After a night filled with humiliation, and shortly before dawn, the palace was still asleep…
Except for soft footsteps cutting through the darkness of the corridors, carrying determination and restrained fury.
Karl, dressed in a simple robe, moved quietly through the stone halls, avoiding guards and servants, until he reached an ancient wooden door—half broken, covered in dust, and bound by a rusted chain.
He studied the door for a moment, then muttered mockingly:
"The old training hall… left to rot, just like me."
He pushed the door open slowly.It let out a faint creak, as if groaning from a long silence.
Inside, dim light filtered through high, dust-covered windows, revealing cracked floors and abandoned wooden training tools.
Karl took a deep breath and stepped toward the center of the hall.
"If they see me as weak… so be it. But I won't remain that way."
He began with simple movements—old exercises he knew from his previous life…
Sweat dripped down his body, his breathing quickened, and his eyes burned with resolve.
In a moment of intensity, he kicked an old wooden post fixed into the ground—but the echo that came from beneath it was unnatural…
He stopped abruptly.He bent down, struck the ground with his hand, then examined it closely.
A stone tile—different. Thinner than the rest.
He began digging around it until he managed to lift it partway.
There… he saw a small metal box, covered in ash and the weight of time.
He opened it slowly.
Inside was only one thing:
A black leather notebook.Its cover was cracked, engraved with a symbol resembling a flame coiled around a blade.
He held it in shock, opened the first page, and read:
"Whoever you are… if you have reached these words, then you have touched my shadow.This is not an inheritance… but a curse.Here, power is not granted—it is taken… at an irreversible price.If you are not prepared to bury what remains of yourself… close this book and run."
Karl froze in place.His fingers trembled, his heart pounding violently…
Then slowly, he closed the notebook and gripped it tightly.
"Bury what remains of me?… That's what I've been doing for years."
Karl began reading the contents of the journal, thinking to himself:
"These aren't gentle memoirs… they're written in a dark tone, as if the unknown swordsman abandoned his humanity in exchange for power.""And yet… I can't afford to waste this opportunity."
One exercise caught his attention—simple, yet strange.It aimed to "provoke the Essence of the Soul."
"Provoke the Essence of the Soul…"
Karl repeated it slowly, as if uttering a forbidden spell.
"What the hell is this? I've never heard of anything like it…"
He turned the page and found a note written in smaller handwriting:
"This exercise is not taught… and never will be.No one knows it, and no one will attempt it except one who has chosen to live with half a body.The pain is not a warning… it is the gateway."
Karl trembled for a moment, then thought:
"This is exactly what I was looking for… not easy power, but power no one dares to claim."
He placed his hand over his chest, where the Essence of the Soul was said to flow, and murmured:
"I don't want to be like them… I want to be more than that."
Karl began the exercise…
Gradually, his senses and perception of the world started to fade.Yet he did not lose focus.
Suddenly—without warning—a horrific pain exploded throughout his entire body, as if he were being torn apart again and again…
And yet, he did not give up.He endured pain that would have either killed or driven any ordinary human insane.
Fragments of his painful past life resurfaced in his mind, and he thought:
"No matter the cost… I will make this world acknowledge me."
After nearly five hours, the excruciating pain finally ceased.
Karl collapsed onto the ground, drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted—like someone who had narrowly escaped death.
And then he felt it.
A wild, unfamiliar energy surged through his body.His senses sharpened to an extreme degree—allowing him to feel everything within a twenty-meter radius.
He murmured:
"Everything has a price…"
Karl rose, preparing to leave—but before exiting the hall, an old engraving on the wall caught his eye:
"Eridas Valma… the Exiled."
Karl was stunned to see that the family name was the same as that of the kingdom.
Shock and confusion washed over him as he thought:
"Was he from this family?… And why was he exiled?"
Doubt began to seep into him silently—not knocking on the door, but slipping between his thoughts like smoke, unsettling everything he believed to be certain.
What was this palace hiding from him?
Karl left the hall, the journal wrapped in cloth and carefully concealed.
He raised his head and thought:
"From today on… I will break this world's rules, one by one."