The dical world recognizes the limits of pain, but what Revan was experiencing at this mont was far beyond the realm of human reason.
Cough! Cough!
Revan instantly collapsed. His body hit the shattered ground with a sound that was no longer solid—as if his bones had softened into mush. Fresh blood sprayed violently from his mouth, soaking the earth beneath him in a thick crimson hue.
[Ti Remaining: 00:19]
"Haa... haa..."
’Co on... breathe, Revan! Breathe!’
He tried to encourage himself, but no matter how hard he tried, reality remained unchanged.
His breath ca in ragged gasps; every intake of oxygen felt like inhaling shards of hot glass that sliced through his throat. His lungs were no longer functioning properly, drowned in blood seeping from his ruptured internal organs.
In the last few minutes, Revan had been trapped in a terrifying cycle of "suicide." Every ti the 20-second duration of the Elixir was about to expire, he would force an all-out attack by drawing Mana in amounts that far exceeded his body’s capacity.
That Mana current exploded inside him, destroying muscle tissue and blood vessels, only to be forcibly regenerated by the Elixir’s effect in the next 20 seconds.
He kept doing it—breaking, healing, and breaking again. Repeatedly. Even with the greatest regeneration ability, Revan’s nerves and brain still responded to that trauma as real pain. His body began to refuse to function out of fear of that cycle of destruction.
Moreover, during the peak of his battle earlier, Revan forced himself into a state of:
[Force Overdrive: Neural Perception]
A technique that channeled Aura directly into his brain and optic nerves. He kept forcing his brain and vision to keep up with his own movents and Vargos’s blinding speed.
Brutally, he forced his consciousness to match the Master’s pace, resulting in massive hemorrhaging in his brain and nervous system right now.
’I am really going to die...’
[Ti Remaining: 00:18]
His vision began to blur. In front of him, Vargos’s figure, bound by threads, looked like nothing more than a trembling black silhouette, distorted by the blood flooding his corneas.
[Ti Remaining: 00:17]
’Hold on, Revan! Just a little longer... 20 more seconds...!’ his remaining sanity scread, trying to claw back so consciousness.
[Ti Remaining: 00:16]
He tried to count down, hoping that if he could last until the next 20-second mark, the Elixir would trigger regeneration once more to knit his broken body back together. However, in the middle of that count, his consciousness was jolted by a reality colder than death.
[Ti Remaining: 00:15]
’Ah... there isn’t one...’
Revan choked on his own blood. A bitter realization hit his consciousness harder than anything else: there would be no next "20 seconds." He just realized that the Elixir’s effect, which had been keeping him alive, was nearing its end.
Now, all that remained and faithfully awaited him was the Elixir’s backlash.
[Ti Remaining: 00:14]
’Ahhh... no... I really am going to die...’
’I can’t breathe anymore...’
Tears began to flow from the corners of his eyes, feeling warm against his rapidly cooling cheeks.
[Ti Remaining: 00:13]
’So this is... what they call karma?’
[Ti Remaining: 00:12]
Revan lowered his heavy head. His bloodshot eyes stared blankly at the ground beneath him—at the pool of his own blood that was starting to cool. In that red reflection, his own image began to blur, replaced by fragnts of mories he had kept locked tight in the corners of his mind.
[Ti Remaining: 00:11]
mories from before he reincarnated into this cursed world.
’Since I was little... I was always a burden to my parents,’ Revan thought, his inner voice sounding incredibly fragile.
He rembered his mother’s tired face and his father who often fell silent because of his behavior. He rembered how often he made them angry, frustrated, until tears fell due to their disappointnt in him. In his old world, he was nobody, just a selfish young man.
’I’m sorry... I’m really sorry...’
An imnse longing suddenly slamd into his chest, hurting more than his ruptured lungs.
Since being reborn as Revan von Alstaire, he had ceaselessly insulted fate. He hated this character, cursed his weakness, and felt superior because he was a "Player." But now, he rembered all his toxic comnts on forums and his despicable actions toward the woman on the train.
’I really am a piece of shit...’
[Ti Remaining: 00:10]
Clear tears now dripped down, falling right into the pool of blood gathering beneath his face. The ripples created a small distortion of Revan’s reflection.
For fifteen years, he hated the figure of ’Revan’ because he considered him trash. But he forgot, for those fifteen years, he was the one occupying this vessel. He was the one who felt the sting of being ignored, the fear of being deed useless, and the despair that choked him every day.
This was no longer a ga narrative. This was his life. This pain was his. This suffering was his.
[Ti Remaining: 00:09]
’Revan... I’m sorry. It seems we were indeed destined to die as pawns.’
Slowly, the corners of his lips lifted. He smiled—a genuine smile that no longer held hatred or pretense. For the first ti, he no longer rejected this body. He stopped warring with his own identity.
’It is what it is.’
"You and I... we really are trash," he muttered in his heart, honestly acknowledging his existence in the face of death.
[Ti Remaining: 00:08]
At that nadir, the heavy burden that had crushed his shoulders for fifteen years suddenly vanished. A strange peace enveloped his soul. Two identities that had been at odds for so long finally rged into a single, whole entity. Revan was no longer fighting against himself. He surrendered, letting the darkness embrace him as his remaining life force evaporated.
***
[Ti Remaining: 00:07]
Revan’s consciousness was hanging by a thread. The pain that had been destroying his nerves slowly faded, replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness.
But, right before his soul truly slipped into the darkness of the afterlife, a voice called out to him.
[Ti Remaining: 00:06]
"Since when was my Right Hand taught to grovel on the ground like this?"
The voice was one Revan knew very well. A cold, arrogant voice.
Yes, the voice of his master—Sylvia von Vespera.
[Ti Remaining: 00:05]
"You incompetent subordinate," Sylvia continued.
She stood tall right beside Revan, looking down at the blood-soaked body with her frozen Pale Violet eyes. Her gaze held no horror; she looked at Revan’s broken body as if she were looking at a dirty stain annoying her on her expensive dress.
[Ti Remaining: 00:04]
"I told you to finish these trash in five minutes, but look at you now. Pathetic."
Sylvia observed every inch of Revan’s wounds—blood flowing from his mouth, nose, to his ears.
"You let yourself be destroyed just to face a low-class creature like him? You are truly ruining my reputation. What is the point of appointing you as my Right Hand if this is the result, huh? You should be ashad of yourself."
[Ti Remaining: 00:03]
Her Pale Violet eyes then shifted to Vargos, who was still burning with Revan’s black aura.
"Look at that... you let your own enemy watch you die in your final monts, even while he is still alive."
[Ti Remaining: 00:02]
In front of them, Vargos, burning with the remnants of Revan’s black aura, suddenly laughed hoarsely.
"Hahahaha... isn’t that a very cruel thing to say, Miss?" Vargos coughed, spitting out blood. "That young man really gave his all to kill , you know. You should give so praise to your little dog before he actually kicks the bucket."
[Ti Remaining: 00:01]
"Dead n shouldn’t talk," Sylvia said coldly.
She stared at Vargos with a look of absolute disgust, as if she wasn’t looking at a warrior, but a thief caught red-handed.
"Especially a traitorous rat who thought he could scurry away with Vespera’s cargo without consequences."
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"You bit the hand that fed you, stole our shipnt, and now you dare to bark at ? You truly don’t know your place."
She glanced back at Revan with cold indifference, then casually retrieved a silver pocket watch from her dress.
With a soft click, the lid sprang open.
"Tch."
She stared at the dial for a second, a frown of annoyance marring her beautiful features.
"This has wasted too much of my ti."
Snap!
She closed the watch with a sharp, final sound. Her eyes narrowed, locking onto Vargos like a predator eyeing its next al.
"Fine. I’ll do it myself."
[Ti Remaining: 00:00]
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