NOVEL WEB Chapter 13: Nightmare
Kael saw… 'Emma' again.
No.
She looked like his mother—same face, same build—
… but she wasn't.
There had been no gentle smile—none of the warmth he used to crave.
Her all-black eyes stared—uncanny, still, and surreal.
What ... is this?
"Patron."
The woman's voice reverberated like a tremor through his chest, shaking the rhythm of his heart. Kael gasped for air.
The word rang in his mind, and then—his eyes widened.
"Correct."
A Patron—the next stage beyond the Dream of Destiny. If the Dream granted Origin Magic, then a Patron brought a true evolution. A leap.
It was something only legends received—chosen heroes, blessed by the Sky Authorities themselves.
People completely unlike him.
"You carry an … intriguing 'scent'."
What?
"A foreign smell I've never encountered before. Something that doesn't belong to earth or the heaven. So it's true—you're from another world?"
The chill at the base of Kael's neck deepened. He searched for a response.
"... No need. I already know the answer."
She took a step forward. "Not that it matters right now."
Kael's body refused to move. His voice barely came out. "Did I do something wrong? Cross some kind of boundary?"
He'd said reckless things. Accepted Thalia's offer without hesitation. Considered something silly like Ashborn's glory.
But the woman just scoffed. "To hell with rules. There's something far more interesting to discuss."
She stopped directly in front of him and stared deep into his eyes. "Tell me—do you find pain… enjoyable?"
What—?
And like a whipcrack to the mind, memories of Renwick breaking him—not once, but twice—played on repeat.
Phantom pain pulsed through Kael's body.
As fear and helplessness crept in, the woman stared at him, expression unreadable but daring. Waiting.
Kael wanted to say something clever, something safe. But he was never good with words.
And he hated lying now more than ever.
"…It was horrible," he said through clenched teeth. "Those bastards don't deserve mercy. I'll make them suffer for what they did. I'll crush them. I—
"…I just want it to stop."
"Even if that pain could make you stronger?"
Kael glared at her, voice sharper than ever. "Are you deaf? Do I look like someone who wants to get stronger?"
Maybe he did. But—
"Screw power. Screw the pain. Screw all of this."
"Then what? You'll just lie down and let them walk over you? Let your revenge rot away?"
"I won't! I— I just need time. If I had more time, more preparation—"
SLAP!
The hit rocked his head sideways. "Pathetic. More time? Or just more excuses?"
SLAP!
"This isn't the first time, is it? You always say the same thing. You dream about fighting back, but you never do.
" 'He's too strong. I'm not ready. I need this job. I need to wait'."
Kael's breath caught. "How… how much do you know about me?"
The woman smiled.
A smile that ripped open her cheeks—revealing blood, pus, worms writhing from the corners of her mouth.
"As much as you remember."
She gripped his shoulders, leaned in with a decaying face, and whispered in a twisted vibration:
"What, did that make you scared?"
Kael couldn't breathe.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed, gasping.
Her voice echoed everywhere—in his head, in the air, in the very bones of the world around him.
"You play the tragic hero. The rebel. The one who defies fate.
"But when things turn ugly—you run.
"You blame others.
"You blame the world.
"... you become a coward."
In that madness, Kael hugged himself.
Shivering. Shrinking.
Cold air clung to his bare skin like a burial shroud.
Fear. Confusion. Pain.
"…What am I supposed to do?" he whispered. "How do I escape this pain?"
Her voice shifted.
Soft. Gentle. Familiar.
Emma's voice.
"You don't."
The world stilled.
"You'll carry pain for the rest of your life. It won't stop. It won't fade. It'll never end.
"So instead of running…
" … why not use it?"
Kael's vision returned—Renwick's towering form standing over him.
Then the system messages began.
"Seek the pain. Wield the pain. Love the pain…"
[Suffering converted into Karma Points]
[You've gained 5000 Karma Points]
[You've purchased 50 free Attribute Points. 5000 Karma deducted.]
[Adding 50 points to Strength?]
[50 Attribute Points added to Strength]
[Your Strength is now "EXCEPTIONAL"]
[New Passive Skill Unlocked: "Iron Fist"]
"…and maybe then, you'll be free of it."
#
Renwick stared blankly at the Ashborn.
Pathetic.
That might as well apply to himself. He had been Gideon Halbrecht's loyal dog for the past three years, and right now felt like the most humiliating point of that entire tenure.
The Halbrecht clan—ancient, storied, forged in wars—had once brought glory to the realm with every battle they led.
That was why they were admired. That was why they held a permanent seat as royal advisor.
And what have they become now?
Two years ago, Renwick had witnessed it for the first time: when the so-great young master Gideon beat his own Fated Ones.
And sometimes, Gideon even told him to help.
Can you imagine? The golden boy, the one that supposed to inherited ancient-heroic House Halbrecht's throne, needing another hand just to beat a girl?
The thought made Renwick nauseous. But Gideon always reminded him—
That House Vale had sworn eternal loyalty. That their duty was to protect House Halbrecht. To follow them—into hell, if need be.
Renwick had no other choice.
It was the same when Gideon ordered him to beat up these Ashborn brats.
Not that he pitied them, but ... it felt like beating a toddler.
No satisfaction. Just guilt.
I should probably ask Mr. Hazu for another dose of sedatives later.
Renwick glanced down at the Ashborn and scoffed. Gideon had told him to break every limb.
But even if this guy was an Ashborn, he was still Edwyn Vyle's son.
And Edwyn—regardless of what the royal family or the Cathedral thought of him—was a dangerous man.
Renwick wasn't about to risk pissing him off..
"You're lucky," he muttered, practically spitting the words. "Take this as a warning. Don't mess with Lord Halbrecht again. Or anything he owns."
He turned and headed for the door, ready to be done with this—
Until a hand grabbed his ankle.
He clicked his tongue. Seriously?
He instantly regretted showing mercy.
"Stop this pathetic act before I change my mind."
He yanked his foot back, breaking free from the weak grasp—
… except it wasn't weak.
Huh?
His leg suddenly felt heavy. Had the aftereffects of Amelia's Restoration Magic already worn off? I should've stayed longer with her last night.
He'd have to visit her again after this. Take her hand. Kiss her. Or more. Hopefully she wasn't too busy.
Maybe she was at the archery club. That was only a five-minute walk—
Huh—
And the world flipped, his world.
His back hit the floor with a bone-rattling slam.
What the—
Before he could piece it together, he saw Kael Vyle—trembling, bloodied—standing above him.
Hand still gripping Renwick's leg.
Did this bastard just slam me?
No way. He'd broken his leg earlier—he was sure of it.
"... It hurts."
"What?"
"I said it HURTS."
The voice was raw—shaking, almost feral. More growl than words.
The punch flew like a bullet—and Renwick heard something crack.
No—
Something snapped.
Pain exploded in Renwick's face. His nose, his jaw—his tongue nearly bit itself off from the shock. "You son of—"
Another strike—this time, to the throat.
And another.
And another.
Three. Four. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred.
"IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!"
Throat. Nose. Solar plexus. The space between his eyes.. Eye sockets.
Renwick could hear screams—his screams.
Through blurred vision, he caught his reflection in a mirror.
That wasn't a person beating him anymore.
It was a beast—mauling him, rending him apart.
And Renwick's body began to tremble.