Who Are You?

Arc 3.2 - Luther Abravel

Child soldiers were common. Training from young is important. The four kingdoms were always at war and not always were there enough adult men and women to fight. Raising children to be skillful deadly fighters into adulthood to be put into the field were the only way they could keep up.

Only those whom had nothing to lose, desperate for strength, desperate for food were chosen for recruitment. They are trained in all types of skills and techniques, instilling a kill or be killed mentality.

Ruthless?

No. It's efficient.

Luther was weak, scrawny and traumatized. But he was put into a group full of other children suffering through the same thing. The only thing that kept them apart was his hair. He was outcasted.

He lived in that life for years, training, fighting, and surviving. He killed other children, men, women and elderly. Throughout all that he stayed stoic, indifferent. He slowly lost all parts of vulnerability and humanity inside him since witnessing his mother's cold blooded death. He no longer cared of anything other than his orders, his training and his personal vengeance.

During that time, the commander, Hendrik Abravel kept a close eye on him from beginning to end. Luther showed impressive results and had only gotten better over the years. It only proved to Hendrik that Luther would be the perfect heir.

Without hesitation Hendrik Abravel adopted him into aristocracy. Luther took in the surname Abravel and became the only heir of the Abravel family. His life only became more difficult.

Many of those in nobility were dissatisfied with Hendrik Abravel's rash decision of adopting a peasant commoner from unknown origins and strange features.

And some were even bold enough to take matters into their own hands.

Many times Luther's life was in danger from not only the recruitment but from those in status. So all he could do was grow stronger underneath Avrailium's command to the point of leading the empire's army.

His name spread. His reputation grew. He was given the nickname of Demon General who bears white-hair.

He became their favourite weapon.

His life that had only centred on the violence of the front lines inevitably ended at the hands of the enemy.

His only regret was that he failed to find and murder each and every single person who had destroyed his happiness. Unfortunately, a few of them had managed to infest their way into the other kingdoms that it was impossible to hunt them all down.

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -

He's being interrogated and tortured. Quite a shitty experience to have to suffer through, actually.

Luther felt lucid as his head lolled to a side as the man finally dropped the whip.

It's been 3 days since Luther arrived in this world and the trend seems to be whipping, beatings and verbal assaults.

So far, Luther could tell that these people were the soldiers of Vraigania who had managed to capture his host body during a recon mission.

His hair was once again pulled back till he felt his scalp bleed. Luther had to clench his teeth to hold back the string of curses against the original host's character.

The man glared into Luther's obsidian eyes, looking for a sign of regret and fear but all he found was empty, dead orbits.

"Where are the rest of your Avrailium scum hiding?" The cold words were repeated again and again that Luther barely registered them now.

But just to aggravate the man, he spit the blood out of his mouth and didn't respond.

Scowling, the man slammed Luther's face into his knee kick, breaking his nose if not fracturing it.

Luther Abravels character required no weakness to show during torture and injuries. He had already gotten a few warnings by the system for going Out Of Character just for letting out a groan or scream. That in itself was a new set of torture. Luther didn't have an outlet to endure the pain. But there was nothing he could do.

He's chained to the walls, his head hurts, his whole body is on the brink of collapse, he's kneeling on a pool of blood and other liquid substances Luther would rather not mention, and he barely had any points to his name... not that he could even buy anything from the system store in the first place. He just had to have the worst luck imaginable by getting a character that never seemed to feel to pain or emotions, a character who was very ruthless to his own self on multiple occasions.

And now his nose is bleeding like a FUCKING BITCH!

'God it burns! Ohhh shit! Fuck! Fuckkk my lifeee!!'

Luther limped down, only the chains holding him up, he took slow deep breaths through the cracks of his teeth. Enduring.

"Perhaps we need a new approach to get you talking."

Those ominous words distantly rung in Luther's ears. Before he could think on it more two men came to his sides and tore the chains off his arms, hauling him up and dragging him out of the cell.

They dragged him all the way to the end of the path. They approached a new room and inside was a hard, steel bench. Luther could do nothing as they pushed him down the bench and shackled his bruised wrists and ankles tight.

He watched with dispirited eyes as they brought out a rag.

Swiftly they strangled the rag over his face. Over his fucking broken nose!

But what came next made him forget the sensation of his nose all together, it made him want to die. He couldn't breath. He couldn't breat- he was drowning!