Chương 10: I want to Die.

TALES OF SEVEN VIRTUES

It was a time of countless wars between species, a world drowned in chaos. Amid the conflits rose the Chaos Dragon—a beast of calamity whose very presence left a trail of flames and ruin.

To defend their homeland against this common enemy, the people of all species united. Yet their combined might was not enough. No magic had any effect and no relic or artifact could seal him. The dragon was too powerful, its unique and terrifying ability to adapt and understand overwhelming every strategy they devised.

When all hope seemed lost, seven Heroes emerged, each bringing with them a glimmer of hope and a path toward order. They were known as the 'Seven Heros of Virtues'.

Among them were:

Arthur, the wielder of the Legendary Sword Excalibur—the embodiment of 'Hope'. His blade shone as a beacon, inspiring courage in all who followed.

Isha, the Witch of Sand—a master of ancient runes and modern magic alike. She represented the virtue of 'Wisdom', her knowledge a guiding force.

Sirius, the Legendary Blacksmith—a dwarf of unmatched bravery who took the dragon's attacks head-on. He represented 'Courage,' unyielding even before certain death.

Fawad, the Noble Archer—a high-born elf who chose to fight alongside other race. He embodied 'Temperance', his discipline and restraint bridging everyone.

Eva, the Harbinger of Prosperity—a beastwoman gifted with the power to uplift and strengthen her comrades. She represented 'Compassion', her presence a balm to weary souls.

Azazel, King of Demons and Nights—a ruler with the gift to weaken his foes, diminishing their power. He stood for 'Patience', outlasting even the strongest of enemies.

And lastly, the Crow, the one who wore the colorless crown—the figure of 'Justice'.

For seven days and nights, these Heroes clashed with the Chaos Dragon. Their battle was so fierce it shook Ozlin to its very core, tearing the skies and shattering the moon.

At last, the Heroes emerged victorious. They vanquished the Chaos Dragon, hiding its body parts across the world to prevent any resurgence of chaos and corruption.

After their victory, Arthur established his own kingdom, Camelot, and formed the Order of the Knights of the Round Table to uphold justice and protect the realm.

To preserve their united legacy, the Seven Heroes then built the Martial Hall at the heart of the world—a place to bring order and harmony to Ozlin. They also founded the Arch Academy, where anyone could come to learn magic, swordsmanship, and to harness their gifts, training the next generation of heroes to defend peace and balance.

Thus, Camelot, the Martial Hall, and the Arch Academy became enduring symbols of the Seven Virtues, reminders of the Heroes' sacrifice and the power of unity in a world once torn by chaos.

Ozlin still sings the songs of Seven Virtues.

As Eden closed the book, a wave of disbelief and familiarity washed over him. These figures—the legendary Seven Heroes—felt real, like echoes of something he had already seen. He remembered their shadows flickering in the Snow Field and the cat's cryptic words about the "Heroes of Virtue." It was as if the story had been written in front of him, hidden in plain sight. "So… it wasn't just an illusion," he murmured, his voice barely breaking the silence.

He lay down, hoping sleep would come, but his mind was restless, caught in a storm of thoughts. Images of battles, ancient powers, gifts, what happened to Heros afterwards, and does they really opened the rift to snow field haunted him, making sleep impossible. With a sigh, he whispered, "There's no way I can sleep with all this in my head."

So he simply closed his eyes, trying to let his thoughts clear. The hours slipped by, and eventually, dawn arrived, filling the cave with soft, golden light.

As the first rays of sunlight touched his face, Eden felt a gentle surge of energy. Rising to his feet, he stepped outside into the forest, breathing in the cool morning air. "Fresh air… finally," he murmured, letting a small smile appear as he looked around at the vivid greenery.

Something about the morning felt almost magical, and he chuckled softly, relieved to see only a single sun overhead. "One sun—thankfully, just one, and it's yellow."

Venturing deeper into the forest, he began to notice faint, threadlike lights with his right eye. They pulsed gently, like strands of energy around living things. "What… are these?" he whispered, reaching out to brush his fingers near one, watching as it seemed to shimmer in response. The colors were so vivid and otherworldly that he almost forgot where he was, entranced by the intricate web of energy.

As he continued, Eden noticed a cluster of vibrant blue lights glowing ahead, bright and beautiful. Drawn to their ethereal glow, he followed them until they led him to a lake nestled among the trees. Different colors of lush flowers covered the lake's edge, and beautiful blue lights floated above it.

"It's... majestic."

He stepped closer, watching the soft blue lights float above the water like fireflies caught in a dance. But as he approached, they suddenly shattered, breaking into fragments and dissolving into the air as if they had sensed his presence.

Eden knelt by the lake's edge, staring at the reflection that looked back at him—a boy in his teens, pale skin, white hair falling around his face, and eyes that held two different worlds: one a piercing blue, the other a stormy gray. His expression was serious, distant… sad. Despite everything he had been through, there was something almost innocent about him, a reminder of a life that felt impossibly far away.

A tightness clawed at his chest, filling him with an ache so deep it was almost unbearable. He wanted to scream, to release the storm raging within him. Yet, as he looked into his own eyes, he felt an even stronger urge to cry, to let his pain spill out and shatter the silence around him. But no tears came. His throat tightened, and his face twisted, but all he felt was a raw emptiness that wouldn't let him break.

"Why…?" he whispered hoarsely to his reflection, his voice barely holding together. "Why did it have to be like this?"

His hands trembled, clenching tightly as he tried to push through the weight pressing down on him. He felt as if he was standing at the edge of something vast and hollow, unable to move forward, unable to turn back. The urge to cry rose again, fierce and overwhelming, but his body refused him even that small release.

A cold frustration settled within him, mingling with the sorrow he had no way to express. He had no one to turn to, no way back, and the silence only reminded him of how truly alone he was in this strange world.

"I'm… just so tired…" he whispered, his words falling like stones into the stillness. His reflection stared back, mirroring the helplessness he felt but couldn't release.

I want to die.

But I can't. I won't.

I just can't give up now, after suffering so much.

Or is it just a pitiful excuse I'm giving myself? Am I just a coward too scared to die? Why am I like this?

I really hate myself, I hate my existence, I hate being so useless, I hate being so lonely. But at the same time, I hold my life dear—not for me, but for my past self.

Then a tear dropped into the lake, illuminating it, as if it had heard a call for help.

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