NOVEL NEXT Chapter 8: Inheritance
I tried forgetting about it, I really did..but no matter what Grandma or anyone told me; I knew the cold truth.
I had killed my parents—
These words replayed in my head again and again as poison seemed to seep into my mind.
Ughhh
I kicked my legs on the ground and silently looked at the ancient book on the floor.
This fucking book was the only other thing found on my parents at the site of their accident.
Everyone thought of it as garbage and handed it down to me as the only 'inheritance' my parents had left for me.
I remembered my dad saying that they had found a cure for the illness..for my empty constitution.
At that time I was so small and lost in grief that I had forgotten about this book…Until a few years back.
It was when I had first grown tired of all the bullying..of being beaten and looked down upon by the other kids due to my lack of being able to absorb mana.
I asked where the book was kept from my grandma and brought it to my room.
When I had first tried opening it, I realised that no matter what I did, I simply could not open it.
It was as if the pages of the book were glued together—
This only further increased my suspicion about it being the last piece of the puzzle.
hufff
The book was big but unassuming, yet something about it demanded attention.
Dust coated its surface, and I brushed it off with the back of my hand.
My fingers ran over the cracked spine, tracing the faint lines that had formed over years of torture and abuse.
The leather was faded, its once rich black was now dulled to a faded shade, with patches of the material peeling off.
The corners were frayed, exposing the brittle layers beneath. On its surface, in a font so faded that it was almost illegible, were the words:
" The Tower of Sin."
I stared at the title, my brow furrowing as the same unease settled in my chest.
Every time I looked at these words, I would have this eerie feeling-
Scratching the back of my head, I placed the book on the table in my room and opened one of the secret drawers.
There, a pile of papers could be seen with the following words written on it:
Experiment No. 468
That was the amount of crazy and reckless ideas I had tried to open the book within the last 2 years.
I had tried burning it, tried using a fucking knife to hack it open—
Not only this but I had even tried cutting it open through awakened weapons, items forged from the carcass of the beasts by the blacksmiths of this world.
But none of it worked—
This book was immune to fire, water, physical damage and even electricity!
My thumb ran along the edge of the book's pages, at one point, it had seemed that the book did indeed take some damage; the broken spine was a perfect example of that.
But would you look at that?
This dogshit book still refused to open—
At one point, the pent-up rage started to get the better of me as I could not stop myself from punching the book.
It hurt.
'Not as much as living the last 8 years did,'
I grit my teeth.
I knew there was no use for what I was doing now, but it did not matter.
I continued punching, even when the wounds on my knuckles started to open.
Even when tears threatened to fall off my eyes, even when my whole body started trembling.
No.
It was not because of the pain.
I was used to pain.
Far greater pain than this—
What I felt right now was more frustration than anything else.
I was frustrated at what I had become,
A Noble.
An Orphan.
If that wasn't bad enough?
I was a failure.
I could not absorb mana.
I could not become a mage.
I could not do anything.
No.
There was still something I could do.
Ahhhh
I almost screamed.
I was.
Fucking.
Done.
I put all of my strength into punching the book.
Punch.
Why.
Punch. Punch.
Just why-
My fists landed with dull, repetitive sounds, but I didn't stop.
My breath came in ragged gasps as my mind spiralled into a single, unshakable thought.
I need to open this book.
Nothing else mattered.
My heart beat against my ribs as the surroundings turned hazy.
Time no longer seemed to exist—just the dull ache of my knuckles splitting open, the sharp sting of blood dripping down my fingers, and the maddening refusal of this damn book to yield.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
"Why won't you open?!" My voice cracked, and I slammed my fist down with all the strength I had left.
The pain was immediate, a searing flash that tore through my knuckles. I grit my teeth, ignoring it, tears welling in my eyes but refusing to fall.
Each punch felt like a release—of anger, frustration and hopelessness.
My mind had gone blank, thoughts replaced with nothing but a primal desperation.
Open. Open. Open.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I couldn't think of anything else. My fists ached, but I ignored them.
Blood smeared the surface of the book now, dark red streaks painting the worn leather, but still, it stayed sealed.
My vision blurred with exhaustion and tears that I refused to acknowledge.
Time slipped away. I had no idea how long I had been at it—minutes, hours?
My entire world narrowed to the book, my hands, and the overwhelming need to break it open.
I need to open this book. I need to open this book.
The words played over and over in my mind, a mad chant that drowned out everything else. My body trembled, shoulders shaking from exhaustion.
The room felt colder, or maybe I was just losing sensation, but I couldn't stop.
Punch. Smack. Crack.
"JUST OPEN ALREADY!" I screamed, my voice hoarse, echoing in the empty room.
And then it happened.
A blinding flash of black light came from the book, swallowing the room in an instant. The oppressive darkness covered me, cutting off my senses entirely.
My fists froze mid-strike, the dim brightness of my room replaced by suffocating shadows.
I stumbled back—or tried to. My legs wouldn't move. No matter how hard I tried, it was as if I was frozen in place.
"What the—?!" I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper, the words catching in my throat.
Fear should have consumed my mind, but what I felt right now was something more..something electrifying!
Excitement.
Yes, it could only be that.
My eyes darted around the room—or what I could still see of it—but there was nothing. Just shadows. Endless. Shadows.
The book, now glowing faintly in the blackness, hovered slightly off the table.
'Why wasn't I feeling scared?' I questioned myself, but soon discarded the thought.
It did not matter.
For before my eyes, I could see the very edges of the book trembling.
The same book that I had tried to hack open for years now—
I clearly noticed how strange symbols covred the books surface, repairing all the damage I had done to it.
"What... is happening?" For a second there, I got scared, worried that my years of tryouts to destroy the book had gone to waste.
The glow turned brighter and all of a sudden, it started to flip open; making me sigh in relief,
Bruh.
'That was stressfull,' I almost cried. Lol.
Just then, I saw a pearl white page open in the world of darkness.
My instincts screamed at me to run, to get away from this God-forsaken place, but my body refused to move.
Just then, a voice—low, guttural, and echoing—whispered in the back of my mind.
[Do you want to know the World's Greatest Secret?]
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