Aimless Ascension

On the day I acted on my plan, I went on my walk like any regular day, but unlike most days, I didn't get captured easily.

Instead, I chose a lonely corner and bruised myself all over. I made it so that my skin looked red easily with blood smeared all over. For that, I only cut a part of my waist and smeared the blood all over the bruises to make the wounds look more real and terrible. I punched myself in the face a few times, imprinting them as Kiln's work.

I've had enough experience already to know how to look right when you're wounded like that every day. When I was satisfied with my preparation, I limped my way out towards the direction of my room. Theodore was around there usually.

I didn't need to look at the most pitiable thing before his eyes, but just a usual pitiable fellow. I was pretty sure this Oldman had dealt with dozens of my kind that had been kidnapped to this underground facility.

Well, I'm one like them, pitiful and powerless.

So I came before the elderly man, limping all the way, squirming at every motion. I found him staring at me, but I ignored him as if I hadn't seen him, or was beaten so badly that I couldn't see clearly.

Theodore clicked his tongue, watching me limp towards one corner. He strode towards me, muttering something under his breath.

I fell on the floor before I could reach the corner and yelped. I rolled on the ground pitifully, trying to crawl forward, weeping with my best performance to date.

But my mind was a total mess with anxiety.

'This isn't going to work.' My mind was filled with negative thoughts. This old man had seen plenty of the likes of me. He could easily see through my acting.

I was horrified at the notion of my failure, but I still kept at it. My ears buzzed with each step the old man was taking towards me.

He came before me like another day and didn't act any kinder than usual. He brought one of those blue vials out of his robes and shook it in his palm.

Turns out I was worried about nothing. The Oldman was exactly as he looked, much to my benefit. Old and dull. He wasn't nearly sharp enough to catch my play.

Theodore stooped down, opened the vial, and was about to pour it in my mouth when I leapt at him with everything I had. Well, with my pitiable strength and a somewhat larger-than-a-fist-sized stone in my palm.

I rammed the stone into his head with all my power, my knee thrusting into his guts.

I didn't know what I struck, but it felt like I hit the stem of a tree. But Theodore wasn't out of any reaction. He yelped as blood poured out of his head from where I hit him with the stone.

The potion had already flung away from his hand in the conflict, but that wasn't his concern. I was hitting him with the stone incessantly, with no second thought.

None other than my freedom.

Like I said, I wouldn't mind becoming a killer if I could get out of this hell.

However, I was terribly naïve to believe that I could escape from here like this. I didn't have the slightest clue where I was, nor who and what these people were. Yes, they had introduced to me magical items like the potion that could heal broken bones easily, but I wasn't in the right state of mind to consider they had something more.

On my fifth attempt to hit the Oldman with the stone, I encountered something hard. It was as if I had rammed the stone into the stone wall. I realised nothing at first and continued to hit the Oldman, but as I continued, the reaction from the Oldman became mute.

My first impression was that I made it. I killed the oldman. I became a killer.

Then finally I saw his eyes, blazing with coldness as he stared down at me even though I was on top of him.

The next moment, I was in the air. An invisible force struck me and flung me dozens of metres, convulsing me inside. My world tilted as my back broke, colliding against the wall with force.

The invisible force hadn't withdrawn, though. It fastened me to the spot. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn't lift even a finger.

The Oldman stood up and cleaned his robes to creep towards me. He had changed back to his usual self, though the eyes were still cold, gawking at me.

"La ama soarishka," the old man told me and kicked me on the head to make me unconscious.

So that's how my first real attempt at escape went. You two probably thought I would manage something miraculous using my otherworldly wit or something.

But the reality was merciless. I didn't even come close. All my effort at getting beaten up and memorising the paths meant nothing against the sheer force I was stuck with.

In a way, life was like that. You try your best with what you have and hope it will work. Sometimes you made it, sometimes you hit the hall.

Even ignoring the marvellous power the Oldman showed me—the power I still thought to be impossible at that point—my plan was terribly hollow.

Even if I killed the Oldman there, I wouldn't have gone much further.

I was a child back then, playing on the turf and the rules of adults. Worse, I wasn't even aware of most of the rules.

Of course, they would leave me like a lamb to butcher. With the sheer power they held, I was but a helpless rat to them.

However, this suffering wasn't for nothing. That was the first time I gazed upon the power of this world. It was unbelievable.

I couldn't understand it, but I knew at that moment I wanted it for myself.