Chapter 13: Order of Erasure

Morning in the Church

Kael's POV

---

The sunlight crept through the cracked panes of the orphanage chapel, falling across the stone floor like slivers of fire. It was warm. Not harsh. Not burning. Just… soft. My eyelids twitched against it.

'So this is what waking up without pain feels like… strange.'

I didn't move at first. The cot beneath me was too small for my frame, the sheets coarse against my skin, but… it wasn't stone. It wasn't mud or blood-soaked earth. I wasn't cold.

The silence in my skull was heavier than the night.

No chains. No screaming. No smell of rotting flesh.

Only faint breathing—small, peaceful rhythms, the kind that children make when they dream without nightmares. A few bunks away, I heard someone mumble in their sleep. Asta, I think. Snoring already. The idiot.

I slowly opened my eyes. The wooden beams of the ceiling above looked ancient, weathered by time, but they held. Like everything else here… fragile, yet stubborn.

And then it hit me.

'I'm still here. Hage. Church. I didn't burn it down. I didn't run.'

My wrapped hand shifted under the blanket. Even now, it pulsed faintly with stored pain. The rune-scars along my arm tingled—not in warning, but like a memory trying to wake up.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I turned my head.

And there—kneeling silently by a window with her hands folded in prayer—was Sister Lily.

She didn't notice I was awake. Her head was bowed, her voice silent. She prayed like she had nothing left but faith. There was… exhaustion in her posture. She wasn't just a caretaker. She carried everything.

She felt… human.

I watched her a while.

And for a flicker of a second—I wished I could belong here.

But I didn't.

And I couldn't.

Still, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

No one noticed. Not yet.

Until—

"Ah! You're awake!" Orsi's cheerful voice boomed near the chapel door. He had a wooden tray in his hands with what smelled like bread and warm stew. His robe was slightly crooked, and his hair was messy—like he'd been up half the night worrying.

I blinked at him. I didn't know what to say.

"You feeling okay, son?" he asked, voice softening as he approached. "You were shaking in your sleep."

'Shaking...?'

I hadn't realized. But my arm… the cursed one… it had clawed into the mattress. Splinters stuck under my fingernails.

Still, I nodded. "...I'm fine."

He smiled. Not out of obligation. It was genuine.

That made it harder to look at him.

He placed the tray beside me and pulled up a small stool. "The kids didn't know what to make of you. But Asta said you 'smelled like a storm.' He meant it as a compliment. I think."

"...I see."

There was a pause. Then he looked me in the eye.

"I don't know what you've been through, Kael. But you don't have to say anything. Just know… you can stay here as long as you need to."

I stared at him. Waiting for the catch.

There wasn't one.

Not yet.

Not ever, if it were up to them.

But I knew better.

The world doesn't give anything freely.

The world takes.

---

The bread was stale, but it was warm. The stew had been thrown together from roots and salt, not much more than a meal to fill an empty stomach—but that too, was something new. It settled in me, heavy and foreign, but not unpleasant.

I hated that I didn't hate it.

The children were louder after breakfast. Asta was an endless whirlwind of energy, shouting that he was going to be Wizard King, tripping over his own feet as he tried to race past the others. His clumsy enthusiasm was a far cry from the kind of loudness I was used to—one filled with fear and rage.

Yuno, as always, stood in the background, arms crossed, his eyes sharp and observing. He was quiet, not out of fear or shyness, but because it seemed like he had to prove something. To everyone around him. To himself. It reminded me of a different time. A different person I used to be.

And then he looked at me.

"You're not from around here," Yuno said, his voice low, more of an observation than a question.

I simply nodded, meeting his eyes for a second before I looked away.

He didn't push it. Instead, he just gave me a small nod, as if that was enough for now.

I guess it was.

Orsi handed me a wooden bucket and a rag later in the day. "You mind helping with the windows? Sister Lily's busy."

I didn't have to do it. There was no real obligation. But I took the bucket anyway, like I always did when I didn't want to face the silence.

The sun was bright, but not in a harsh way. It didn't burn; it just... was. The light was different here, softer, almost kind. I scrubbed at the windows in silence, listening to the sounds around me. The soft twittering of birds. The distant chattering of the village. The creak of the carts as they rolled by.

The thing was, none of it felt real.

None of it was real.

It was all too calm, too peaceful for someone like me. There were no screams, no weapons, no blood in the air.

'This can't be real. I should be somewhere else.'

But I wasn't. I was here. And for some reason, I didn't want to leave.

The evening passed quickly. The children dashed inside when the meal bell rang. Sister Lily handed me a bowl of stew and smiled when I accepted it. She didn't ask about the scars. She didn't ask where I came from, or why I wore a cloak that looked like I'd just crawled out of hell itself.

She didn't look at me like I was a monster.

And for that, I couldn't meet her eyes.

After dinner, the kids were bouncing off the walls, begging for a story. Orsi raised an eyebrow and motioned to me.

"Come on, Kael. Got any tales from where you're from?"

I froze.

What was I supposed to tell them? Stories from the wars? From the cities that burned? The cities where you couldn't tell who was alive by the stench in the air?

How the hell do you turn that into something for children to hear?

But I had to say something.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and began, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be.

"There was a boy," I started. "Born without anything. Weak. Hated. Useless."

Asta leaned forward, his eyes wide, waiting for me to continue. Yuno remained still, his sharp gaze following me as I spoke.

"But he refused to break," I went on. "Every time the world tried to crush him, he stood back up. And one day, the chains that the world had put on him... shattered."

Asta's face lit up with excitement. His hands clapped together, and his grin stretched from ear to ear. Yuno didn't say anything, but his gaze was intense. He was thinking, analyzing.

The kids clapped anyway, their faces glowing with that innocence I hadn't seen in years. And for a brief, fleeting moment, I didn't mind. I didn't mind at all.

---

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the village. I stood outside, just behind the church, looking at the massive skull that towered on the edge of the village. The skeleton of a demon.

I'd seen it before, in passing. It had been there since before the village was built, a remnant of something ancient. Something powerful.

Tonight, it seemed to be watching me.

But that wasn't all.

There was something else. Something in the air. Too still. Too quiet. The winds didn't stir. The birds didn't sing. It was like the world itself was holding its breath.

And then I felt it.

A pulse.

It wasn't physical. It wasn't the beat of a heart or the thrum of flesh. It was something else—something deep, something... older.

It wasn't malice. It wasn't evil.

It was balance. The world was moving, shifting, aligning itself again.

And it had noticed me.

I felt it in the pit of my stomach, the raw, gnawing weight that had been growing inside of me ever since I arrived here. My cursed arm flared faintly beneath its wrappings, reacting to the pulse. The magic stirred, but not like it usually did. This wasn't a threat. Not yet.

Behind me, I heard a voice, low and cold.

"Do you feel that?"

It was Yuno. He stood by my side, staring at the skull too, his eyes narrowing.

Asta followed soon after, stumbling out into the open. He looked confused, disoriented, like something was wrong but he couldn't place it. "I don't know what that is… but it's giving me the chills."

Even Sister Lily was there, stepping cautiously into the open space. She muttered something under her breath.

And then, I saw it.

In the hollow of the skull, something stirred. Something far beyond human.

A shape.

Not flesh. Not blood. But a form. An entity. It hovered in the air—shifting, swirling, like threads of some great web, translucent and faintly shimmering. It was human in shape, but there was no face, no limbs, just an aura of cold intention.

An Order.

The world's correction. Its answer to something it couldn't let slide.

It rose from the skull's cavity, silently, moving without sound.

And the space around it bent, like light itself was twisting in its presence.

I felt it then—the world had noticed me. My presence.

And this—this thing—was the answer.

I clenched my fists, my aura surging, violet sparks flashing outward from me. The world trembled under the intensity of it. The air around me shook, as if reality itself feared what I might do.

"You think you can take this from me?" I whispered. "Not today."

I rose into the sky, my power flaring, shadow and light crackling around me.

The Order's gaze turned to me, slow and deliberate. It had seen me. It had noticed the wound.

And now it would try to heal it.

---

The Order lingered in the air, a void of nothingness given form. It wasn't a creature. It wasn't alive. It was simply an existence bent on correcting what the world deemed wrong. And right now, that wrong was me.

I hovered above the village, the ground slipping further away, the sky darkening with the pulse of my magic. I could feel the pressure building in the air, like the world was holding its breath—waiting to see what would happen next.

"You think you can correct me?" I spat, my voice low, rasping with raw power. "I won't let you. Not now. Not ever."

The Order didn't respond in words. It didn't need to. It was just a presence—an entity, a force. It moved toward me with a quiet inevitability, a shiver of static that cut through the air.

I didn't wait for it to make the first move. My power surged, a violent rush of violet and shadows that cracked the air around me. The ground below me trembled, as if the very earth was terrified of what was coming.

I raised my hand, and with a thought, my chains responded. They whipped out from the darkness within me, tearing through the air with a crack that sounded like thunder. Each link of the chain was a manifestation of my will—my freedom—ripped from the very fabric of reality itself.

The Order slowed, pausing for a split second as if sensing the danger. Its form shimmered, and I saw what it was: a twisted version of balance, a thing born of pure correction.

But balance was a lie.

I swung the chains down toward it. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts. I had no room for mercy in this. The chains cut through the air, snapping like a serpent and wrapping around the Order's core. They tore into its threads, unraveling the delicate web of its existence.

It screeched—not with sound, but with the bending of reality itself, a soundless cry that rattled my bones. The chains wrapped tighter, pulling, rending the threads apart, until— with a force so violent the air itself shattered—it broke.

The Order's form flickered, fading. It was like watching a mirage dissipate in the wind, each strand of its being turning to dust, scattering into the void.

But the world did not stay still.

As the last remnants of the Order disintegrated, the pressure in the air didn't fade. It intensified.

Something shifted in the sky.

My chains snapped back into place, vanishing into the void within me. But I knew it wasn't over. Not yet.

I looked around, feeling the weight of a thousand eyes on me. Sister Lily, Yuno, Asta—each of them was staring at the sky, at me. Fear. Wonder. Uncertainty.

And then, I saw it.

A rift, jagged and harsh, opening in the sky. A tear in reality itself. It wasn't just the Order that had noticed me. The world itself was beginning to react to my presence.

I didn't have time to think.

I could feel the rift—alive, pulling at me, hungry.

And through it, something else was coming. I could feel its shape, its intention. Dark, vast, and unyielding.

I had no choice. No time to hesitate.

"Get inside!" I shouted, turning toward the village below. The words were ripped from me, raw and primal, fueled by the instinct to protect.

Sister Lily was already moving, urging the children to run back into the safety of the church. Asta and Yuno were not far behind, their faces set in determination.

But I didn't follow. I couldn't.

The rift was opening wider. The dark shape behind it was massive, a shadow of something that had no place in this world. Its energy pressed against me, dragging me closer to the tear, to the thing that was emerging from the void.

"Come on!" Yuno called, his voice strained. He was standing a few steps back, the tremors in the air sending his grimoire into a silent rattle.

I felt it—the weight of the world on my shoulders, its twisted, unseen gaze upon me. It was not just a creature that had been sent to deal with me. No, it was something older. Something far more dangerous. It was as though the world itself had decided that I was too much of an aberration to be left unchecked.

I clenched my fists again, feeling the dark pulse of my magic surge through me, raw and untamed.

"I will not be corrected," I whispered, my voice low, intense. "Not by you. Not by anything."

And then, the rift tore wide open.

The creature—no, the force—stepped through.

It wasn't just a being. It was a wave. A flood of darkness, of raw, unbridled power. Its presence choked the air, a suffocating weight that dragged at my magic.

The ground buckled beneath me, and I staggered back, struggling to keep my footing. But I could feel it—its gaze. The force of its will was turning everything around me into ash.

And this time, there was no running. No escape.

I swallowed my fear, gritting my teeth as I raised my hands toward the creature. My chains, my power—everything I was—would meet it head-on.

I wouldn't let the world take me again.

I would not be the thing it erased.

The space around me darkened, every muscle in my body tensing, ready to shatter whatever it was that came from the rift.

The world's answer had arrived.

And now, it was my turn to answer back.

---

The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the breeze around me came to a standstill, as if the entire village—no, the entire world—paused in that single moment.

I hovered in the sky, facing the entity, this construct summoned by the world itself to correct a wound it couldn't bear.

My heart thundered in my chest, but my focus didn't waver. This thing, this 'Order,' was not a monster. It wasn't some twisted creation of malice or hatred. No. It was something far worse. It was the world's attempt to erase me—to fix the mistake of my existence.

I could feel its cold, calculating presence, not a single ounce of emotion, just pure logic. It existed to restore balance, to eliminate the aberration I represented.

A thin crackling sound filled the air as I took a step forward, my chains rising from the ground around me, glowing with violet energy. They reacted to the pressure in the air, to the unnatural presence of this entity. I wasn't just angry anymore—I was beyond that. This was my moment.

"You think you can just erase me?" My voice came out a growl, rough and ragged. "I'm not your damn mistake to fix."

I wasn't sure if it could understand me. It didn't seem like it cared for words. But it moved, slow and deliberate, as if it was calculating every possible response to the mistake I had become. Its form rippled, and for a split second, I saw the glimpse of what might've been a face—an indistinct blur in the void.

I could hear my breath, harsh and steady, and I could feel my magic surge again. I extended my hand, fingers curling as I willed my chains forward. They tore through the space, reality itself bending and warping around them as they aimed straight at the entity.

But before they could reach it, the Order moved. Not with speed, but with an impossible elegance. The threads of its form unraveled in mid-air, becoming a perfect shield of translucent strands that blocked my chains without so much as a tremor.

The space around us seemed to distort further, the air thickening as the entity prepared its counter.

I tightened my grip on the chains. I wasn't about to lose to this thing. Not this time.

With a cry, I shot myself forward, and my chains followed, faster now, cutting through the air like blades. The energy around us intensified, filling the air with an electric charge. I could hear the faint hum of the world itself—the energy of the Order, of the construct, clashing with my freedom, my very will to exist.

The space around us bent. Reality, itself, seemed to groan under the pressure of the battle unfolding between us. The entity responded, sending out a pulse of energy. It wasn't destructive; no, it was methodical, calculated. It was trying to bind me, to subdue me with sheer will, and it nearly succeeded.

For a moment, I felt my chains hesitate.

That was all it took.

I couldn't let up.

"No…" I whispered, fury burning in my chest. I closed my eyes, and in that instant, I felt it. The core of my magic—the chains that linked me to this world, to my power, to my very will.

It flared, and in an instant, the chains erupted from the ground beneath, tearing through the sky like a storm, a cyclone of wrath and freedom. The air trembled, bending under the weight of the magic, as if the world itself feared what was about to happen.

The entity flinched. The faint pulse of its energy stuttered, and in that moment, I knew—I had the upper hand.

But I wasn't done yet.

I shot forward, my aura flaring, and with one final roar, I let the chains loose.

The space around us shattered.

The entity had barely enough time to react, its delicate, translucent threads attempting to reconfigure, to shield itself. But it was too late. The cyclone of chains smashed into its form with devastating force, tearing through the constructs like a hurricane ripping through fragile glass. Reality itself seemed to splinter, fragments of the world's correction mechanism dissolving as my chains unraveled its structure.

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw it struggle—like a dying thing, broken and desperate to maintain its purpose. Its form flickered, stuttering, like it was trying to recalibrate itself, but I wouldn't give it the chance.

With one final surge of power, I threw every ounce of my being into the chains, and the world cracked. The entity, the Order, shattered into oblivion.

The silence that followed was deafening.

My chains fell to the ground like lifeless snakes, and the sky around me seemed to exhale, as if the world had been holding its breath for too long. I floated there, suspended in the aftermath, feeling the rush of energy drain from my body.

I was still alive. I had won.

But only for now.

Then, the air shifted again. This time, there was no calm. There was only the unmistakable presence of something far worse.

I turned to face it, my heart sinking.

Another one.

The world had sent another Order.

It materialized before me, this one far more menacing than the last. It was not just an entity; it was a force—a singularity. A black hole wrapped in light, threads of dark energy crackling through the air, distorting everything around it. Its very presence felt like the end of everything.

I was already drained. I had used everything to destroy the first Order. But this new entity? I felt like nothing more than an insect, ready to be crushed.

I could already hear my heartbeat, slow and heavy in my chest.

This time… this time, there would be no escape.

But before I could even make a move, a different presence washed over me—a cold, unyielding force that pressed against the overwhelming power of the Order.

A shadow cast over the battlefield.

From behind me, I heard a voice—a voice I would recognize anywhere, and it sent a cold chill down my spine.

"Not this time," Yami's voice growled.

The entity before me flinched, as if sensing something far more dangerous than it could comprehend. Yami was here. He had arrived.

He didn't need to say another word.

The ground beneath us cracked as the air split open with the force of his presence. Yami's magic, darker than any night, surged with raw power, and the Order faltered. The very light around it bent and twisted as if it was being unraveled.

Yami's hand shot out, his magic coiling around him like tendrils of pure darkness. The Order did not have time to react. The air shimmered, and then it was gone, completely obliterated by the sheer force of Yami's attack.

Not a trace remained.

The battle was over before it even began.

Yami turned to me, his gaze unreadable. "That's the last one, Kael. Consider yourself lucky."

I tried to speak, to thank him, but my body wasn't willing to cooperate. My head spun, and the dark void that had been lurking in my vision rushed in faster than I could control.

"Thank… you…" The words barely left my lips before my knees buckled. The world went dark.

---

When I came to, the first thing I noticed was the lack of the cold, suffocating air that had surrounded me during the battle. Instead, the room around me was warm and quiet, the faint scent of wood and earth lingering in the air. I groaned as I shifted, feeling the dull ache in my body. Every muscle seemed to protest, but I pushed through the discomfort and sat up.

The memories of the battle rushed back—the entity, the immense power of the Order, and the way I had almost succumbed to it. But something was different now. My head felt clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, and I was no longer drowning in that overwhelming storm of magic and power.

I shifted my gaze around, still slightly disoriented. The room was simple—wooden walls, a small bed, a few bare necessities. It was nothing extravagant, but I could tell it was the kind of place where people lived with a kind of quiet resilience.

"...You're awake."

I turned to see Yami standing by the door, his silhouette framed by the dim light from outside. His expression was unreadable, but I could tell he had been keeping watch.

"You're really lucky I came when I did," he continued, his voice gruff as ever, but with an edge of something softer buried underneath. "You wouldn't have lasted much longer after that last hit."

I swallowed hard. "I was close."

Yami walked toward me, his boots heavy against the floor. "You were damn lucky," he muttered, kneeling down beside me. "I don't know what the hell that thing was, but I've never felt an aura like that before. You've got guts, I'll give you that. But you're also reckless. Do you really think you can go around fighting things like that on your own?"

I flinched slightly at his words. I had been reckless. That was the only way to describe it. I hadn't thought beyond the immediate battle—I hadn't been prepared for what was coming. And now, here I was, injured, exhausted, and on the brink of passing out.

"You've got potential," Yami said, his tone softer now, though still firm. "More than I expected. But you've still got a hell of a lot to learn. You can't take on the world by yourself. I told you that before. We train together. We learn together. That's the only way you'll be strong enough to handle what's next."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. It wasn't easy for me to admit, but I knew Yami was right. I had been pushing too hard on my own, thinking I could handle everything without help.

"How long was I out?" I asked, changing the subject. My mind was still clouded from the battle, but the sharp edge of pain was beginning to recede.

"Not long. A few hours. I kept you safe long enough for your body to recover some, but you're not done yet. You'll need to rest more."

I nodded, feeling a strange sense of gratitude wash over me. Yami hadn't left me behind. He'd been here—watching over me, even when I didn't deserve it. His words were harsh, but I knew they were coming from a place of genuine care.

"Thank you," I said, the words escaping before I could stop them. I felt weak saying it, but it was the truth.

Yami didn't answer at first. He just stared at me, his gaze intense. Then, his lips twitched into something close to a grin, though it was brief and almost imperceptible.

"Don't make me regret it, kid," he finally said, standing up. "I didn't save you so you could go running off to die again. You've got a chance. Make it count."

He turned to leave, but before he walked out the door, he paused and looked back at me over his shoulder. "And one more thing—don't get too comfortable here. I'm not gonna coddle you. You're gonna get stronger. And I'll be the one pushing you to your limits."

I watched as he disappeared from the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The room was silent again, and I couldn't help but let out a long, exhausted breath.

Yami had been right about everything. I couldn't do this on my own.

The world had sent a damn Order to erase me—and I had survived it. But I had seen the power of that thing, and I knew it wasn't over. The world would come for me again. And next time, I wasn't sure I'd be able to face it alone.

But this time, I wasn't alone. Yami was here. And I knew now more than ever that I had to get stronger—not just for myself, but for those who were standing beside me.

I wasn't done yet.

---

This is a fckin long a** chapter, hope you liked it, this chapter broke my brains, I have lost all my brainless for today.....next will be his training arc and yes, yami is stronger than original, he is something thateven world fears, but has not disturbed him because there was a similar entity in demon faction, for the sake of balance yami is alive...and yeah, those orders are stronger than wizard king, yes, our mc has already surpassed wizard kings, because of his magic, his powers are op, yes, but it's not yet shown properly, nobody in this world except one can bring his true powers out.....and about his previous life, that's the story for later.....seeya, thank you for reading ><.