PROLOGUE: The Dark Beginning

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"Aim properly girl!" A sound of whip colliding against flesh sounded across the background, followed by a muffled cry of pain. A middle-aged woman stood by the porch, lips pursed, eyes saddened. "Roku-san, do you think..." Before she could finish, the whip landed on her leg, opening a deep wound on her ankle. "Shut up woman, she deserves it. If she can't even land a hit on me, how can she serve Master?!" The man yelled righteously, glaring at the girl on the ground, who was holding a teethed dagger. The woman moved to speak again, but stopped. Instead, she went back in the house. "Come on girl, stand up and fight me." The girl stood, her small physique looked frail but determined. She rushed at the man, holding the dagger high. The man chuckled darkly before vines erupted from the ground, all heading towards her. The small figure did not falter, but tried to avoid the vines as much as possible. Flames rose between her fingers and the shadows flickered briefly, but they did not move further.

It was clear that she is gifted, but she did not use it. She knew what would happen if her father, the man found out that she has. It would mean beatings, starvation and mother suffering with her. "Come on, girl, FIGHT ME!" He yelled, smiling savagely. She glared at the man. She hates this, this training that would make her 'worthy', as he says, to serve the master that wants her so much. "I hate you." She whispered, trying her hardest to get to the figure surrounded by the thorned vines. "Come on girl, it's been five years, IMPROVE!" She rolled her eyes. "I can shoot your head 5 miles away with a handgun and get away with it." She wanted to say, to shout, to scream at this monster, to tell him to back off, but she couldn't, not with mother's life on the line, and so the days continued.

--4 years later--

"Happy birthday darling." The woman said with a smile. The girl looked up from her book, smiling back, her eyes wide as she took in the small but intricate birthday cake. Her heterochromatic eyes seemed much more vibrant, one red, one black, both gleaming with happiness. But her smile quickly faded as the gate banged open, signifying the start of her worst nightmare. The woman tried to keep the birthday cake but it was too late. The door swung open and both of them froze like deer caught in headlights. The man's heavy breathing feels like the winter wind caressing their hearts as they take in the monstrous sight in front of them. "Welcome home." The woman whispered timidly, and the girl stared at her father coldly. Nine years of ruthless training with this man made her numb to his anger. But it did not numb her enough for what comes next. The man stared at the birthday cake held in her mother's hands, and abruptly went insane. He took out the knife that he always keeps in his pockets and lunged at the woman. The girl screamed and attempted to stop him but the vines he materialized held her in place. He pushed the woman down and slashed at her until all that remains is a battered corpse and a destroyed birthday cake. The air went dead for a second, as the man knelt over the body of his wife, as the girl, his 12-year-old daughter cried silently, watched on, she felt rage, pure uncontrolled rage.

A strangled yell escaped her mouth before black flames erupted from her, enveloping her entire house. Everything it came in contact with burnt away, leaving nothing behind, not even dust. After the flames died, all that was left was her mother's corpse, a crumpled picture of her family and the slumped figure of the worn-out girl, her eyes still gleaming through her eyelids. As her consciousness faded to black, she faintly remembers a cat walking out of the bushes nearby, unharmed somehow.

"You are awake." The girl blinked before materializing a dagger made of fire out of thin air, throwing it at the middle-aged man across the room. The dagger stopped inches from his forehead. "Who are you?" She asked, her voice hoarse from dehydration. Her man looked at the dagger interestingly before answering, "Impressive control. I am Natsume. I picked you up from the fire. Your mother, I presume, is buried not far from here. My deepest condolences." The girl froze, the dagger dissipated, before tears started falling down her cheeks. The man sighed, walking over to her. He placed an arm on her shoulder, before she knew it, she was crying freely. There sat the two, one comforting the other. After a short shower and a nice, hot meal, she sat down, eyes blank. "Natsume-sama, what do I do now?" The man looked at her from top to bottom. "Well, there's money in the card on the table, As for a job, how about a mercenary? You have great skills and somehow, a lot of combat experience. Be sure to read a lot. I do not know what you have been doing for the past years but education is very important too." The girl got up and bowed deeply towards the man. "How can I ever repay you?" The man tilted his head to one side, and smiled.

"Well, Shira-chan, you owe me a favor, and one day, I'll call it in."

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