What does it an to be in a novel?
The advantages of living in a world derived from a novel.
In a novel, everything is designed with purpose. Take the villains, for instance. To create a compelling antagonist, the author has to build them with layers, history, and motives. These aren't just obstacles—they're people, often crafted to make the reader connect with them, even sympathize, despite their actions.
It's just that in a story, every villain has a past, right? And as a reader, you learn about that past, you understand what twisted them into what they beca. And when they're written well, those pasts aren't there just for show—they bind the characters to the readers, creating empathy, or at the very least, understanding.
One would know what these people have gone through, where they've faltered, and the choices that drove them.
I kept my gaze fixed on the arena below, eyes zeroing in on Valeria and the young foxkin standing across from her. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation, their energy infectious, but my mind was focused elsewhere, piecing together details I knew all too well.
One of the main reasons I ca to Andelheim was, of course, to make a na for myself, to win this tournant, and to start establishing a reputation. But there was more to it than that—a deeper reason tied to this city and the people in it. Andelheim wasn't just a place for fa; it was a city heavy with the past of certain characters, key pieces woven into the background of this world.
The boy standing across from Valeria was one of those pieces. One half of a pair of foxkin siblings, young beastkin who'd suffered more than most could imagine. Slaves to so bastard who'd twisted their lives beyond recognition, both this boy and his sister had been nothing but tools in the hands of a cruel master. In the story, they hadn't had a chance to escape; pain and anger had festered until it warped them, leaving them vengeful and ruthless.
The boy would grow into a formidable villain—a blade honed by years of suffering, a force of vengeance that would one day shake the story. His sister would follow a similar path, her innocence buried beneath bitterness and survival instincts.
But they hadn't started as villains. Not really. This world, ticulously crafted to create the deepest antagonists, had pushed them to the edge. And here I was, standing on the edge of their story, knowing more than they would ever understand about the forces that shaped them.
"Found you," I murmured under my breath, like confirming the final piece of a puzzle. The tournant had brought them here, and for once, I had a chance to alter that path.
I shifted in my seat, watching Valeria and the boy lock eyes, feeling the weight of the mont.
'Vitaliara,'
I called silently, and her familiar voice responded almost imdiately, echoing within my mind.
[Yes?]
I kept my gaze fixed on the boy, watching the tension in his stance, the subtle fury simring just below his composed exterior. '
Can you sense anything... unusual about him?
' I asked.
She fell silent, focusing on the boy from afar. A mont later, her voice returned, thoughtful but edged with sothing darker. [The amount of resentnt and death energy he's carrying… it's not normal. Far from it. For one so young, he's seen far more than most, and the energy of it clings to him like a shadow.]
Her words confird what I'd suspected. This wasn't just a kid fighting in a tournant. This was soone who'd been forced to confront the worst life had to offer, soone already tainted by darkness.
As I watched the boy, Vitaliara's voice returned, quieter but tinged with a note of disgust. [There's sothing else,] she murmured, as if hesitant to speak. [A binding magic… It's faint but insidious, woven deep within him. Like chains, though more refined. Not just any magic—this is binding magic of the cruelest kind.]
Her words echoed what I'd already guessed.
Slave pacts.
Brutal magic that latched onto the spirit, leaving no freedom. Only obedience. I nodded to myself, the pieces of this twisted puzzle slotting into place with a sickening certainty.
'Can you locate the one responsible?
' I asked silently. '
You should be able to trace the connection, now that your strength has returned.'
The weight of her regained power was undeniable.
She'd grown far stronger in recent days as she had recovered her energy from the two of her 'subordinates?'
[Indeed,] she replied, her voice sharper, brimming with purpose. [In fact, this might be easier than usual—whoever bound him wasn't cautious, likely confident that no one would detect it. But be warned, Lucavion; the connection could be fragile. I'll need a mont.]
'Take the ti you need,'
I assured her, my gaze remaining steady on the boy below. The arena was charged with excitent, oblivious to what lay beneath the surface of this match.
All the better. Thanks to the scene I'd stirred up monts ago, the attention was still on . Slipping away now, or making any rash moves, would invite a hundred suspicious glances.
Also, it was not like this was for the worse.
'I can't act imdiately.'
In the novel, it was revealed that these kids were not just threatened by the Slave Pact. They were also being threatened by the people of their village, as all of them were captured.
'Though…..'
Well, the sad part is, that they were already sold.
These foxkin siblings thought they were fighting for sothing—their freedom, perhaps, or the hope that their village was safe. But I knew the bitter truth.
The master who held them had woven more than chains; he had built an illusion, a shimring, hollow promise that bound them as tightly as the pact.
Sowhere in their minds, they clung to the belief that their people were safe, hidden away in a place where they could live in peace. But that "sanctuary" was no more than a mirage, a carefully crafted lie to keep the siblings compliant.
In ti, they'd learn the truth. I rembered the scene vividly: the mont when one of the foxkin, a friend from their village, was found in a noble's quarters—a baron who had purchased him as if he were livestock.
It was that terrible revelation, that silent confirmation of betrayal, that shattered whatever fragile hope the siblings had held onto.
And that was when their lives twisted beyond redemption. They didn't rely lose hope; they beca consud by fury, a rage so fierce it broke through the bindings of their pact, even though pain wracked their bodies with every rebellious thought.
They fought back against their master and his allies, driven by a hatred so deep that it gave them the strength to defy even death.
In the story, it was then, at their lowest, their bodies beaten and on the verge of collapse, that a shadowed organization appeared—a group that thrived on the fractured, the vengeful, the broken.
They promised the siblings power, guidance, and a path to vengeance. The siblings accepted, not because they wanted salvation, but because they wanted retribution, no matter the cost.
CLANK!
But as I was lost in my thoughts, the sudden act of weapons clashing brought back to reality.
'Well…..Let's see what you can do, against an opponent like this, My Lady Knight.'
Would she erge victorious, or not….It was ti to find that fact.
********
As the match between Valeria and the young beastkin boy was about to begin, the crowd's murmur quieted, a hush settling over the arena.
Valeria's fingers flexed around the hilt of her sword, her mind focused but her instincts still uneasy.
–SWOOSH!
The mont the match began, the boy charged forward, his movents a blur of speed and intensity. Valeria tensed, surprised by how quickly he closed the distance, his bare hands clawed and ready. Despite his unard approach, every muscle in his body was coiled, radiating a fierce, predatory energy.
She raised her Zweihander, intending to et his attack head-on, but the boy moved with an agility that was hard to follow. He sidestepped her initial swing, ducking low before springing up, his claws slashing with surprising force.
"Fast—!"
CLANK!
She blocked, but the impact of his strike reverberated through her arms, nearly causing her to lose her footing.
SWOOSH!
'That strength…!'
she thought, shocked by the raw power behind his small fra. It was as if a truck had collided with her, each strike landing with a weight that belied his young age and small size.
Valeria adjusted her stance, bracing herself against his relentless assault. But the foxkin boy wasn't giving her any reprieve—he twisted around her, his movents fluid and precise, each strike aid at her weak points with uncanny accuracy.
She managed to deflect so blows, but each ti she blocked, she felt the sheer force of his attacks testing the limits of her defenses.
'This boy… he fights like a beast….'
The fight was not going to be an easy one. She could see that.
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