Heir to Nothing

Morning came.

Light spilled through the narrow window, casting pale rays across the floor.

I was already awake.

No... I hadn't slept. Not after what happened last night.

My body felt heavy, but I stood from the bed anyway. I was still wearing my armor—never took it off. It clung to me like a second skin, cold and suffocating.

I stepped into the washroom, peeled the armor off piece by piece, and washed myself in silence.

Then I returned to the room, changed into my training uniform, and looked at the katana resting by the wall.

The blade still wore the blood of last night's kill.

I walked over, picked it up, and sat down. Slowly, carefully, I began wiping the steel with a wet cloth—again and again until every trace of red was gone.

Only then did I set it aside. Clean. Stainless. Like it had never cut anything at all.

I went back to the washroom to rinse the cloth, then turned to the small mirror Liana had given me a month ago.

It was barely large enough to show my face—just enough.

What I saw made me pause.

Dark circles under my eyes. Hair messy and dull. No shine on my face. No life in my expression.

I looked like a homeless vagabond. Like someone who had just crawled out of a grave.

"Liana's gonna worry again," I muttered to myself with a tired smile.

She'd definitely nag me. Ask if I was overtraining. Call me stupid. Try to help.

The thought almost made me laugh.

I grabbed the comb, straightened my hair, and sat on the edge of the bed—waiting for her.

Not for training. Not for a fight.

Just for a familiar face.

Someone who would remind me I hadn't lost myself completely.

Not yet.

A knock came. Soft. Three taps.

Right on time.

The door creaked open, and Liana stepped in, carrying a tray of breakfast with that same calm grace she always had.

"As punctual as ever," I said, managing a faint smile.

"Someone has to be," she replied, setting the tray on the small table. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I echoed, a little quieter.

She sat at the edge of the bed, across from me. Her eyes scanned my face—quietly, carefully.

"You look like hell," she said flatly.

"I didn't sleep."

She raised a brow. "Let me guess. Training?"

I paused. "…Something like that."

She didn't press. Maybe she remembered from past conversations that I never talked about things I didn't want to share. So, she let it go.

"You know," she said, picking up a piece of bread, "most normal people sleep when it's dark."

"Normal people aren't fighting through hell every day or getting kicked in the jaw by Daren," I muttered, sipping the water.

She nodded. "Fair. But even the strongest rest when they can."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Silence followed. Not heavy. Just… still.

Then her gaze lingered on me a little longer.

"You sure you're okay?"

My grip tightened around the cup. For a second, I didn't answer. Then—

"…I am now."

She didn't smile. Just gave a quiet nod and turned back to eating.

After breakfast, she took the tray and left for her duties.

I was back on the training field with Daren, John, and Nicholas.

They didn't notice anything.

No strange looks. No questions. No shift in their tone.

Only Liana had sensed something was wrong.

I smiled to myself.

"What's with that look?" Nicholas asked. "Don't tell me… is it about your girlfriend?"

I gave him a flat stare. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Sure, sure," he said with a smirk. "Keep lying to yourself."

John chimed in, grinning. "Well, if she's not your girlfriend… maybe I should give it a try."

I blinked. "What the hell did you just say?"

He raised both hands, grinning like an idiot. "What? She's cute."

"Keep dreaming," I said. "You'll never get a girl."

"Why not?" he laughed. "I'm not that bad."

"Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?" I asked. "Even goblins have better odds than you."

Nicholas and Daren burst out laughing.

John looked like I'd slapped him. "You little bastard! Just 'cause you're pretty doesn't give you the right to roast the rest of us."

"You're not just average," I said, walking off. "You're below average."

He sputtered behind me, trying to come up with a comeback.

I didn't let him.

I was already focused on the drills.

But for the first time since last night… I was laughing.

And the weight pressing on my chest felt just a little lighter.

The day passed in routine.

Training. Sparring. Aura circulation. Drills.

Dinner came, and I ate with Liana again. She smiled more than usual today, clearly relieved that I was "back to normal." I gave her that illusion.

But I wasn't back.

Not really.

Because the forest still called me.

And I intended to answer.

---

Night fell.

I strapped on my armor in silence, blade in hand, and slipped into the shadows once more—using the same route I'd carved beneath the wall. The path was familiar now. So was the chill in the air.

But something had changed.

I wasn't trembling this time.

My steps were steady.

Focused.

Determined.

The forest welcomed me like an old friend—still dark, still dangerous, still indifferent to my presence.

I returned to the same place I'd stopped the night before—the clearing where I'd killed the fox.

The blood was still there.

But the body was gone.

No sign of the kits, either.

Maybe they were hiding.

Or maybe they'd become food for something stronger.

Either way… I didn't linger.

I took a slow breath, eyes hard, and moved deeper into the forest.

This time, my goal was clear—twenty kilometers. I needed to cover more ground, check for any signs of a dungeon forming.

The forest stretched endlessly ahead. Trees twisted like skeletal giants, and the wind hissed through the branches like a warning I'd learned to ignore.

Two hours passed.

Nothing.

No dungeon. No strange mana signature. No twisted wildlife.

Just more of the same oppressive silence.

I marked my path with subtle signs—scratches on bark, loose stones moved slightly out of place—then turned back.

I reached the fortress close to 3:30 AM.

Took off my armor. Dropped onto the bed.

Training started at six.

Two and a half hours of sleep.

That would have to be enough.

---

Morning.

A knock, then a voice.

"Wake up, Kael."

Liana.

My eyes snapped open.

Damn.

She must've noticed I hadn't woken up. Again.

I stumbled out of bed, grabbed a piece of bread from the tray she left, and ran.

Chewing between breaths, I sprinted through the hallways. My boots echoed loudly against the stone as I dashed toward the training ground.

Everyone else was already there.

The instructor was giving orders on the far side.

I slowed my pace, slipped silently into the back row with the other trainees—hoping no one noticed.

Of course, someone noticed.

Nicholas jogged up beside me during drills, smirking.

"Late today, Kael?"

I took a bite of the bread. "Overslept. Liana woke me up. If she hadn't, I'd still be in bed."

He laughed. "Lucky you."

Then came John, with his usual smug tone. "Oh? So now she's even waking you up? What were you two doing that kept you up so late?"

I didn't flinch. "Training."

He groaned. "You're no fun, you know that?"

I didn't reply.

He walked off.

I focused back on the drills, the strain in my muscles, the sting in my palms as the wooden sword cracked against Daren's. The ache in my bones was grounding—reminding me that even if the world out there wanted me dead…

I was still here.

Still standing.

Still moving forward.

And I'd do it again tonight.

Again and again.

Until I found that dungeon.

Until I could kill without guilt.

Until I stopped trembling.

Night fell once more.

And like always, I returned to the forest.

But this time, I wasn't moving slow.

There was no hesitation in my steps—only purpose.

Tonight wasn't about testing fear.

It was about results.

I took a different path this time—one that branched east from the old trail. I'd studied it on the fortress maps. The terrain was uneven, a little more overgrown, but it ran along the edge of the outer perimeter.

I'd already wasted too much time exploring nothing.

I had to cover more ground—and fast.

I left the fortress exactly at 11 PM. Gave myself a two-hour window. I needed to be back by 1:30 at the latest, asleep by 2, so I could get at least four hours of rest before morning drills.

I'd even skipped mana training today.

Didn't circulate aura.

Didn't practice breathing techniques.

Every second was precious.

So I moved fast—but not reckless.

Eyes wide. Ears sharp. Blade ready.

I walked like a predator tonight, not prey.

The air was colder than usual, and the trees in this direction were taller, older—twisting together like gnarled limbs trying to choke the sky.

But my footsteps were steady.

This forest didn't scare me the same way it used to.

It still demanded respect. Still promised death if I slipped.

But I wasn't here to run.

I was here to find something.

And if the dungeon really was forming out here—then signs had to show eventually.

Weird mana.

Distorted air.

Unnatural beasts.

Anything.

My breath came in even draws. My eyes scanned every inch of the terrain—watching for oddities: dead zones, corrupted plants, abnormal silence.

So far… nothing.

But I kept moving.

Time was short.

And the deeper I went tonight…

The closer I felt I was getting to something.

Something wasn't right in this direction.