The loneliness of the road—it was almost alive, pressing against them, watching.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching up to pat her hand. "What did Daddy tell you?"

Nicole hesitated. "That as long as you're here, nothing bad can happen to me…"

"That's right," Varek said with a reassuring chuckle. "And who am I?"

She sniffled but answered in a tiny voice. "The strongest."

"The strongest," Varek repeated with a grin. "So don't be scared, baby girl. No shadow, no monster, nothing in this world can hurt you as long as I'm here."

Nicole nodded against his head, her fingers still gripping his hair.

But then—a sound.

Distant, yet sharp.

The unmistakable clash of battle.

Varek's easy smile vanished in an instant, his body tensing. His warrior instincts flared to life, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He came to a halt, listening intently. The wind carried muffled grunts, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by an ear-piercing screech.

Not human.

"Nicole," Varek's voice lowered into a firm whisper. "Stay close to me."

The atmosphere shifted as his battle axe materialized from his spatial ring, the weight familiar in his grip. The cold steel gleamed under the weak lamplight. His stance changed—feet firmly planted, muscles coiled, senses sharpened.

The fight was close.

He moved quickly, each step silent yet sure as he followed the sounds. As he turned a corner, he reached a clearing and stopped dead in his tracks.

In the center of the bloodied battlefield stood a boy.

No older than ten.

He fought with a precision and skill far beyond his years, his movements sharp and calculated, each strike executed with ruthless efficiency. His body—lean, sculpted like a warrior. His expression—cold, devoid of fear, hesitation, or doubt.

Surrounding him were four already slain creatures—massive, grotesque figures, their lifeless bodies twisted on the ground.

And before him—two more.

Blind Walkers.

The beasts were horrifying. They stood on four legs, their bodies covered in matted fur that barely hid the grotesque muscle underneath. They were the size of huskies but with elongated, unnatural limbs, their claws thick and jagged, capable of tearing through flesh with ease. Their heads… that was the worst part.

Where eyes should have been, there was only smooth, featureless skin, a terrifying absence that made them even more unnatural. Their elongated snouts twitched aggressively, their sense of smell compensating for their blindness. Their mouths were jagged with uneven, needle-like teeth that chattered eerily, saliva dripping onto the blood-soaked ground.

Despite their nightmarish appearance, the boy stood firm.

With a single calculated step, he shifted his weight, his footwork flawless.

The first Blind Walker lunged.

The boy spun effortlessly, his broken dagger blade slashing upward in a clean arc—severing its head mid-air. Before the second beast could react, he had already shifted, a precise thrust piercing through its skull. It let out a strangled shriek before falling limp.

Just like that.

He had dispatched an entire pack of Rank 1 monsters—creatures that normally required a team of at least four low-ranked warriors led by a mid-Rank 1 captain.

And yet, he did it alone.

Varek stared, momentarily stunned.

Blood stained the boy's clothes, streaked across his arms and legs. His breathing was steady, his expression unchanged. The crimson splattered on his pale skin only made him look more valiant, as if this was just another routine fight.

Nicole, still perched on Varek's shoulders, stared with wide, awe-filled eyes.

To her, he wasn't just a boy.

He was a hero.

Varek finally found his voice.

"Excuse me," he called out cautiously, taking a step forward. "Who are you?"

The boy turned sharply, his cold, calculating gaze locking onto Varek.

For the first time in years, Varek—a seasoned Rank 3 warrior—felt a chill crawl up his spine.

His instincts screamed.

Something in those eyes… something far too sharp, far too knowing for a mere child.

Before he could react—

Darkness.

His body suddenly weakened. The world spun. His vision blurred.

Then, without warning—

He collapsed. Unconscious.