Condemned to Death (High Fantasy/ Anti-Hero)

Seren stepped out of the examination hall, the afternoon sun warming his face. The air outside felt lighter than the suffocating atmosphere inside.

His friends rushed toward him.

"How'd it go?" Nike asked eagerly.

"They asked some questions, then had me touch the stone," Seren replied.

Rosy snorted. "Yeah, the stone's a joke. Felt like any other rock."

Nike frowned. "No glowing? No magic?"

"Nothing," Rosy said. "It's supposed to be special, right?"

Seren hummed in thought.

"Well, we won't know until tomorrow," Nike stretched. "Might as well do something while we wait."

Samir perked up. "Let's play ball! The tests will take forever."

The group grinned, racing to the yard.

…

The sun dipped low, streaking the sky in red and orange. Shadows stretched across the courtyard, a cool breeze carrying distant chatter.

"Go long!" Nike shouted, kicking the ball.

Rosy chased after it while Seren stood by, watching with mild amusement as Samir lined up his turn.

Then—

Thud!

Samir kicked too hard. The ball sailed over the eastern wall of the orphanage.

"Damn it!" Nike groaned.

They stared in silence, watching the ball go.

"Well," Rosy muttered, crossing her arms. "That's gone forever."

Before they could act, the front doors creaked open.

Madam Beth stepped outside, scowl in place.

"All children, return to your houses! The results will be announced tomorrow!"

The yard fell silent.

As Beth disappeared, the children groaned, muttering as they left.

Nike nudged Seren. "What about the ball?"

Samir shifted guiltily. "I didn't mean to kick it that hard."

Rosy sighed. "We'll have to get a new one. No way we're getting that back."

Seren shook his head. "I'll get it."

His friends gaped.

"Are you crazy?" Rosy hissed. "That's the orphanage side! If Beth catches you—"

"She won't," Seren said simply.

Nike frowned. "Still, it's risky."

Seren nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Just don't get caught," Rosy muttered, following the others inside.

Seren watched them leave, then turned toward the building.

Time to move.

…

He moved silently through the shadows.

The orphanage was massive—a network of walkways and buildings. The eastern section, where the ball had landed, was off-limits, where Beth and the keepers spent most of their time.

Seren had been here before. He knew where the blind spots were.

He ducked behind crates as two caretakers passed, deep in conversation.

"A merchant is coming next week."

"Another? The last batch should've been enough."

"Not for the rich. You'd be surprised what they'll pay."

Seren ignored their words, slipping further into the shadows.

Finally, he spotted the ball near a stack of old barrels.

He bent down, reaching—

Then, voices.

Seren froze.

Muffled murmurs came from a nearby open window.

Slowly, he pressed against the wall, inching closer.

Through the slightly open door, he saw them.

The old man and Madam Beth.

Inside the dimly lit room, the old man sat comfortably in his chair, his fingers lazily tapping against the wooden table. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across his wrinkled face.

Madam Beth stood near the shelves, flipping through a stack of papers, her expression as sour as ever.

"The merchant from the East sent word," the old man said idly, tapping a finger against the table. "Says the last batch wasn't worth what he paid."

Madam Beth scoffed. "That bastard always complains. What, were they not obedient enough? Too scrawny?"

"Something like that," the old man mused. "Apparently, one of the girls tried to run on the second night. Had to be put down."

Madam Beth let out a sharp snort of amusement. "Didn't even last two days? Weak little thing."

"That's what I told him," the old man chuckled, shaking his head. "But you know how these people are. They want perfect, quiet little dolls that won't cause trouble."

'What…?'

Seren's brows furrowed.

'What are they talking about?'

Madam Beth rolled her eyes. "Then he shouldn't be buying starving brats from an orphanage."

The old man waved a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter. He's still filling our pockets."

He reached for his cup of tea, taking a slow sip, his tone calm, almost lazy. "And the selections?"

Madam Beth nodded. "Finalized. Some will be sold as house servants, others as slaves… and the rest for different purposes."

She flipped another page. "The wealthiest families from our client list also made their requests for this year. The ones with Law Beasts need food for their creatures. They like feeding them fresh meat—says it strengthens the beasts."

The old man chuckled. "Filthy animals. More expensive to keep than an entire household of servants."

Seren's breath froze.

'Slaves? Food?'

His body locked up, his mind racing to process what he had just heard.

'No. That can't be right.'

'This is an orphanage. A place for abandoned children… right?'

His stomach twisted. He swallowed hard, feeling something tighten in his chest.

And then—

"What about the ones with aptitude?" Madam Beth asked.

The old man placed his cup down, tapping the table again.

"The boy, Seren, was quite interesting."

Seren's heart skipped a beat.

"I even had my doubts," the old man continued, "but it turns out he does have the aptitude to become a Lexarch."

A slow, quiet exhale of relief slipped from Seren's lips.

'So they won't sell me like the others…'

But before the feeling could settle—

"It's a shame," the old man added, swirling the tea in his cup lazily. "I liked the kid."

Seren stiffened.

The old man clicked his tongue, as if remembering something. "That foreign priest is still looking, by the way."

Madam Beth looked up. "The one paying absurd amounts?"

The old man nodded. "The same. He's been searching for a very… specific child."

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "Crimson eyes. Seven years old. High aptitude. Foreign blood. Strange mannerisms." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "Sound familiar?"

Madam Beth raised an eyebrow. "That does match the Seren kid."

Seren's skin prickled.

'A priest… tried to adopt me?'

"Exactly." The old man let out a long sigh. "The priest was so eager he tried to take him last year. Came all the way out here, demanding an adoption on the spot."

Madam Beth scoffed. "What kind of priest tries to snatch up a child like that?"

"A desperate one." The old man tapped his fingers idly against the table. "I had to tell him we don't allow adoptions under seven. He didn't like that much."

Madam Beth rolled her eyes. "Maybe he's just here to spread his faith or something."

The old man let out a quiet snort. "In this wasteland? We don't even worship any god here. No temples, no shrines, nothing. He had no reason to come to a place like this."

His fingers drummed against the wooden surface. "Still… if he's willing to pay, I don't mind selling the boy to him. Religious nuts or not, money is money."

'So he's selling me in the end…'

Seren's fists clenched, nails digging into his palms.

The old man exhaled, shaking his head. "But the man's persistence is irritating. He even poked around in our business, threatening to spill everything to the Three Major Families if we didn't sell him Seren."

Madam Beth's lips thinned. "He had the guts to threaten us?"

The old man's smile turned cold. "He did. And yet, here we are. Guess he wasn't as righteous as he claimed to be."

He sighed again, stretching his arms. "Either way, it doesn't matter. I'll sell the boy to the priest in a few days."

Seren's breath was steady—but inside, something had changed.

The old man's words had confirmed everything.

This place wasn't an orphanage.

It was a cattle farm.

He and the others weren't children.

They were livestock, waiting to be sold.

Seren slowly stepped back from the door.

Then—

Laughter.

Low, quiet, dark.

"So that's how it is…" he murmured, his crimson eyes glinting in the candlelight.

A serious look settled on his face as his laughter faded.

'So the boring life is finally over. It's finally beginning'

His gaze darkened.

'And it seems like the religions of this world are aware of me.'

This was unexpected. He had thought he would be able to move in the shadows for a while longer.

'I didn't think my identity would be revealed so soon…'

Seren's jaw tightened slightly.

'I was sent here to fulfill my mission under the command of a foreign God. It only makes sense that the Gods of this world would want to erase me before I could act.'

But… this situation wasn't entirely bad.

'If they truly knew everything about me, I would have been killed long ago.'

For now, he was still safe.

Seren exhaled, his thoughts sharpening.

Right now, he was powerless. A child with nothing—no allies, no resources, no strength to stand on his own.

That would have to change.

But first—

'I should think about how to escape from this cattle farm.'

A cold glint shone in his crimson eyes as he turned his gaze back toward the old man and Madam Beth, still deep in discussion.

Their voices were muffled, their laughter low and casual.

They still believed they were in control.

Seren's lips curled slightly.

Not for long.