The Villain's Story

Chapter 955: Lost.

Alexander felt… lost. The moment he returned to Earth, everything had become dull. A certain type of dull, near indistinguishable from the color released by his [Null] affinity. The bursts of excitement, the exciting dilemma of challenges, the fearful expectations of strong foes… disappeared.

In Lanekia, he had trained under a Spirit Knight, a powerful being that had taught him many things, and also received some guidance from an Ancient Divine Dragon, possibly the oldest dragon in the house of death, excluding the progenitor. And after that, he had spent a grueling time fighting against the fragment of Kizmal, a giant the size of a mountain.

The feeling of being burnt by his blood, consumed by it, was still vivid in his mind. Never would it go away, for being buried in an infernal liquid that seeped into your very flesh, mind, and soul was not an everyday occurrence. Nevertheless, he had surpassed the trial, along with his friends.

After that, Alexander had run into the heart of a storm caused by his own shadow, representing the walls he had built up around himself from a young age, a fierce tornado that brought harm to both himself and any who dared come close. A weird, flawed, and surprisingly common type of personality. After he had overcome that, his visit to the Shadow Realm was extended by meeting Shi Lam.

And then, there came the Black Sea, possibly the most harrowing experience. Funnily enough, it was also the safest, to a certain extent. The Black Sea had left a deep gash in Alexander’s mind, changing him forever.

In the training, in the fight against Kizmal, against his own insecurities… and even against Shi Lam, Alexander felt as if he could do something, as if the path he had carved for himself was not so useless, one that actually made a good foundation for him to stand on.

Something to feel proud about. In all of those situations, Alexander had thought he would be able to do something, that he wasn’t helpless. But the Black Sea had taken it all from him.

Never had he felt so… helpless before. He had felt weak plenty of times, but never helpless, never anything he could never do something about. Never… but the Black Sea was the darkness itself.

The approach of Death, the consuming maw of the Dark, and the reality of the hollow soul. Alexander had been mentally crippled after that, and Twilight had to get him a few awakened with mental health skills, as well as therapists to help him. The Black Sea had done more damage to him than anything else; even his master had been unable to placate him for a while.

Though he was sure Arken was more than dying to try the Black Sea for himself.

However, even though those experiences were dire and terrifying, they were also exciting, and disregarding the Black Sea, everything else had lit a spark inside Alexander to improve even further, and further! Earth, however, had taken that spark away.

Master was too busy with the military, and Alan was the same, busy with his own schedule and missions, although mainly because he wanted to take Sabrina out anywhere and everywhere. Besides, Alan wasn’t a fun fight.

He thought Lucas would be able to offer him some reprieve, but the damn bastard had gone to Gigantium. Supposedly, a day before Alexander had his final therapy session. Alexander cursed the pervert and wished he would be back soon. Apparently, Alice had been the one to make him go there.

Perhaps he was searching for an alchemical ingredient? Though he could hardly imagine Lucas doing that, unless Master Arken forced him. Although he would most definitely do it if he developed a crush on Alice.

Still, he wished he would come back soon, safe and stronger. Lucas would be a fun, equal fight, an enjoyable fight. But until the day came when he finally came back, life would be dull.

Even this mission was a walk in the park, simply because he and Alan were here. More emphasis on the latter: Alan could be called the strongest on planet Earth now, save for Ragnar Drakmor, an actual new Epic Being, who had evolved his bloodline to an actual Fire Dragon.

Alan could take anything down in this expedition without breaking a sweat…

‘Can Frost Dragons even sweat?’

The thought crossed his mind, but he focused on other things. Alexander could ask him to stay away if an interesting foe appeared… but would that foe really be comparable to the monster that was Kizmal? Never, he knew Earth had nothing close to the Giant God of Lightning and Power.

Once one faced that monstrosity and experienced the thrill, nothing would really come close. Kizmal, or at the very least, his fragment, had a certain presence and thrill that would be almost impossible to find on Earth.

Maybe only Alan could replicate it, but the two of them would never duke it out to the death. And Alexander knew he would lose.

His mind, although calm, was a mess, as he thought about many things and tried hard to focus on this date, but found himself drifting away. Festul had also abstained from giving him other tips on his bloodline or lineage, thinking it to be better if Alexander focused on this foundation of his first, mastering what he already knew, over dealing with new skills and techniques.

It was something even Arken agreed with, and was thus ingrained in Alexander’s mind, but a part of him hungered for more- what part exactly? He had no idea.

As he went through the date, playing around with his unique affinity, Alexander felt Festul, through their connection, grow restless for a brief moment. It puzzled him, but he refrained from asking, knowing Festul and his pride would never allow him to share something that caused that.

However, Festul broke the silence and asked a simple question, one that confused Alexander, mainly because he wondered where in the hell it was coming from.

[Alexander, what is the name of your father?]