After the notification board showed that whatever had been detected was now rejected, Elder Osiris—along with his two beautiful female companions—were left in awe after touching Raze, who was in truth, Donald.
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[ HARMFUL MAGIC HAS BEEN REJECTED ]
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That was the only thing Donald saw after regaining consciousness. He looked pretty worn out, though he didn't show obvious signs of fatigue. Showing such signs would only raise concerns—and questions—questions he himself wouldn't be able to answer.
He stared blankly at the message, not knowing what it meant. What was this magic it spoke of? Was magic even a real thing? He clearly remembered that, where he came from, everyone believed magic was nothing more than a trick performed by lucky, old, skinny, jobless men.
A side hustle for a little cash—and they were so bad at it that even a seven-year-old could do better.
When Elder Osiris had placed his hand on who he assumed was the original Raze Crow, he'd been caught off guard by the sudden and unexpected shift. Unlike before—where at least Raze's energy flickered faintly, proving some magical talent—this time nothing happened.
He'd done everything exactly the same, yet there was no sign of light. Not even the faint glow of a firefly. It was hollow. Empty.
And that was odd—very odd—for someone as renowned in the Crow bloodline as Elder Osiris. He wasn't just some creepy-looking old man who resembled the monsters kids dreamed about in nightmares. He was the oldest and wisest Elder of the Crow bloodline. The one responsible for testing and determining the magical potential of every child born in the clan.
He looked up, his eyes—void of iris, pure white like clouds—open wide. His mouth stretched open as well. What was supposed to happen was simple: as the light emerged, its color would indicate the child's magical strength and affinity.
But this time, he remained like that for some time. And nothing happened.
It was getting worrisome. His two companions noticed it too, but they didn't understand.
"Elder, what do you think may be the problem?" they asked in unison.
"Honestly... I don't know," Elder Osiris replied—but his lips didn't move. His voice simply echoed from within him.
"Maybe if we assist you, we'll be able to test his abilities," one of the women suggested.
"Yes. It may be that his power is too strong for you to perceive. After all, you are not as young as you once were," the other supported her sister's idea.
Elder Osiris snapped out of his trance and locked his gaze on Raze.
"Maybe you're right. Let's not waste any more time. Let's do it now."
The two women clasped each other's hands while keeping their other hands on Elder Osiris's shoulders. Then they began to chant—an ancient language that none of the other Crow bloodline members present, not even Rapunzel or Marcelous, could understand.
"Aze, Azura, Imura, Baduma, Sokuma, Emura, Sakuma, Salem," they muttered.
Strangely, Raze—who was actually Donald—could hear and understand the words perfectly, as if he were fluent. But that shouldn't have been possible, not even for Raze. That language was reserved strictly for the Elders. Only those chosen to become the next Elder were allowed to learn it.
The system took note of this.
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[ ANCIENT LANGUAGE DETECTED ]
[ DO YOU WISH FOR THE SYSTEM TO DECIPHER IT FOR YOU? ]
[ Y/N ]
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The system gave him a choice. And of course, he made one.
"Yes," Donald answered.
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[ LANGUAGE DECIPHERING HAS BEEN INITIATED ]
[ NOTE: SINCE THE USER HASN'T LEVELED UP YET, THIS WILL BE A ONE-TIME THING. ]
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"Fine," Donald muttered. He just wanted to understand what they were saying.
The system did what it had to do—but it came with a price. Suddenly, an irritating, high-pitched shriek pierced through Donald's ears. His head screamed with unimaginable pain.
But he couldn't react. He couldn't risk exposing himself or drawing attention. If he did, he'd be seen as interrupting the ritual. That would only bring more trouble.
He had no choice but to suffer in silence.
His facial expressions, however, betrayed him—and made it clear he was struggling.
After a moment, the system completed the translation. There was a brief static sound—like it was about to shut down—then, as if rewinding time, it allowed Donald to hear exactly what the women had chanted.
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"Prince of Curses, Aze, please give our Lord the power to determine the magic talent of this young boy over here. We beg of you, plead with you, and lay our lives before you."
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The system translated it flawlessly. Donald was stunned. Even more so by the way it made his blood boil.
And he didn't know why.
He couldn't shake the feeling coursing through his body. It wasn't fear. It wasn't excitement. It was something... darker. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He had been dropped into this strange new world, and he still didn't even know its name. When he looked around, he saw faces that were supposed to be family—his twin sister, his father—and yet, he didn't recognize them at all.
He didn't want to dwell on it. His only goal was to get this process over with and find a way back home. Back to his sick mother.
So, whatever Elder Osiris and his two companions were doing—it meant nothing to him.
Because this wasn't Raze Crow.
This was Donald.
A man who had outgrown the age of five a very long time ago.
After the two women had muttered whatever that was—or whatever it meant—they also looked up like Elder Osiris and activated whatever he was doing. But it didn't seem like they did it voluntarily. The way their necks cracked and their mouths stretched, instead of opening normally, it looked as if they were being possessed.
But at least something did happen this time, and it was more progress than the first two attempts. Unlike before, the light didn't flicker and wasn't faint. It wasn't like the previous attempts where nothing happened—this time, a light did emerge from Elder Osiris.
However, that same progress—what should have brought relief to Raze, Elder Osiris, his sister, and their father—was not something to celebrate. Especially not for Marcelous.
What had occurred was disturbing. During their trance state, instead of the usual yellowish light coming from the eyes and mouths of all three, a dark purple lightning emerged. Not only did it cause disturbance, but it also struck one of the women down.
It was unclear why this had happened. Perhaps the power within this new Raze was so overwhelming that it affected all three of them—even when they were united.
The purple light flickered inside the woman on Elder Osiris's left side. Her youth, her unmatched beauty—both began to deteriorate. It was as if the light was eating her alive from the inside.
And she wasn't the only one being affected. All of them felt something. But she was clearly the one taking the brunt of it.
She began to shake violently, like someone having a seizure. Whatever that light was, it was trying to spread to the other two—but before it could, she collapsed.
Thud.
That was the sound of her body hitting the floor.
Elder Osiris jumped—not out of fear, but from something else entirely. Something in his eyes showed uneasiness. And without drawing attention, he quickly hid his hand—the same hand he'd placed on Raze's head.
The other woman gasped back to reality. She was trembling uncontrollably. But when she saw her sister lying motionless on the floor, she rushed over to her side.
"My Lord!" she cried out to Elder Osiris.
He was having his own problems. But once he heard the tone in the woman's voice—his wife's voice (both of them were his wives)—he turned quickly.
"What happened to her?" he asked in disbelief.
"I don't know, my Lord..." the woman's voice trembled with worry.
The other woman still lay there on the floor, still trembling—as if she were being repeatedly struck by some invisible force. Her skin had dried out completely. She had transformed from a breathtaking beauty to someone who looked pale, sickly, and near death.
Even worse, her body now appeared frail and bony—like she was suffering from a flesh-eating disease.
Elder Osiris stepped down from the throne—the very same throne that had made him feel like a king, towering over the others—to check on his wife. But in his haste, he forgot one thing: he left his hand exposed.
Before anyone could take notice, he quickly hid it again. Then he knelt beside her, eyes filled with worry.
"What the hell happened?" he whispered to himself.
His face said it all. Fear—not just fear of losing his wife, but fear of what might have caused this. When he touched her, it was with hesitation, almost afraid that he might harm her even more.
Then he looked at Raze. And his expression shifted from confusion… to fear. What he saw, he couldn't explain. It wasn't human.
"What mockery is this?" Elder Osiris growled, now enraged.
Marcelous rushed over, hoping to assist the great Elder. But after hearing those words, he couldn't stop himself from asking:
"What do you mean, my Lord?"
"You call this thing a Crow bloodline?" Osiris snapped, fuming with hatred.
Marcelous was stunned. He turned and looked at his son—at Raze—only to be met with a soulless stare. A stare that didn't show any remorse. It looked hollow. Lifeless.
But that wasn't the truth.
Even if he wasn't truly Marcelous's son, even if this wasn't really Raze Alikane Crow, the heir of the Crow bloodline—Donald didn't understand what was happening either.
So the blank stare they mistook for coldness wasn't that at all.
It was fear.
He was just as scared. Despite being a soul in his twenties, trapped in the body of a five-year-old, he was completely overwhelmed.
"We are leaving. Now!" Elder Osiris was furious.
He and his remaining wife helped lift the one in critical condition, and they began to walk away.
Marcelous followed behind them, pleading.
As Elder Osiris approached the door, Donald couldn't help but notice something—the very same hand Osiris had tried so hard to keep hidden... was smoking.
It was burning.
Skin peeling. Flesh dripping.
As if the hand were melting from the inside out.
Then, another notification message popped up.