Where... am I?
I don't know. Everything's just white. Like thick mist wrapped around the world. I can't see anything, just this endless white stretching in every direction. The pain that had been tearing through me earlier... it's gone.
Which doesn't make sense.
I remember the kicks, the hits, every crack of bone like fire in my veins. But even with all that, he never aimed to kill me. Every time he struck, he avoided my vital points. It's like he wanted me alive. To suffer longer.
I was slumped over on the white floor. Cold, smooth, unreal. My hands scraped against it as I pushed myself up, first on my arms, then onto my knees, and finally sat upright.
I looked down at my palms. No blood. But... wait. They looked bigger. Way too big for a five-year-old's hands.
I scanned over my body. My chest. My legs. My arms.
No... this isn't my kid body anymore. I look like a full-grown youth now. Almost like how I was before. And the outfit I'm wearing, it's not from Ashford Barony. It's my old dueling suit. Jet black. The one I wore in real fights.
Am I back in this body?
No way... Xavier's body had already died.
Then a voice, sharp and cracked, hissed from the side.
"Now, this is interesting," it said.
I turned, still sitting. My body tensed automatically.
It was him. The hooded man. That freaking metal piece of shit.
Only now... the hood was gone.
His metallic skin was pitch black, like midnight forged into metal. Lines of dim blue light pulsed across his body like glowing veins. His eyes were a piercing, unnatural blue. Bald head, smooth like polished obsidian.
And right in the center of his forehead, there is a third eye. Deep ocean blue, fully awake. A mind eye?
"I didn't expect to see a grown-up in my domain," he said, tilting his head. His voice dragged like a whisper over broken glass. "Hey. Answer me. You're that boy, right?"
I stood up slowly, glaring at him.
He studied me for a second. "So, you were just disguised as a boy," he muttered.
I rolled my neck, a loud crack echoing into the white void. Damn, my muscles are stiff.
"Where am I?" I asked. "No, scratch that. Who the hell are you?"
Surprisingly, he actually answered. "First question, this is my mind domain."
I narrowed my eyes. "Ah...Is that so?"
He grinned, sharp and smug. "And for the second question, ever heard of the Children of the Hollow?"
GOD DAMN IT.
My eye twitched. Just for a second. But he noticed.
He smirked wider, his teeth bright and sharp. "So, you do know."
"And now that I've answered your questions," he said, taking a slow step forward, "it's my turn. Tell me... who are you?"
I shrugged. "Who knows?"
Like hell I would tell. You damn psychopath.
Then I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
A blinding stab tore through my chest, and I coughed blood, thick, metallic.
My eyes drifted down.
A hand. A black, inhuman hand had pierced through my back and was now holding my heart right in front of me, pulsing and raw.
What the hell?
The hand slid out, slow and cruel, leaving a massive hole in my chest.
And yet... he hadn't moved. Just standing where he was.
Then who did this?
"GAAH!" I gasped, dropping to my knees.
It hurt. It really freaking hurt. But I didn't die.
Instead, the wound slowly began to close, skin stitching back like time reversing itself. The man chuckled, his voice slithering with glee. "You better answer next time."
He leaned in slightly.
"Cause you won't die here. But... you'll feel everything. And for spells, you won't be able to use any of those in my domain."
Who the heck pierced a hole in a man, just because they didn't answer? this guy is sick in the head.
But he wasn't lying.
There was no mana here. Not even a flicker. It felt like this white dungeon swallowed everything, sound, color, even magic. I couldn't sense a single trace of outer mana… and even worse, I couldn't feel the mana inside me either.
This was Xavier's body, no doubt. But my mana core? Gone. My soul beast? Not a whisper. It was like I'd been gutted from the inside.
What the hell is this place?
I stood up.
"Well...I'm the god," I said, like I owned the place.
And then, RIP!
My arm was torn clean off.
"ARGH-!!" I screamed, again dropping to one knee, clutching my shoulder as blood poured like a damn waterfall. Thick. Hot. Real.
The bastard didn't even blink.
"I want answers. Not nonsense," he said, like he wasn't the one ripping limbs off people for fun.
Damn this bald freak...
But I gave him the truth. I was called the God of War. Was I not?
I watched as my arm started growing back, muscle, skin, veins twisting like vines. I really didn't wanna watch it, but I couldn't look away either. It was disgusting. Like something out of a nightmare stitched with magic.
Ugh. Way too gross.
"Hey, I wonder..." I said aloud, forcing a grin. "If my head gets chopped off, will my body grow a new head, or will the severed head grow a new body?"
Yeah, I was actually curious.
He smiled. That creepy, too-calm kind of smile.
"Let me show you."
And he did.
I didn't even feel it.
Just darkness. Like the lights were yanked out of existence. Then I heard something thud. My body, probably.
Moments later, my eyes blinked open.
My vision was blurry, but I could see the white mist around me again. Slowly, it cleared, and I realized I was... whole. Back in my body.
My clothes were still the same, ripped where my chest had been torn open earlier, and the sleeve of my right arm was still shredded.
Guess that answers it.
The body grows a new head.
"Will that answer your question?" the bald bastard asked, smiling like he just handed me a damn birthday present.
I rolled my shoulders with a sigh. "Yeah... thanks, I guess."
Baldie narrowed his glowing eyes. "You are… insane."
Eh? Am I?
I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow. "You sure? I don't feel insane."
"By the way-"
I couldn't even finish the sentence.
SHLNK!
My gut split open. No, my whole damn body got sliced in half. Right at the waist. One second, I was standing; the next, my upper body flopped backward like a ragdoll.
"-what's your favorite color?" I finished my sentence flatly, right before I hit the ground with a heavy thud.
The cut half, my legs and everything below vanished into thin air, like it was never even there.
Damn that freaking hurt.
I groaned, watching as my body began to regrow itself. Bone first. Then the muscle. Skin. Nerves. All of it crawling back like cursed vines.
Can I get some damn clothes while we're at it?
Of course not. The regrowth didn't bother restoring my pants. Freaking baldie. Does he not understand what personal space means?
I sighed, snatched my jacket off, and wrapped it around my waist like some green orc fashion disaster.
"Tch. I don't have spare clothes, you know…" I muttered, glaring at him from under my bangs.
Baldie's smile disappeared.
"I advise you not to play with me," he said coldly. His voice no longer had that taunting hiss. It was just… steel.
Good.
I smirked.