Chapter Seven: The Touch of Death
Weapons? Just trivial tools I don't need.
Why drag myself into a conventional fight when I possess the power of death in my hands?
Kiran, my teacher, tried once again to convince me to use a sword, even offering me a wooden one to start training with.
"Young Master, the sword is the foundation of every mage's defense. You cannot ignore it."
I looked at the sword for a long moment, then calmly dropped it to the ground.
"I have no need for it."
Kiran stood there, surprised, but didn't argue.
He didn't understand. No one understands.
Death isn't just magic; it's a part of me, my language—and I've mastered its dialect.
My eyes fixed on the training dummy before me. I slowly raised my hand and touched its surface.
Immediately, the dummy began to tremble and writhe, then shattered and crumbled to ash.
Kiran gasped and stepped back.
"This is no ordinary technique. What is it called?"
I smiled faintly and said quietly,
"A technique I invented…"
But inside, the voice was clear:
– Not me, but my predecessor Ren, the mad bastard.
The "Touch of Death" technique — one touch is enough to destroy any life it contacts. The same used by my predecessor to torture prisoners who betrayed the Dritch family.
Kiran spoke in awe:
"You wield your magic in an unparalleled way, Young Master. I've never seen a child understand death like this before."
I replied calmly:
"No one understands death better than I do… because it was my only friend."
**
After training ended, I returned to the mansion where Alfred, my devoted servant, greeted me.
"Young Master, you have an appointment at the prison today. Would you like to postpone it?"
I studied his face for a moment, then said:
"No, we won't delay it."
**
Inside the castle prison, the smell of iron and blood mixed with the damp, grim atmosphere.
My steps were heavy but silent, and the intermittent screams from the cells around sounded like a twisted symphony.
I reached the cell Alfred promised me to see.
The scene was bloody: walls stained with blood, a man writhing in agony, screaming with unbearable pain.
Everyone trembled with fear—but I smiled.
"This is reality… and this is what I need to move forward."