Simon looked at the boy in front of him with a serious expression. He had wide, tear-filled eyes, his body trembled incessantly, and he let out terrified screams that were even more piercing than Dilo's wails.
With simple psychological suggestion and expert-level Fear magic, he was probably imagining being thrown off a cliff and nearing his end.
Simon chuckled, "Come, child, let me see your potential and your spirit!"
...
Jonas was suspended in mid-air.
He was still screaming loudly, but no sound came out. The air was like a solid sheet of glass, freezing his form and emotions.
"Useless."
Jonas heard someone say that. It sounded familiar—it was his Master's voice.
He blinked, squeezing out his tears, and looked around again. He was floating in mid-air, trying to move his head, but failed.
"Truly useless." Another taunt, this time in his mother's voice.
"We shouldn't have given birth to this thing in the first place." A slurred remark, very familiar—it was his father.
Jonas watched the towering mountains, the forests, grasslands, rivers, and roads on the ground, all slowly disappearing. In the darkness, he felt himself falling again, followed by the excruciating pain of impact.
His skin felt as if it had all exploded, his bones were meticulously shattered, like tiny pebbles rubbing against his nerves. His intestines and other organs were like balloons, bursting open with a 'pop.' His skull drifted in cerebrospinal fluid, gurgling like the sound of water under a frozen river at night. Once the pain surpassed its limit, it no longer hurt as much.
It didn't hurt at all. A person's body was like a lump of flesh, splattering into a puddle when it hit a basin. It was somewhat interesting; death had become a friend about to visit. Checking the time, the appointment was at nine o'clock, and it was already eight fifty-six.
He waited and waited, but the hands of the clock didn't move to fifty-seven for a long time.
Time was truly strange; sometimes it passed quickly, other times slowly. Did It have Its own thoughts?
This old clock might be broken. After all, it was bought before Jonas was born, supposedly some mage's craft, but it wasn't reliable after all. Time was definitely flowing, and I was genuinely feeling the flow of time, so why did the clock stop? Was there something wrong with my perception, or with time?
Perhaps...
"Hurry up! Move faster! You little good-for-nothing, I didn't buy you to slack off!" It was the winery foreman, a ruthless Imperial who worked for the winery owner and treated the slave laborers very harshly.
Jonas wanted to shiver, but he realized he could no longer do even that small thing. Checking the time—it was eight fifty-seven. Sure enough, time was still passing.
In the void before Jonas's eyes, there was no light or darkness; only things themselves possessed color.
A brass grandfather clock lay on its side in the corner of a dilapidated room, covered in cobwebs. The crystal surface was veiled with a faint layer of dust, but the hands and markings were still relatively clear. Additionally, shadowy figures moved in the corridor outside the room, and shouts of reprimand and curses came from far to near, sound waves passing through him and away from him like ripples...
Only one of Jonas's eyeballs remained intact, lying on the ground, still rolling, a nerve connected to his eye socket. His ears were filled with a buzzing sound, making the insults seem blurry.
Almost everyone he knew was mocking Jonas, including his parents, his academy classmates, his mentors, Dilo, and Master Baishan.
Others cursing me doesn't hurt, only Master's words do.
Jonas wanted to take a deep breath, but his lungs were already ruined; he wanted to shed some tears, but only blood kept seeping out; he wanted to ask 'why,' but his vocal cords were already torn.
Why did I end up like this?
Master said to me, 'Learn the art of mental power.'
What else did he say?
It was eight fifty-eight.
Wait, slow down! Why is time passing so quickly now!
What did Master say?
"Useless! You good-for-nothing! How can you be Dragonborn! You are a Breton, and I am a Nord! Those four old men must be senile to say you are Dragonborn!" Dilo's shouts.
"Do you know why I took you in? Because you'll be a good dog. Be obedient, and you'll eat." Master's voice, it sounded so strange.
"Do you hate me? I only earned three gold coins selling you. My poor son, how can you be so useless!"
"Politics! Haha, you'll understand. It's when a few people enslave the many. Child, you'll understand, everyone in the world is equal, but some are more equal!"
So noisy!
You are so noisy!
What exactly do I need to remember?
Eight fifty-nine.
Stop! You stop for me! Hey! Jonas's eyeball stopped moving, fixed on the clock, staring intently, the hands moving at a visible speed.
It would soon be the agreed-upon time.
What is it exactly? What am I supposed to do?
Death is coming, It will come. The room door is behind me, is It already at the door?
...Nine o'clock.
Dong! Dong! Dong!... The grandfather clock chimed nine times.
Amidst the chimes, a soft knocking on the door was so low and clear.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Jonas couldn't move.
Creak, squeak! — The door opened.
Then came footsteps, pat-pat-pat, and some dragging sounds, shhh-shhh-shhh.
A huge shadow enveloped Jonas, covering his eyeball too. Now the boy knew Death had arrived, right behind him.
A slender tongue gently licked the pile of shattered flesh on the ground.
The scorching breath made Jonas's exposed nerves tingle with a numb itch, along with the heat of the tongue and sticky saliva.
The shadow behind Jonas was reflected on the outer crystal of the clock.
It was—a Dragon!
With two wings and two legs, a long neck, a pale golden body, complex and symmetrical horns on its head that were beautiful and elegant, and golden eyes that were solemn, ancient, cold, and playful.
Jonas was rolled up by the tongue and swallowed whole into the Dragon's belly.
...
Simon frowned; Jonas's situation was very wrong.
He no longer trembled. He opened his eyes, and a deep arrogance flowed from the corners of his eyes and brows, like an unceasing river in the wilderness under the stars and moon.
"Mortal, offer your loyalty, and I shall grant you power," the boy said in Dragon Tongue.
The Troll gently unbuttoned his shirt, threw it aside, and replied in Dragon Tongue, "Where did this mongrel come from, daring to bully my child!"
The next moment, both spoke in unison.
"Fus Ro Dah!!!!"
...
Thump.
Thump.
It was the sound of a heartbeat.
Jonas opened his eyes. Light shone through the womb, illuminating the blood vessels, arteries, and veins, all clearly visible.
If these blood vessels were torn apart, would it kill his mother?
Jonas was startled by his own thought. Why would I have such an idea?
Damn human creature, humble weak body, it constrains me...
Jonas grew increasingly panicked. Whose idea was this that was seducing me?
Useless! Don't you understand yet? I am you, and you are me! We are one!
In his mind, two thoughts were in close contact; one weak, one fierce. But the weaker one was much stronger than the fierce one. The boy didn't want to hear his other self vent terrifying emotions, so he pushed the fierce one down, under the water, so no sound would come out.
After a while, that voice floated up again, continuing to babble and throw tantrums. Jonas pushed him down once more, round and round, until finally, the boy gave up.
After all, nothing is difficult in the world if you just give up.
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