i am scared of

The morning sun barely pierced through the dense canopy, casting long, broken shadows over the bandit encampment. Smoke curled lazily from makeshift fire pits as men prepared for the day's raid—sharpening blades, securing armor, and checking supplies.

Zander stood at the center, overseeing preparations with his usual calm, calculating gaze. Unlike the others—rowdy and eager for blood—he worked in silence, his mind already three steps ahead of the battle.

Then came the sound of hooves against dirt.

The camp quieted as a black carriage, sleek and polished, rolled through the clearing, its iron-trimmed wheels cutting through the mud. The crest of the Greyrat family glinted on the door.

Zander's eyes narrowed.

The carriage door swung open with an expensive creak, and out stepped Habil Greyrat—plump, overdressed, and reeking of scented oils that had no place in a bandit's den. His rings gleamed as he adjusted his coat, his eyes flickering with unease as he scanned the surroundings.

"Well, well," Roadie called out, stepping forward, "didn't think you'd actually show up, Greyrat."

Habil scoffed, brushing off his sleeve as though the air itself offended him. "I'm not the kind of man to let an insult go unanswered."

Roadie's grin widened. "Good. Then let's talk."

With a flick of his hand, he led Habil away from the prying eyes of the camp, deep into the forest.

The two men sat in a secluded clearing, away from the eyes and ears of prying bandits. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss and burning wood

Habil leaned forward, his face contorted in a mix of rage and embarrassment.

"If you can do this for me, Roadie," he muttered, voice dripping with venom, "I'll make sure you never sleep without booze. I'll drown you in the finest wine in the kingdom."

Roadie smirked, resting his blade across his lap. "Sounds like you're real desperate, Greyrat. Who's got you all worked up?"

Habil's fingers twitched, his face dark with humiliation. "That bastard of a son—Zed! He insulted me in front of everyone at the gathering. Even now, people mock me for it!"

His voice cracked at the end, his pride still wounded from the public humiliation.

Roadie chuckled, his grin sharp as a knife. "That so? Well, don't worry, Greyrat. I'll butcher him into pieces and send them straight to your doorstep."

Habil exhaled, pleased. "Good, good… but tell me—how do you plan to catch him?"

Roadie leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "Why don't you ask my new crew member?"

Then, he raised his voice. "Zander! Get in here."

Zander emerged from the shadows, moving with the quiet grace of a ghost. His thin frame and ragged clothes made him look out of place among the hardened criminals.

The moment Habil laid eyes on him, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

He leaned toward Roadie, whispering, "Can we really count on this boy? He looks like he crawled out of a slum."

Roadie didn't even flinch. "That's exactly why he's perfect for this job."

Habil still looked doubtful but gestured impatiently. "Fine. Lay out the plan, boy."

Zander lifted his head, his cold, calculating gaze meeting Habil's.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet—but sharp, like a dagger sliding between rib 

Meanwhile , at the Ravenhart estate, Zed's copy stood in the courtyard, surrounded by seasoned guards—each one a master-tier Rhu user. The air was thick with tension, the ground scarred from their relentless battle.

His red Asura skull mask gleamed under the morning sun, its hollow eyes giving nothing away. His black hair clung to his sweat-slick forehead, and his piercing blue eyes burned with an unyielding determination.

"Again!" he barked, his voice cold and unwavering.

The guards hesitated. They had already knocked him down countless times, but each time, he stood back up—bruised, battered, yet unfazed. It was unnatural.

One guard, his hands trembling, muttered, "This thing… It just won't stay down…"

Before anyone could react, Zed's copy lunged forward, his fist wreathed in swirling Rhu. He moved with terrifying speed, weaving through the warriors like a phantom. A sickening crunch echoed as he sent one guard sprawling.

Another rushed in, blade poised for a strike. The copy caught it with his bare hand, the force sending sparks flying. He twisted his wrist, shattering the weapon, before driving a knee into the soldier's ribs. The man crumpled, coughing blood.

Yet, just as he was about to deliver a crushing blow to a final opponent's face, a voice rang out.

"Stop."

Zed's command was firm, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

Instantly, the copy froze—his fist halting an inch from the guard's face. The sheer pressure from the near-miss sent a shockwave rippling through the air. The guard was lifted off his feet, crashing onto his back, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Zed dismissed the exhausted guards with a nod. "You all did well. Rest up." 

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Their bodies ached from the relentless sparring, but it wasn't their own exhaustion that left them shaken—it was him. 

The red-masked specter that had stood among them, battered and bruised yet never yielding. No matter how many times they knocked him down, he just got back up. Some of them had used every ounce of their strength, pushing themselves beyond their limits, yet he endured, as if pain meant nothing to him. 

Some guards stole cautious glances at him as he walked past. Others avoided looking at him altogether. 

"Monster…" one of them whispered under his breath. 

But Zed's copy didn't react. He had heard it before. Many times. It no longer stung—it was just a fact. 

Zed turned to him. "Meet me in my room." 

Without a word, the masked figure nodded and walked away, his footsteps eerily quiet. 

As Zed's copy walked through the grand hallways, he felt their stares—maids clutching their trays tighter, servants stiffening when he passed. The golden chandeliers above cast flickering shadows over his red Asura mask, making his presence feel even more ominous. 

A few maids whispered, eyes darting toward him. 

"Why does he always wear that mask?" 

"He's terrifying…" 

He clenched his fists. 

"Damn this mask… It makes me stand out too much. And the worst part? I can't even take it off." 

He exhaled sharply and pushed forward, ignoring the whispers and fearful glances, until he reached Zed's door. 

Zed sat by his desk, flipping through a book. He didn't look up as his copy entered, but his voice carried clear authority. 

"How's your progress?" 

The copy pulled off his mask and shook out his black hair, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with a mix of frustration and excitement. 

"Still stuck at Peak Awakener stage," he admitted, "but my bond with Vasuki is getting stronger. I've learned a few things about it." 

Zed finally looked up, interested. "Oh? Like what?" 

A grin tugged at the copy's lips, excitement flickering in his usually cold eyes. 

"First of all," he said, stepping closer, "if I cut someone with Vasuki, it leaves an invisible mark on them. That mark lets me absorb their Rhu whenever I want. It's not very effective against higher-tier users, but it works." 

Zed raised an eyebrow. "That's… dangerous." 

"I know," his copy grinned. "Also, I think Vasuki and I are mentally connected. I don't just wield it—it listens to me. Sometimes, it feels heavier, but when I focus, it adjusts. If I want it lighter, it becomes lighter. If I want more weight, it increases." 

Zed leaned back, thoughtful. "That makes sense. Vasuki is a soul sword—it probably has a will of its own. Have you ever tried speaking to it?" 

His copy's expression darkened slightly. "No. I think my low level is the problem." 

Zed nodded, but then his gaze sharpened. "What about your boon? Have you unlocked it like the other copy?" 

His copy's excitement dimmed. 

"No, not yet," he muttered, his fingers tightening around the mask in his hand. "And honestly, it's frustrating as hell. The other one got his immediately—the moment you created him. Why not me?" 

Zed tapped his fingers on the desk. "Maybe because he has 200% more brain capacity than me?" 

The copy scowled. "Yeah? Well, I have 200% more physical capability than you." 

Zed smirked. "And 50% less brain capacity than me." 

His copy's jaw clenched. "Are you saying that's why I haven't awakened my boon yet?" 

Zed shrugged. "It's just a theory." 

For a moment, silence filled the room. His copy didn't respond, but Zed could feel the frustration radiating off him.