After taking the blow, Unwan realized that reasoning was impossible. Talking was useless. They were simply using him for their own sick entertainment. Perhaps they would even kill him. Unwan knew his fate rested in their hands, yet a part of him almost yearned to depart for the eternal life.
...if such a thing even existed.
Truth be told, living as a nobody, seeing his goals shattered, and being hated by everyone could drive any soul to this state. That morning, Unwan had faced the truth, one of the heaviest truths in the world.
...Perhaps the heaviest of all.
Regardless, it didn't feel like a reality meant for humans. But for which creatures, then? Grems? Or Daemons?
Fury surged within Unwan. With a voice full of spite, as if begging for his own demise, he began to speak:
— Hah, that's right. Strike me, kick me. Do whatever vile and cruel thing your hearts desire. After all, you are humans, the most disgusting and evil creatures on earth. Hit me, go on! Since power is the only thing that matters to you. For the strong to display their might before the weak... that is your law.
— What are you babbling about, bastard?
One of them kicked Unwan hard. He collapsed backward again, but he forced himself up and spoke once more.
— Yes, exactly like that. Leave no part of me unbroken. Show me the true extent of human cruelty. After all, standing before you is 'Unwan, the one everyone hates.' The only person whom the laws of humanity have forsaken. Come on, hit me.
— Hey, Fred. This kid's lost his mind after two hits. What should we do? Shall I keep going?
He laughed with sadistic pleasure, glancing at Fred. Fred replied with an equally twisted grin.
— What else is there to do? Our victim is practically begging for it.
***
At Greater Spell, almost everyone had completed their registration. Adan was engaged in conversation with none other than Derang himself. Despite this, Adan maintained a cold and indifferent expression.
— Mr. Adan, what will you do now? Do you intend to join a cohort?
— I haven't thought about that yet, Director. Excuse me, is it alright if I call you Director?
Derang laughed.
— Of course. For someone with a future as bright as yours, what is a small title?
— Fine. I plan to study at the academy first. No matter how powerful the grimoire in my hand is, I must learn to control this power.
— Absolutely correct, Mr. Adan. Well then, I wish you luck at the acade—
Clunk. Clunk.
Adan looked around.
— Did you hear that?
Derang frowned.
— Hear what?
— I heard a sound. A clunk-clunk. Something like that.
— I'm not sure. There was no such sound before.
High above, a sealed grimoire was now thrashing so violently that the sounds grew louder. Adan was the first to hear it, but by the next time it happened, everyone inside the hall noticed.
Everyone began whispering to one another: "What is that?", "Where is that sound coming from?", "Is it something dangerous?"
The crowd instinctively shifted into defensive stances in their own way. Derang summoned the guards who had taken their posts only five minutes prior.
The grimoire was moving with such force it seemed capable of shattering a thick wall. However, the sealed shelves was no ordinary shelf. Though it looked simple from the outside, it was crafted from pure Oire.
A wood that wouldn't even submit to Grems.
But the grimoire didn't care. The fact that its owner wasn't physically present don't stop it. On the contrary, the owner's mental state allowed the grimoire to thrash even harder.
***
In a blind alley, three people were brutally beating a boy. The poor child's body was covered in bruises, some spots already turning dark purple, others broken. The marks looked like a terrifying disease spreading across his pale skin. Literally, no part of him was left whole: neither his body, nor his mind, nor his thoughts, nor his clothes.
His clothes had been torn to rags earlier, though they didn't look like they were damaged by human hands. But now, it was impossible to tell.
Unwan's mind never stopped racing.
'Go on. More. More. Show me the limits of your savagery. Show me what it means to be 'human,' monsters. You are strong, how lucky for you. Unfortunately, in such strong bodies, there is no justice, no mercy, no humanity, and no intellect. And how lucky am I? I possess all of those, yet I have no strength.'
Fred stomped down hard, and this time, Unwan's rib snapped. He spat out blood again.
'Strength — it is as if it's everything. They think you can possess wealth, fame, intelligence, and everything else, but strength can override it all. But strength can be gained over time; what about intellect and humanity?'
But at that moment, Unwan asked himself a question:
'Then why haven't I found strength yet?'
Unwan went still. He became so quiet that he could find neither a reason nor an answer. If what he believed was true, he should have had power by now. But why was it missing?
'Does that mean... my thoughts are wrong?'
***
Despite there being nearly a hundred people in the Grimoire Hall of Greater Spell, everyone was silent. They were both intrigued and terrified of where the sound was coming from.
The noise was clearly coming from above. But from where exactly? The hall's bookshelves were so high they reached the very top of the central tower. And there... a grimoire locked in a shelves was struggling.
Grimoires usually appeared on their own at night to fill the spots of those who had found owners, so no one ever climbed up there.
Yet, a massive power was sealed within it. Every time it hit the walls of its sealed shelves, it felt as though a mountain was being pulverized. The problem was that the sealed shelves was just as powerful and durable.
However, everything changed in an instant. A single sentence passed through Unwan's mind: "Does that mean... my thoughts are wrong?"
This activated the grimoire so intensely that the shelves could no longer withstand it. It shattered. To be precise, a tiny crack appeared in the seal, the lock of the shelves snapped.
The sound of the lock breaking echoed through the entire hall. In the sky... there was nothing. Only a deep violet glow. But this was no ordinary light. This glow swallowed the golden radiance emitted by Adan's fifth-tier grimoire, replacing it with its own.
The grimoire, the source of this light, flew out with such immense speed that no one could even see it.
Everyone stood frozen in awe and shock. No one knew what it was, and the mere sight of it made their skin crawl.
Finally, Derang spoke.
— W-what do you think, Mr. Adan? What could this be?
— "Perhaps," Adan whispered, "it is a sign that a new Great Owner is emerging."