Quisaxinna, my name is...
I am a Confessarius.
This identity is not a choice, but an imprint that comes with every breath and every drop of blood.
From the moment my cries at birth tore through the blood-red curtain of the delivery room, my path was already paved, leading to a predetermined end.
Quisatush...
My younger brother, my blood-related other half, is also mine...
Father.
Ah, how ironic, the most vicious Originium Arts are etched deep within the soul.
"Quisaxinna, why do you look so resistant?"
His voice was always so sickeningly gentle, as if the discussion wasn't about that bleak future.
"Sooner or later, you and I will merge and give birth to the purest and strongest bloodline in this world... This is the law engraved in our blood, the 'destiny' you cannot escape."
I'm going to throw up...
Sadly, I cannot refute it, but not because words are ineffective...
The knowledge I possess, the Originium Arts I wield, even the way I think... all bear his shadow, originating from the same cursed legacy.
Destiny...
Yes, fate.
Our lineage of Confessarius, from my mother to the countless "shes" buried by the dust of history, is inescapable of this cyclical curse.
That demon king, abandoned by the Black Crown and driven to eternal madness, cast this most vicious curse upon us.
It's a tragic cycle where bloodlines become cages, inheritance becomes shackles, and the closest relationships are twisted into tools for reproduction.
I have imagined the scene of plunging a sword into his chest countless times.
Blood splatters, the curse ends, and I may gain a moment of freedom, even if it is followed by utter destruction.
But...
"Will you raise your blade against me, Quisaxinna?"
"Come, unleash your Originium Arts, pour out your fury. You will discover that our destiny has long been intertwined at the soul level... Ultimately, everything will return to 'us'."
I can't do it; this curse makes it impossible for me to defeat him.
I am Confessarius, yet I cannot absolve myself of the original sin in my own blood.
Others revere my power and fear my identity.
Only I know that within this powerful body lies a pitiful soul.
That's it, I can't overcome this tragic fate.
Wait, wait for my destination.
"Quisaxinna, you have a new mission."
He's come again; what sins will he hand over to me this time?
"Studying her, analyzing her, she is the key for me to knock on the door again; my long-cherished wish will be fulfilled through her..."
A girl?
No...
Looking into her empty eyes, I knew what she was.
A container, specially made to fulfill his ambitions.
"I understand, I'll handle it..." He left, leaving behind a suffocating silence, and... her in the cage.
I approached the specially made cage, where a small, thin figure was curled up, like a young Fowlbeast...
"May I have your name?"
"..."
There was no answer, as expected.
A carefully crafted container, a tool for holding ambition and Originium Arts.
Why would it need a name, and how would it know how to respond?
The experiments continued day after day, and her Originium Arts talent was astonishing.
That was a healing ability with astonishing activity, quite different from the berserk combat skills of most Sarkaz.
Every test was an abuse of her body.
"My wound... my wound is healed!"
The wounded soldier was helped away by his comrades, while the girl in the cage trembled violently.
Her colleagues used far too brutal methods, forcibly stimulating her potential with drugs, completely disregarding the consequences.
Her legs had long since lost all feeling from repeated experiments like this, becoming a sacrifice to this terrible talent.
"Well..."
A sigh escaped his lips, unsure whether it was for her or for himself, also trapped in a cage.
As if possessed, I opened the cage.
Without asking anyone's permission, they carried her out to a secluded spot away from the laboratory and wiped away the stains with warm water.
Her body trembled incessantly in my hands, whether from weakness or from the deep-seated effects of the medication, I couldn't tell.
But from beginning to end, she didn't utter a single cry of pain, nor did her expression change at all; she simply stared with those empty eyes, letting me do as I pleased.
It's like... a delicate but lifeless doll.
The moment this thought crossed my mind, intense self-loathing almost overwhelmed me.
Ah... what right do I have to judge her like that?
I stopped before taking her back to the cage.
The metal lock is right here; I just need to close it gently, and everything will be back on track. I am still the Confessarius, Quisaxinna.
"Don't want..."
She spoke?
She actually spoke! She expressed her wishes!?
An artificial object deemed devoid of its own soul, a container that should only know how to receive instructions, actually showed resistance!
She is resisting.
If... if she wasn't just a soulless vessel, if she was being born, or struggling to give birth to her own will...
Then what about everything I've done so far—those experiments I observed, assisted, and acquiesced to, those pains I've inflicted on her in the name of research?
I, Quisaxinna, am a pathetic creature who believes myself to be trapped by fate and powerless to resist.
Is he playing the role of an accomplice to that man, imposing the same cruel fate on another life that may be awakening?
No!!!
I can't... go on like this any longer!
At the very least, I cannot become another "Quisatush"!
"Do you... want a name?"
"Name?"
"Hmm, name."
"Liz."
"From today onwards, this will be your name."
I started planning to escape with Liz, but a huge mountain stood in my way.
Quisatush...
He's been keeping an eye on Liz, but I haven't had a chance...
No, I must create opportunities.
I... must fight for Liz!
The opportunity has arrived ahead of schedule.
For some unknown reason, General Theresis suddenly summoned Quisatush, and the person who came to summon him was even the God of War.
Quisatush has left; this is the best opportunity!
The pursuers are increasing in number, but fortunately, even though I loathe this body, its strength is enough to deal with them.
According to the original plan, I was going to cross Columbia to reach Kazimierz.
But then, I happened to meet Him.
"The Shapeshifter..."
"Hmm? You're the one next to Quisatush..."
The moment I heard that name, I drew my sword, even knowing I was no match for it.
As I expected, even though I shattered Him into pieces, He quickly reappeared before me.
My swordsmanship is useless against it. Shall I use Originium Arts...?
"Don't be so rough, we mean you no harm."
He didn't attack me, but simply gazed into the distance, where... was there a fire?
"Here's a piece of advice: don't go any further this way, if you don't want to meet your end prematurely."
I don't know if that was a threat, but I had no other choice.
I have to change my route...
Kazdel... I never imagined I'd end up here.
But Quisatush has caught up with me, and I have no choice but to find someone who can protect Liz.
I thought of that prince.
Only the Demon King can defeat the Demon King.
But... fate did not favor me.
A Catastrophe blocked my way, and it was too late to take a detour.
They were about to catch up, so they had to hide Liz to lure them away.
"Liz, hide here! No matter what happens, don't come out!"
I don't know if Liz understood, but I have to leave...
No!
Liz isn't here! Did the Confessarius find her!?
No, if that's the case, they have no reason to pursue me any further.
I will find you, Liz.
"I really didn't know! She's already been bought!"
"Believe me, sir! I haven't mistreated her at all; even her cage is the best!"
"Roll!"
Yes! Yes!
The trail has gone cold; Liz has been bought. What kind of person is she?
How will he treat Liz?
Will Liz once again become a tool for treatment?
Just when I was feeling anxious, an unexpected person appeared...
"I heard you're looking for someone. Do you need help, Miss Confessarius...?"
"Who are you?"
You can call me... Scar Eye.
"So, you're the one who helped Liz escape?"
The tense atmosphere in the camp eased slightly after the other side voluntarily disarmed themselves and even calmly accepted being bound by ropes.
The crowd listened as this so-called Confessarius, who called himself Shining, recounted a brief story about imprisonment, awakening, escape, and separation.
"Ridiculous..."
Vera's voice broke the silence, and a dark blade was suddenly placed against Shining's neck.
"Rescue her?" Vera leaned forward slightly.
"Who do you think her suffering comes from? Isn't it from you Confessarius?"
The cold blade pressed against her skin; Shining neither flinched nor tried to explain.
She lowered her eyes slightly, her voice carrying an undisguised heaviness:
"You're right, that's a guilt I can't shirk. I witnessed, condoned, and even...assisted in the atrocities inflicted on her."
"My hands are already covered in dust. I deserve to be punished for this."
As she spoke, she even tilted her neck forward slightly.
The sharp blade sliced through her skin instantly, the line of blood standing out starkly against her pale complexion.
Just then, Vera felt a gentle tug on the hem of her dress behind her.
Liz tilted her head slightly and gazed at her quietly, Vera frowned.
"You're going to plead for her? Even if she was one of the perpetrators?"
Liz's gaze shifted between Vera and Quisaxinna before she finally nodded slightly.
She raised her hand, pointed to her heart, then to Quisaxinna, whose sword was pointed at her, her voice weak yet clear:
"She... is also injured, I can tell."
Vera remained silent for a few seconds, then flicked her wrist and retracted the sword.
"You've escaped with your life, Confessarius."
Vera said coldly, taking a step back to re-evaluate the other person.
"But that doesn't mean I trust you, nor does it mean the past can be wiped clean."
Thank you for your understanding.
"Shining said in a low voice, looking just like a devout nun."
"Shut up."
Vera interrupted her impatiently, cutting straight to the point.
"You didn't show up here just to tell a story or get beaten up. What's your purpose? To take Liz away?"
"No..."
Shining bowed slightly to Vera and explained the purpose of his visit.
"I'm here to join you."
"Ha?"