Essence.
The driving force of everything. The life energy of all existence.
It is said that everything, living or nonliving, releases a strange phenomenon known as essence, each carrying its own distinct signature its own breath of being.
Early humans discovered that the world itself exuded this same energy, flowing unseen through the air, the earth, the stars above. They named it Essence, the fundamental power of life and reality.
Through generations of study, humanity learned that Essence was compatible with them. It responded to will. It answered desire. And in doing so, it granted them power.
At its most basic, there was the Primal Essence the formless energy of the world, shared by all living things. But from that primal source came something greater.
Materialistic Essence born from the world's own features and aspects. The flames of volcanoes, the light of the sun, the whisper of the wind.
Those who could wield Materialistic Essence gained authority over the corresponding aspect of nature. Fire-wielders shaped infernos; wind-callers commanded storms; and light-bearers purified corruption.
Each Materialistic Essence was unique, divided, and alive in its own right.
Essence is not merely power; it has a will of its own. It does not bond with everyone. It chooses.
Harian was chosen.
He carried, and was given, a rare thing: the Void Essence the essence of nothingness. The Void reached for him, judged him worthy, and granted its authority. That choice would change everything.
But the things he planned to use this power for were questionable to say the least.
[FOR NOW, YOU HAVE LIMITED ESSENCE TO USE,] Vex said. [SO YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL. BUT, JUST LIKE IN YOUR PREVIOUS LIFE, YOU CAN DEVOUR ESSENCE OF OTHERS. HOWEVER, HIGHER ESSENCE IS HEAVILY ADVISED NOT TO BE TAKEN. TO DEVOUR PHYSICAL CONTACT WITH SUBJECT IS ADVICED]
And so, to test this, a worthy test subject was approaching.
"I think we should quiet down," George said, breaking Harian's thoughts back to the present. He was worried for his friend and what the guard might do.
Yet still, Harian gave him a reassuring look.
Then he told everyone to follow his lead. They all were doubtful except for the knocked-out red-haired kid. Sleeping soundly in the corner.
The kid slept soundly in the corner as the guard reached the cell."You sons of bitches won't learn, will you? This is the prison of Thax. There is no mercy here for the likes of you."
"Oh, the ogre-face man is here," Harian said, throwing the insult without looking away from the kid.
"How dare you!" the guard shouted as he opened the door, his hands twitching and itching to beat Harian senseless, he didn't care if the boy died.
"This boy is to receive punishment. None of you are to get in the way," he demanded, brandishing his crackling cane.
"Afraid someone might bother you beating a kid?" Harian mocked. George started to protest, but Harian gave him a look to reassure him, he knew what he was doing.
"I knew you'd be the cause of all the ruckus, Harian Liche," the guard spat. "For a thief, you talk too much. No wonder you got caught."
He sneered, then pointed his cane at George. "Especially the big one there."
That earned him a glare from Harian sharp, cold, and far too old for a seventeen-year-old. The guard froze for a heartbeat, an involuntary shudder crawling up his spine. Even George was startled. He'd grown up with Harian, seen him angry, sarcastic, stubborn but never like this. This wasn't the face of a boy. It was the look of someone who had seen too much.
The guard scoffed, trying to shake it off. "A peasant dares give me such a look?"
Harian's grin turned devilish. "Then do something about it."
"Boy, don't be reckless!" Muliad shouted.
But Harian didn't move.
The old man tensed. George, panicked, lurched forward. "Harian!" he shouted, ready to throw himself between them....but the knight moved first.
The blade cut through the air in a silver arc, Essence trailing like fire. Too fast. No one could react in time.
However-...Harian stepped aside and the cane whooshed past him. Too easy.
Everyone froze. Even Muliad muttered, as if surprised at a seasoned fighter: "He's… dodging."
Then another swing came again Harian dodged it. Muliad saw how effortless it almost look after he simply moved out the way of every attack. He could not believe his eyes. Harian was fine with every move yet the guard frustration only grew with more attack angry he could not hit the 17 year old skinny boy.
He tried to catch his breath and he didn't know how Harian had broken his chains, or how he was dodging so easily but he knew, with a hard, sinking certainty, that this was the end.
Everyone could feel it an almost tangible heat filling the air as Essence surged around the knight. The temperature rose sharply, and the air itself seemed to tremble.
"He's using Essence!" Muliad shouted. "Boy, if you don't run now you'll die!"
The guard held his ground. "There's no running away. I'm done wasting time," the knight growled. "Your execution has been moved up to now. Start saying your last rights, boy."
As he slowly got up he threw his cane aside, the metal clattering against the floor, and drew his sword with a clean, practiced motion. The stance he took was precise measured one belonging to a seasoned killer.
Harian didn't even blink. The corners of his lips twitched upward into a mocking grin, eyes gleaming with amusement.
Then he launched into another attack this time must faster cleaner and swifter with essence mixed in the attack Harian barely shifted. He tilted his left shoulder by an inch. The sword missed cleanly, slicing only air. Before anyone could comprehend it, his fist shot forward.
A dull, brutal crack echoed through the cell. The knight's eyes went wide. His breath hitched. Harian's knuckles were buried deep in his ribs.
The sound of breaking bone silenced the entire room.
Everyone froze.
Harian straightened, brushed some dust off his shoulder, and looked back at the guard with bored eyes.
"That was slow," he said flatly. "Vex," Harian whispered.
[UNDERSTOOD.]
Vex's voice echoed in his mind as contact was made.
[PHYSICAL CONTACT ACHIEVED. DEVOUR FIELD ACTIVATED.]
The effect was instant.
The guard froze mid-breath. The agony in his ribs spread like molten metal through his chest, and with it came something worse weakness. His strength bled away, his Essence sputtered out like a dying flame. He dropped to his knees, coughing blood onto the floor.
The entire room went still. No one spoke. No one moved.
Then, through that silence, the guard let out a guttural roar. His face twisted with fury as he forced himself upright, veins bulging against the strain. He wasn't finished not yet.
"Stop!" Muliad shouted, but there was no way to pull Harian back now. Whatever luck had saved the boy before wouldn't save him again.
The guard's hand trembled as he lifted his sword. "Song Sword Art," he hissed.
Muliad's eyes went wide. "Get out! That's the royal sword technique of the kingdom!"
The guard's mouth curled into a mad grin, teeth bared, eyes burning with Essence light. "I'll turn you into minced meat, boy!"
[DEVOUR FIELD HAS ABSORBED THE NEEDED ESSENCE. CURRENT LEVEL AT 2.5%. INCREASE OF 0.2%.]
Harian's grin widened. "That's more than enough."
No one saw it the way his hand darted for the fallen Othril chains, wrapping them tight around his knuckles. The torches along the walls flickered, light bending strangely as something unseen stirred in the air.
Shadows crawled toward him, drawn by something deeper than gravity.
And Harian was calm, almost amused began walking forward, each step slow, deliberate, his grin never leaving his face.
Shit was about to go down.