CHAPTER 76: UNCLE

This time, the memories flowed into his mind like a giant river. Zephyr unknowingly took a step back, immersed in thoughts.

The fragmented memories that usually made no sense were coming together wondrously. At the same time, the deep emotions the original Zephyr felt crashed into his mind. Overloaded by it, his consciousness drifted into a trance. His eyes lost focus for a second, and he found himself standing in a dilapidated room.

The walls surrounding him were dusty as if they had not been cleaned for months. The low ceiling hung above, carrying a bunch of cob webs. It looked like an abandoned study.

Zephyr coughed as dust flew from the direction of the open window.

’Where am I?’

Shaking his head while coughing, he grabbed onto a table nearby. Accidentally, he pushed a tiny bottle down the table. The bottle fell and crashed onto the rough stone floor, spewing black ink everywhere.

"Ah!"

He gasped and sat on the chair nearby. The sudden change in scenery and what happened later made him confused. But it was nothing compared to how he felt when his body stood up on its own.

"..."

He became eerily silent. Then he finally realised it.

’This is the original Zephyr.’

’This is his memory.’

With the realization, it became a little easier for him to accept the situation.

’I am experiencing his memory. That’s new.’

He said as he watched his body quickly bent down to pick up the ink bottle. The dark black ink spread over his finger as he desperately tried to seal it shut again.

’Why is he panicking? It’s just a bottle of ink.’ He thought.

Meanwhile, his body hurriedly moved the ink bottle back onto the table. At the same time, the door to the room opened from the outside.

"What are you doing?" A cold voice asked.

Zephyr snapped around like a thief who was caught red-handed.

"I..." A higher-pitched voice of the young Zephyr began to speak. "I was looking for a paper."

"A paper?" The other person frowned and looked at Zephyr.

The man was short with a pot belly and a bald head. In much simpler terms, he looked like a goblin wearing human clothes. The worn-out clothes didn’t help much to elevate his presence, despite it being something only nobles wore.

"Why do you need a paper?" The man asked with a grumpy expression, his eyes moving over the ink stain on the floor.

"Uh...nothing. I was...um..." Zephyr stumbled around with his words.

"WHAT?"

"I."

Zephyr gasped, trying to hold back tears.

’Tears!!!’ The soul watched his vision turn blurry and exclaimed. Just a question and a shout from the man had made the young Zephyr cry.

’Who is he?’

"I...I am sorry, uncle." Zephyr muttered while slowly taking out a paper hidden beneath his shirt.

He placed the paper on the table with tears in his eyes.

"Answer me, boy. Why did you take the paper?" The grumpy man walked closer to Zephyr.

Zephyr stepped back, replying.

"I wanted to learn to read and write. My friends were making fun of me for not learning it."

"Do you have friends?" the man asked. "Or, are you calling the merchant’s kids your friends? This kid..." He gritted his teeth and walked closer.

Zephyr’s body naturally reacted, expecting a punch to come his way. He stepped back.

"We are nobles of the kingdom with the blood of a great mage flowing within us. How dare you sully our name by mingling with the merchants and peasants?"

The man swung his fist.

Even though Zephyr expected it, he couldn’t dodge the fist. It flew straight and collided with his face, sending a bolt of pain into his body.

Zephyr stumbled back.

The soul trapped inside experienced the same pain and yelped. It didn’t come close to the pain he felt when he lost an arm.

But still, it was not much worse.

’The fist was enhanced with mana. The damned bastard.’ He realised as he sensed a faint mana pulse coming from it.

At a young age, Zephyr seems to have had the ability to sense mana.

’Anyways, he is a sly kid.’ The soul thought.

While Zephyr placed the paper back on the table, he had seen one more hidden beneath his shirt, almost sticking into his pants. The paper he placed back onto the table was just a distraction to take away the one he had placed beneath his clothes.

"Uncle, I am sorry," Zephyr muttered, protecting his lower abdomen and paper.

"Shut up, bastard." The man grumbled and kicked Zephyr.

Another bout of pain surged through his body.

"Just shut up and die."

Thereafter, the so-called uncle kicked and punched Zephyr for almost an hour. By the time he was finished, Zephyr had become a walking bruise with not even a single patch of skin in its original color.

"Never leave the manor again." The uncle said this and turned to leave while scowling at the ink stain.

Zephyr hugged his knees, lying on the floor, breathing heavily. Blood flowed out of his nose and mouth as he wheezed.

Watching everything play out, the soul felt his blood boil. The memory triggered by the word family was not a great one. It was just as traumatic as his own.

’Is it really a traumatic memory or core memory the body wants me to see?’ The soul mumbled.

A day ago, the body prevented him from watching memories related to him being bullied. But it was willingly showing him getting beaten up.

It was working in mysterious ways that he couldn’t understand.

While the soul analysed the situation, the young Zephyr on the ground stood up. His eyes darted into his shirt, making sure the paper was not ripped before leaving. Then he left the room, limping.

—

A few minutes later, Zephyr climbed into the attic of the dilapidated manor. A bunch of rats hiding nearby squealed in contempt as they watched Zephyr climb up. The young man, although a noble, was living a life far worse than theirs. It was beneath them to interact with him, so they released one more squeal filled with disdain before moving away.

Meanwhile, the young Zephyr took out the paper hidden beneath his shirt. Then he lit an oil lamp to read the contents as if to ensure he had done it correctly.

’Name - Zephyr Venturi.

Age - Thirteen.

I hereby request to participate in the Mage Selection Examination.’

The paper barely had any information. Other than the seal of the household placed at the lower part of the paper, there was nothing important in it.

’Oh!’ Finally, the souls realised what was happening.

’The abusive uncle didn’t allow Zephyr to leave home and join the Storm Tower. He fled from home...’

’But he jumped out of the hot pan into the fire.’

The moment after realization, the entire world turned dark, and the soul found itself in a different location.

The new location showed a larger room with a bed. There, a young woman was lying, holding two newborn babies to her side. The candlelight flickered as Zephyr walked into the room with a heavy heart. He had something difficult to say.