Chapter 6: Determination Is Synonymous With Talent

Uso had just stepped outside to resolve some minor matters with the Village Chief. Time passed as it always did, but the Chief remained the same: enigmatic, calm, and detached. No matter what catastrophe befell the Village of Mirrors, the Chief's expression never wavered. That eerie stillness alone disturbed Uso more than most horrors he'd encountered.

Legends spoke of the Village Chief as a man who had lived over two hundred years. A living relic of every calamity that had scarred the Village of Mirrors. He had survived floods, plagues, wars, and curses—yet never aged, never changed.

Despite his vast talent and longevity, he never sought the glory of the Flower Village. No, he chose to remain with the weak, the broken, and the insignificant of the Oas clan, rooted in the cursed soil of the Mirror Village.

Uso found it all... suspicious. Every attempt he made to ask the Chief about his origins or goals had led to one thing: death. His own.

Eventually, Uso learned not to question. Only to observe. To speculate. Perhaps, like himself, the Chief had no fear of death. Perhaps he chose to remain simply to witness the coming catastrophes. Perhaps he was another madman.

Everyone saw the Chief as a zealot—a man obsessed with the Mirror God. His devotion was borderline heretical. The sheer number of shrines and churches he erected, the unforgivable acts committed in the name of that god, all confirmed Uso's suspicions.

Uso himself had been a victim of those crimes in several previous cycles. He had come to understand one terrifying truth: the Chief's every word was deliberate. Every phrase, every syllable calculated to provoke, to gauge, to dissect.

Under that pressure, over hundreds of cycles, Uso was forced to sharpen every instinct, every gesture, until he too became something inhuman.

And now...

How would the Chief react to Uso meeting a deity?

Uso had intended to reflect on that during his walk, but he found himself lost in a spiral of thoughts. This time, it was different.

For the first time, in what felt like billions of cycles, something unprecedented had happened.

He had done nothing. Nothing. And yet, a god appeared.

As though fate itself had shifted.

Had the god altered destiny?

Only divine beings could tamper with destiny, let alone twist its course.

Uso clenched his fist. If I die this cycle... will it change anything? Will the next cycle be different?

Maybe he only had one chance to meet this god. If so, he needed to seize it. Exploit it. Learn as much as possible.

If I die today... then I must achieve what I intended tomorrow.

Living this way, Uso came to see each day as a treasure. He trained in dozens of ways, mastering skills, strategies, and powers. His strength far surpassed most beings in the village.

But death pursued him. Not just him—the whole Village. No, the entire Oas Clan was haunted by death.

Uso had desperately searched for ways to survive. He tried countless spells, forbidden magics, blood rituals.

What he eventually learned was chilling:

Everyone in the village was tied to a mysterious "Card."

These cards granted powers to some, but not to others.

Uso had never been chosen. In any of his lives.

Desperate, he discovered something: his soul was not normal.

His soul... devoured others.

When Uso killed someone, he could absorb their soul—and their power.

At first, it felt like a gift. A miracle.

But it came with rules.

Uso could only hold ten souls.

More than that, and madness set in. Or worse—his soul would shatter.

He could not use multiple powers at once.

He had to wait 24 hours after absorbing a soul to use its power.

If he ignored a power for too long, he would lose it.

He experimented relentlessly. But no matter what he tried, the result was always the same:

Death.

Over and over again.

Uso had even preemptively assassinated future prodigies to steal their gifts—but that too failed. The soul only transferred if the target already possessed the power. Potential wasn't enough.

He knew another genius would awaken in a month. For now, he had to wait. Plan. Endure.

He needed to find a way to summon the god from the mirror again. Or, at the very least, a reason to leave the village without suspicion.

And until then... he had to survive the storms yet to come. The Receptacle would appear soon.

His thoughts were broken by a gentle, melodic voice.

"Hey, Uso! Uso, it's me!"

Uso blinked, emerging from his trance.

He wasn't surprised. He had lived this moment countless times.

But this time, it hit him differently. His mind was clouded by deeper thoughts.

The girl before him radiated excitement.

Aza.

The village's golden prodigy. Uso's childhood friend. Perhaps the last remnant of something pure in his life.

Her eyes gleamed. "I have amazing news! I was chosen to join the Golden Village!"

The highest honor.

Uso smiled, ruffling her hair gently.

"I'm proud of you, Aza. You'll create a legend of your own. Carry our village's legacy to the stars."

Aza blushed furiously.

Uso knew.

She loved him.

She had for a long time.

In earlier lives, he felt warmth from that love. Now, he saw only utility.

Love, he thought, is just a bodily function. Chemicals, systems. Not a truth of the soul.

Everything from blushing to accelerated heartbeat could be faked. Simulated.

He could fake it himself.

Aza pulled away with a mock pout, hiding her flustered joy.

"Stop treating me like a kid! Soon, with the Astral World's help, I'll be able to reach the age of 25. You're only 16! Show some respect!"

Uso chuckled. His laughter warm, reassuring. Too warm.

It made Aza uncomfortable in the deepest part of her soul.

"Uso... I don't want to leave you. But I can't say no. What should I do?"

Uso kept his soft smile, though his eyes were dull, almost dead.

He stepped closer, brushing her hair back.

Their lips were nearly touching.

His voice came out like velvet.

"Go. I promise I'll catch up to you. Don't worry about me. Your future is more important than anything under this sky. So please... fly. Be free."

Aza held back tears, barely maintaining her composure.

She tried to shift the conversation.

"U-Um... so... how did it go with the mirror? You went to see it, right?"

Uso's expression turned bleak.

"I failed."

Aza's face darkened.

"And your brother...?"

Uso sighed. "You know him. He beat me."

Aza's features twisted in fury. She looked ready to explode.

"Aza," he said gently. "He's military. You can't challenge him until you reach a higher rank in a bigger village. Even if he's a disgrace, he's still a soldier."

"I know..." she muttered.

Then she looked him dead in the eyes.

"When I get stronger, I'll protect you. I swear it."

Uso smiled again. A perfect, comforting smile.

The two shared more laughs. More awkward moments. And then they parted ways.

As Aza disappeared, Uso's expression changed completely.

Dead. Cold.

You won't be able to keep that promise.

Because, eventually... I'll kill you.

***

Uso had no other choice but to train harder than anyone else.

Because Uso wasn't talented.

Because Uso had nothing.

Because Uso could only steal.

That was his curse. That was his gift.

He had found a small abandoned shelter, half-devoured by time and dust, on the edge of an isolated zone where strange creatures roamed—Skyrider-like beings, only weaker, disinterested in attacking or defending, as if they had forgotten what it meant to be alive. For Uso, it was perfect. A place untouched by challenge, but filled with potential. He could finally begin. Test every skill he had stolen. Push them to their limits. And maybe—just maybe—steal more.

It seemed he could acquire any ability. His body absorbed souls like a parasite disguised as a man. No, not a man—never a man. Something else. A vessel. A curse made flesh.

He chose one of the Skyriders. It looked like a deformed girl, half-human, half-mistake, born from the wrong memory. Uso killed her with precision. No hesitation. And then he waited.

While the corpse cooled, he focused on his past lives—specifically the skills he had taken along the way. He had lived long, endlessly so, and surely some of those stolen fragments still held value.

There was the power of Kua—a girl who had once saved him, had even tried to save every soul in the Mirror Village. She wasn't from there; she was from the Flower Village. That had always seemed odd to Uso. Why would someone help a place not their own? He hadn't understood it at first. But through Kua, he had glimpsed something rare. Something fragile. Something human. True kindness.

He had done the same to Zua—though she was different. Zua was a war machine in the shape of a girl. One of the many robotic assassins created by the Stone Village. No soul. Just function. But still, something had lingered. Perhaps he had stolen more than just her skill.

Uso had walked through every village. The Hawk Village. The Golden One. The Deserted Sands. The Roses. The Mirrors. All separated. All connected. And each time he came, death followed like a shadow with a crooked smile. Sometimes it waited. Sometimes it didn't.

The cities of the Oas were layers of defense. A spiral of settlements wrapped around one central core: the Castle of the Leader. That place—untouched by time, guarded by fear, ruled by myth. The Leader was said to be divine. A gift from the God of Mirrors, chosen to shepherd the Oas from the moment of their birth. He was the origin, the creator of every village. Each had its purpose, its tradition, its secrets.

In this life—perhaps the last—Uso would reach the Castle. He would make it. No more detours. No more failures. He would either die at the gates or survive to see something greater.

But before that… he had to look inward.

He had to return to his Astral World.

Only, his was not like the others. Not anymore. Too many lives had distorted it. Too many deaths had left their fingerprints. While most could walk through their Astral Plane, shape it, explore it—Uso couldn't even enter. He could only feel it. A heartbeat behind glass. A whisper from another self.

That should have been impossible.

But nothing about Uso was normal.

Because Uso was a regressor.

Every time he died, the world rewound. The clock reset. He was born again. Again. Again. Again.

He had relived the same timeline billions of times. Killed by gods. Betrayed by friends. Slaughtered by strangers he once saved. His mind cracked from the weight of repetition. His soul—if he still had one—was blind. Blind to hope. Blind to meaning. He felt like a man without eyes, watching the world with sockets full of ash.

Without death, he no longer understood life.

In some twisted way, he had tasted immortality. Not the true kind. Not the divine, undying kind. But a simulation. A repetition. A prison disguised as power.

True mortality has an endpoint. A finish line.

Regression is an eternal road with no end in sight. You walk, you die, you wake up. You walk again. Forever.

Uso no longer wanted that.

He wanted to move forward. Once. Just once.

No rewinds. No retries.

He wanted to die when it was time, not when the world said so.

And then…

Then it happened.

Uso didn't feel it.

The cycle.

The loop.

The return.

He felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

His regression—his eternal curse—was gone.

Gone.

Uso stood still.

Emotion flooded him for the first time in countless millennia. Not one. Not two. All of them.

Shock. Terror. Joy. Grief. Hope.

They twisted in his chest like beasts fighting for breath.

He didn't understand.

He couldn't.

He had assumed the regression came from something higher than gods. Not even the Divine Vessels had understood it. Not even the strongest could explain it. It had always been there. A law of existence. Unquestionable.

And now… it wasn't.

He was mortal again.

If he died here, it would be the final time.

No escape. No redo. No forgiveness.

Just death.

Uso looked at his hands.

All his plans—his meticulous calculations—meant nothing now. He had to change everything. Every step. Every breath.

He laughed.

A cracked, unholy laugh.

"Haha… haahhahahah!"

He sounded like a madman. And maybe he was. He had one life to kill a god. To reach the Castle. To defy fate. And he had no safety nets left. No practice runs.

It was impossible.

No—worse.

It was suicidal.

Anyone sane would give up. Walk away. Try to live a quiet life. Die in peace.

But not Uso.

Uso felt something else.

Power.

Astral energy leaked from his body, more potent than ever. More pure. More alive.

He felt… determined.

Of all the talents a man could have—strength, intelligence, agility—determination was the most terrifying. It was raw. Unshaped. Limitless.

A determined man could crush a genius, break fate, rewrite the rules.

If given a path, he could follow it into the impossible.

And Uso… Uso was not just determined.

He was obsessed.

He was possessed.

He was the most dangerous kind of determined.

He would reach the Castle.

He would defy the gods.

He would make this one and only life count.

Determination Is Synonymous With Talent after all.