NOVEL NEXT Chapter 65: Prophecy
Lying on a soft, cushioned bed, Lucian silently stared at the wooden ceiling above.
For the last five years, he had never forgotten about his past. Every night, as he tried to sleep, something kept him alive.
Memories... Right. Memories of several occasions.
The moment the apocalypse began.
The moment he acquired several cheat-like abilities.
The moment he met mysterious people like Silas.
The times when he questioned himself. His own existence.
He couldn't help but ask a simple question, "Why me?"
Even as he wanted to merely live quietly in a small apartment, fate always planned differently. Until now, he had dodged death several times.
Although it was cool at first, as more time passed, things began to feel off.
Now, he didn't feel exhilarated like before. Instead, a constant feeling of fear haunted his back.
"What if I die?"
"What about my peaceful life?"
"Who am I?"
The last he remembered, Lucian was an orphan. Someone who survived on the streets all alone.
To him, the warmth of a family was a strange concept until he came here.
It was as if someone was deliberately trying to let him soak in such an experience. 'Of course, everything until now seemed rashly fabricated. However, it's leading nowhere.'
He slowly slid both of his hands behind his head, elevating it slightly.
Then, he scanned the entire room. It was dark, just enough that it wouldn't let him see anything clearly after a few feet.
Letting out a deep, long sigh, Lucian sat up. The moon was already churning high in the midnight's beauty.
He got up from the bed, stretched slightly, and reached for the door. His footsteps were controlled and precise, stealthy as to not disturb anyone.
In a heartbeat, he climbed downstairs and jumped out of a small window. To his left, there was a small crevice in the fence that separated the land from the inn.
Without much of a thought, Lucian quickly jumped over the fence and landed on an adequately sized ground. Under the bright moonlight, its grass revealed multiple patterns.
Some dragged in curves, while others jabbed and ended in a single move. It was as if someone had been deliberately using the same foot techniques over and over again for a prolonged time.
Lucian simply walked to the middle of the ground and slightly bent his knees. Taking an attack form, he narrowed his eyes and launched a punch in the air. His power was precise, just enough to let his muscles flex in tension.
One after another he continued to throw punches, dodge, and retreat. It was the very basics of fighting, however enough to have him trained.
All while he fought a different war in his mind. The thoughts from before hadn't calmed down. Instead, they grew louder with every second.
Every time, only a single question was to be heard.
"WHO AM I?"
The question made him so restless that he couldn't sense the eyes that stared at him with a gentle gaze.
To his left, one of the windows of the inn was open wide. On the first floor, a girl sat on the edge of the window. Her head tilted over her knee, and her eyes fixed on a man.
Not with any ill intentions, but rather, a sense of longing. It was Mira.
Ever since hearing about Lucian's... or rather Feng Tian's decisions, she couldn't bring herself to sleep.
'To a child scorned by the world, the dream of warmth is noble. Yet a child of my age accepted me for what I was.' Her eyes—blank—stared at him.
'He called me his friend, so why is he trying to leave?'
Just like Lucian, Mira, too, was fighting a separate war.
Lucian waged war to know his true existence.
While Mira waged war to not let go of her only friend.
***
Meanwhile, the tallest building situated in Xiangzhan was bustling with people. Despite the moon shining at its peak, people restlessly hurried through corridors, holding onto giant bundles of different papers.
They were scholars of the Righteous Alliance—one of the major forces that ruled over this world.
Although known to be the imperial state of the last dynasty, Xiangzhan now hosted the headquarters of the Righteous Alliance.
Throughout the last decades, the alliance-building had stayed quiet. The heretics were purged in the last divine war, and crime rates were controlled.
Tonight, however, the entire building had turned head over heels. A suspicious letter had arrived in a pristine white box.
And this box lay open on the top floor of this building.
A middle-aged man sat draped in silken white robes with a blue dragon embedded rising on his back. His long black hair hid a part.
His bloodshot cerulean eyes glared at the box sharply.
"Call advisor Hyun right this instant!" His voice roared through the room, making the guards act immediately.
A vein bulged over his forehead as the paper trembled in his hands.
"Qingxuan, Luoxing, Tianheng, Xuesha, and even Yunque..." He crumpled the paper in his fist and slowly turned his head around.
Looking right behind, the man sneered, "All of these cities have fallen into the hands of the Unorthodox. All because of you."
"Old man, you'd better have a good reason."
Right behind him, an elder sat mixed in shadows. Only as the moonlight entered the room from the window behind was his body revealed.
His bright emerald eyes sparkled through the darkness, glaring right at the man... or rather, the vice-leader of the Righteous alliance.
But the vice-leader didn't flinch. He simply stared as a faint green poison gathered around the old man's body.
"5 years ago, a prophecy was sung by the ancestors of the great clans. Their last remnants were destroyed from this world, and all lingering connections were abruptly severed." The old man recalled, his voice calm and authoritative.
"As per our ancestors' orders, I, along with several others, am looking for someone. A man with a never-dying soul."