[⚠️ Emotional Content Warning

This chapter contains emotionally intense themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially if you're in a sensitive place emotionally. ]

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The world was boring… too boring.

That's what Noah always thought.

Ever since he could remember, nothing interested him.

Other people chased after strength, relationships or even attention.

But Noah never saw the point.

Why do people need all that?

He didn't.

He only chased one thing.

Death.

It wasn't because he was broken or in pain.

It was because, he just… wanted peace and everyone said peace came after death.

So he waited.

For someone strong enough to give it to him.

He wasn't a coward. He wasn't looking for an easy way out.

If he was going to die, he wanted it to mean something.

So he trained.

Not to survive.

But to make sure that when death came… it had to try.

Still, he thought once he awakened, things would change.

Back then, nobody strong came after him.

Not because they feared him.

But because they weren't allowed to.

The Demon King had made it law—awakened couldn't attack the unawakened.

So even if he wanted to fight with someone stronger,

No one came.

He thought awakening would break that leash and he could finally fight someone strong and die.

But fate had other plans.

It always did.

He awakened a flaw.

One so perfectly ironic it almost felt personal.

[Willbound].

A passive flaw that made it harder for him to die.

Not because it healed him or protected him. But because it chained him to life.

He couldn't give up, ask for death or even make choices that would lead directly to it.

Even if his soul begged for it, his body would keep moving until he couldn't move anymore.

His flaw made sure he lived.

No matter how much he didn't want to.

And now, as he stood before an Eldritch monster with one arm gone, half his body broken and grey blood soaking the ground, he found himself confused.

The thing shouldn't still be alive.

Both its arms were gone. One of its legs had been severed. Its insides spilled like a rotting fruit and yet… it moved.

No, it crawled.

Bit by bit.

"Why are you trying so hard?"

His voice was soft.

The monster had no voice… or maybe even mind.

So, why does it struggle so much to survive even in such agony?

Isn't it easy to just give up?

Was it just instinct?

Or was it something more?

He didn't know.

His own body was even worse than the monster.

Grey blood poured from everywhere. His right arm was gone—corrupted and devoured by the monster.

Along with it, the storage ring that held his potions, weapons… and any chance at healing.

And yet, his flaw didn't let him fall.

It made him stand.

Even when every nerve screamed.

Even when his vision blurred.

Even when the only thing left inside him was pain and exhaustion.

His instincts still wanted to survive.

Just like the monster.

In the end, they weren't so different.

He raised his sword in a clean motion.

The head fell.

"May you find peace, at least."

With those words, he turned.

He didn't know what to do next.

He had lost a lot of blood. There were no healing potions… So how was he supposed to survive?

He just wanted to sit down and gaze at the sky as death slowly embraced him but… his damn flaw didn't let him do that…

… because there was still one path of survival.

A single golden thread guided him forward to something which could save his life.

He didn't know what it was nor did he care.

His foot slipped in blood, but he didn't fall.

He couldn't yet.

One stumbling step after another… the will kept him going until he felt a shift.

A warm feeling spread in his vision but he couldn't see… his vision had gone completely dark.

But he could feel the thread closing in.

Just a few more steps.

But before he could walk anymore, his legs gave up.

He fell to the ground with a thud.

Yet, his flaw didn't let him rest.

So he crawled. Dragging himself forward with his one remaining arm, like a baby before learning to walk.

Each movement slower than the last.

Until, with one final push, his body collapsed into something warm.

Water?

But something was strange.

This water didn't drown him.

No.

This water embraced him warmly.

Like an embrace that whispered: "You did well, my child."

And as the warmth closed around him, he wondered…

Is this what death felt like?

He didn't know the answer as his eyes closed, finally giving in to the temptation of rest.

—

Meanwhile somewhere else a crimson furred bear walked across a river bank with a pitch black cloak fluttering on his back.

Bearlo was on a mission.

A personal request from his liege.

Find a cave and retrieve the artifact there.

And for the last two days, Bearlo had searched without pause…

… and yet, there had been no results as if the cave didn't exist at all.

But Bearlo didn't question.

He didn't doubt.

Rael had asked and that was enough.

Because if his liege believed it was out there, then it was and Bearlo would find it.

Just then the cloak on his back stopped fluttering.

It was the signal they had decided when it felt a presence… or a trap.

Bearlo stopped immediately and shifted into a fighting stance without any hesitation.

An arrow flew through the air, straight for his face.

But the cloak reacted first.

It pulled him sideways, like a silent guardian.

He didn't resist as the arrow sliced past his cheek, close enough to kiss fur but leaving nothing behind but wind.

His head shifted toward the direction of the attacker as he saw them.

Orcs.

Three of them.

And with them were seven goblin archers.

Bearlo didn't rush in blindly, instead he analysed the terrain.

The monsters had the high ground.

From there, the goblins had clear range… and elevation.

They wanted him to rush.

They were counting on it and he knew exactly what would happen if he did.

A dozen arrows at once.

His fur shredded, his movement slowed.

Death, not from the orcs' blades but from a thousand paper cuts delivered by cowards hiding behind range.

He exhaled slowly.

No… charging would be suicide.

But before the next attack came,

All ten monsters froze, before dropping on the ground like puppets whose strings had been cut all at once.

Something had attacked them from behind.

And then, through the still forest mist…

She appeared.

A woman.

In her hand, she held a scythe.

Her white hair glowed like a moonlight completely contrasting the obsidian horns on her head.

And her serpentine crimson eyes were now focused on Bearlo.

He recognized her.

His liege had warned him about her.

Without a moment's hesitation, Bearlo reached into his storage ring—the one his liege had personally handed him before entering the second layer and pulled out a single item.

At that exact moment, the scythe stopped inches away from his throat.

Close enough for him to feel the cold hum of death.

"If you spare me," Bearlo said in the most polite tone imaginable, "I will offer you… ten chocolates, Miss."

—

Thirty minutes later…

Bearlo sprinted away through the trees, cloak fluttering behind him.

Everything had gone exactly as his liege predicted.

He remembered the warning clearly:

"If you see a white-haired woman with obsidian horns, run and if you can't… offer her chocolate. And if nothing works… use teleportation charm to escape."

He hadn't understood the words back then but now as he ran did he understood…

Her strength was two minor ranks higher than him and yet…

And yet…

Bearlo knew, even if he somehow reached that level,

No.

Even if he surpassed it…

He still wouldn't stand a chance against her.

There was no technique to counter the danger he felt from her.

Thankfully, the woman let him go after he offered her the chocolates.

—

Meanwhile, the woman in question sat on a rock by river side with the same detached gaze as always.

Her expression was as neutral as ever but in her hand held a single chocolate bar with the name "Impericano" printed on it.

The same brand the human had offered her before she entered the forest.

She didn't care about the bear who had fled moments ago.

She didn't care why he ran, or what it meant.

It wasn't important.

What mattered was the taste.

The chocolate pressed against her tongue, slightly bitter at first then came the sweetness.

Just then, a fireball came flying toward her.

She didn't flinch.

Without a word, she slipped the half-eaten chocolate back into the pocket of her coat.

The fireball collided with her body, only to vanish into thin air, as if it had been swallowed by something far colder than flame.

Then, she turned.

Her gaze lifted toward the direction of the attacker.

Twenty or so candidates surrounded her.

She recognised the two of the attackers standing at the front.

They were her half siblings.

She didn't remember their name.

The one in front took a step forward with a smile on his face.

"Long time no see, sister," he said,

"I couldn't find that bastard Noah." He said touching his right arm slightly. "But at least I found you."

She blinked once before her scythe appeared in her hand.

—

Author's Note:

And in case anyone forgot:

Yep, the half-sibling showing up here? The same unlucky soul who got his arm sliced clean off by Noah. Poor guy really just signed up for his own suffering arcs 😂

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