Rayen rushed out of the house, sprinting toward the place where the old man and the elf stood. But the elf, noticing a child running toward them, narrowed his eyes. What? Since when did sir have a kid?
But then something shifted in his gaze. As he looked closer at Rayen, a flicker of shock ran through his expression. Wha—why am I sensing elven presence in that human child? D-Don't tell me… he's a mix?!
Without hesitation, the elf raised a finger. A shimmering barrier formed instantly, locking Rayen in place mid-step. What the—? What is this thing?! Rayen grit his teeth and pushed against it, but the invisible force wouldn't budge.
The old man's expression hardened as he glanced at the elf. "What are you trying to do?"
The elf didn't break eye contact, voice sharp and accusing. "What's the meaning of this, sir? Why is a cursed child here with you?"
Rayen was too far to hear their conversation clearly, but by watching their expressions and the growing tension between them, he could tell—something was wrong.
"He's just a harmless ki—" the old man began, but the elf cut him off sharply.
"We've seen plenty of 'harmless' cursed ones when they were children. But you know exactly what they caused." His voice was cold, almost trembling with a buried fear.
The old man's gaze shifted to Rayen.
"They caused genocide. Wiped out ninety-seven percent of the Elven Civilization and seventy-eight percent of the world population."
The elf pointed straight at Rayen. "And history can repeat itself—because that child… he has elven presence in him. Yet he looks human. That means he's a mix. A half-blood."
The old man's eyes widened. He suddenly recalled the moment the priests trembled at Rayen's unconscious body. So that's what it was…
The old man stared at the ground, his voice quiet but firm. "But still... he's just a child. I'll raise him in an environment where hatred never reaches him. He won't grow up despising the world."
The elf's eyes flared in disbelief. He grabbed the old man by the shoulders and shook him, his voice rising. "What the hell are you saying, sir? Have you forgotten who you are?"
"You're Dattadri—the one who exterminated the cursed ones of the last generation. The man hailed as a savior... even worshipped as a god across civilizations. You were the fiercest enemy of the cursed bloodline. And now—now you defend one?"
He stepped back, eyes burning with betrayal. "If you wanted to pass on your skills, you could've chosen a human... a child from any race, any bloodline! Why him? Why a cursed one?"
The old man stared up at the sky and sighed. "The truth is… this child isn't normal."
The elf narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that? Just because a child seems sweet or harmless now, doesn't mean he won't bring destruction later."
A small smile tugged at the old man's lips. "No, not in that way. I mean… I already tried to kill him."
The elf's eyes widened. "What? Th-Then how is he still alive?"
"That's what makes him unique," the old man said, turning to meet the elf's gaze. "The first time I saw him was when I was out hunting. He was hidden in the tall grass, just a newborn. Even then, I could sense it—he was a cursed one. I wanted to strike him down… but I couldn't bring myself to raise my sword against something so small. So I picked him up and brought him home."
He paused, his eyes distant. "At first, I tried to poison him through food. But as soon as we arrived, he fell unconscious and didn't wake for three years straight. I tried again during that time—stronger poisons, even enchanted ones—but nothing worked. They had no effect. Eventually, I gave up."
"Later, when I took him to the priest to receive a human's blessing, the priest froze. He was terrified. He refused to even come close. He told me to kill the boy immediately."
The elf listened in silence, his expression unreadable.
The old man continued, "I tried again on his third birthday. I gave him a dose meant to stop a wild beast's heart. But he just smiled and said... 'That was delicious.' That moment shook me."
"When I tried to teach him the first step of cultivation—Spirit Enchantment—he meditated for four hours straight on the first day. From the next day, he entered a deep meditation… and didn't wake for two years. He returned only recently."
The old man's gaze sharpened. "And now, I believe he's a transmigrator."
The elf flinched. "You believe in transmigration? That's just an old legend. What proof do you have?"
The old man took a breath. "When he was in that half-dead state from infancy to his third birthday, he never heard a single voice. I never spoke a word around him. No books, no language exposure, nothing. But when he finally woke up… he was fluent. Not like a child learning to speak, but fluent like someone who's already lived."
The elf stood in stunned silence. He looked at Rayen, then back at the old man—unable to find a single word to say.
Then elf took a deep breath and said, "Then it's a bigger iss—"
BOOM!!
An explosion shook the ground where Rayen had been trapped. The old man's eyes widened as he shouted, "Rayen!"
The elf snapped his head toward the blast, scanning the smoke. His expression twisted into disbelief. "Th-that elven presence… it's still alive. And perfectly stable…"
From within the swirling smoke, a silhouette emerged—Rayen. He stepped out, smirking confidently. You little elf… think you can trap the strongest and most experienced player of this game world? Huh—what a kiddo!
The elf's eyes trembled. Th-that was a high-class elven barrier! How… how did he escape it?!
Rayen's smirk widened. I know what you're thinking, elf. "Ohhh, how did that little kid break through this divine-grade barrier?" But honestly, I didn't expect the same damn bug from the game would work here too. That's right... I knew this was a high-tier elven barrier. In the game, there was a glitch—if you touch the lower part of the barrier at a precise angle with the character foots, a small hole opens at the top. In-game, we couldn't control the characters' fingers, so it was nearly impossible to use it. But here… I can.
So I touched the hole. And the moment I did—boom. The barrier exploded outward, and I walked out without a scratch.
Suddenly, Rayen broke into a cough. Ugh... but this smoke though... not part of the plan.
The old man smirked, then glanced at the elf. "What do you think now?"
The elf clenched his fists, lowering his gaze. "H-he's… unique."
"Then I ask just one thing of you," the old man said calmly. "Don't tell anyone about Rayen. I'll train him myself… raise him into a weapon sharp enough to erase the rest of the cursed ones."
The elf gritted his teeth, but said nothing. He turned away and walked off in silence, vanishing into the distance.
Rayen stepped up beside the old man. "Who was that guy? And why did he have pointy ears?"
The old man looked down at him. "His name is Vaelion Thaloril. He's from another civilization. You remember the six civilizations, right?"
Rayen nodded. "Yeah," he began counting on his fingers. "Humans, Elven, Dwarves, Demons, Vampires, and Demi-Humans."
The old man gently patted Rayen's head. "He's from the Elven civilization. The pointed ears are their signature trait. He seemed angry today, but Vaelion is one of the kindest people I know. He's fiercely loyal to his civilization… and that's what makes him dangerous when it comes to cursed ones."
"Cursed ones? What does that mean?" Rayen asked, visibly confused.
The old man realized, Damn, I never explained it to him. He cleared his throat. "They're criminals."
"Ohh, criminals," Rayen nodded in understanding. I remember in one arc of WuXhun Online, I wiped out all the cursed ones... along with seventy-eight percent of the world's population. Though I still don't know if I had to do it, or someone else already caused that massacre in the lore.
The old man stretched his arms with a slight grunt. "Let's move, Rayen… to the shrine."
Rayen tilted his head. "For what?"
The old man, already walking ahead, turned his head just enough to answer, "For the next step of your training."