Chapter 2
The world is unfair and it sucks.
That was a thought Kraush often had.
He realized this around the age of eight.
It was the day he first swung a sword, following after his siblings.
In that moment, Kraush understood that the world had abandoned him.
Because swinging the sword made him feel utterly pathetic.
In fact, does it even make sense for an eight-year-old to wield a sword?
The family Kraush belonged to was one where such average reactions didn’t apply.
The strongest family in the Starón Kingdom.
Balheim.
All direct descendants born there were geniuses, each one outstanding—except for Kraush, the disgrace of Balheim.
Despite that, he somehow clawed his way into the generation of the heavens.
But in the end, it was all wrapped up with betrayal from those he thought were allies.
A body that could only contain curses.
Indeed, it was a miserable life.
That’s how Kraush felt.
Until today, before he opened his eyes.
Flash!
Kraush looked at the blurry ceiling shining through his opened eyes.
Cold sweat drenched his entire body.
At the same time, he saw his sprawled hand reaching forward.
The hand that reached out towards Arthur in a final desperate attempt.
As Kraush stared at that hand, he gradually began to regain his senses.
Buzz buzz—
The sound of cicadas whispered into his ears from beyond the window.
The streaming light told him it was summer afternoon right now.
The unique stifling heat of summer caused beads of sweat to form on his forehead.
The world he had been crumbling in was an unbearably cold winter, making this season feel like the complete opposite.
His gaze shifted back down to his hand.
“What the—?”
Because the hand reflected in his eyes was completely intact.
Kraush’s mind went blank.
Along with that, he realized one more crucial thing.
His once-blind eye could see perfectly fine.
It wasn’t just that.
His entire body felt strangely light compared to before.
Drip—
Sweat dropped from Kraush’s forehead and slowly trickled down his cheek.
Looking around, he realized he was in a familiar room.
Because it was the same room he had stayed in back when he was with the Balheim family.
What on earth was going on?
The answer was simple.
‘Could it be…’
The Black Hood, which contained the desperation of his outstretched hand towards Arthur at the end.
Was the skill he used perhaps capable of stealing skills too?
‘He snatched Arthur’s reincarnation. ’
The moment he realized this, a chill ran down his spine.
At the same time, Kraush looked down at his hands.
Just maybe he could really steal skills too.
Kraush clenched his fist tightly.
The thrill of success from his final gamble surged through his entire body.
‘In fact, I could’ve checked this earlier.’
It was an ability that could absorb curses.
So it was only natural to think he could steal skills as well.
However, Kraush didn’t bother testing it before.
Even if he stole it, he didn’t have any confidence in utilizing a skill someone had honed over their entire life.
And by the time he thought he could steal skills, his body had already been ravaged by curses.
Not to mention that his Black Hood had a clear downside.
‘The difficulty of stealing ultimately relies on the target’s perception.’
A rock picked up off the street could be the most precious thing to someone.
In that case, even if it were just a rock, stealing it with the Black Hood wouldn’t be easy.
‘The locks that appear when using the Black Hood hold certain conditions.’
The conditions for the locks that appeared upon activating the Black Hood were vastly diverse.
And you had to meet those conditions before opening the lock to gain what’s inside.
That was the essence of the Black Hood.
‘So, the abilities become even harder to steal.’
Naturally, a person’s own ability is the most treasured thing.
Thus, the difficulty of the conditions to steal them is extremely high.
‘But how did this happen this time?’
When he was stealing Arthur’s reincarnation, Kraush didn’t see any locks.
He simply activated the Black Hood and stole Arthur’s ability to reincarnate.
How could that have been possible?
‘Maybe…’
A thought brushed through Kraush’s mind.
He felt a vague sense he had received from Arthur.
It was the feeling of exhaustion from just going through the motions all day long.
To Kraush, it seemed like Arthur had gone through reincarnation several times already.
Reincarnation was undoubtedly an immense power.
But if one repeated it numerous times, a typical mind wouldn’t be able to endure.
Especially in a world teetering towards destruction.
‘So, Arthur chose the option of memory transmission for the next round.’
He must have at least wanted to have someone by his side even if he’d reincarnate again.
The problem was that he hadn’t treated Kraush like that at all.
‘Still, deep down, Arthur may have wanted to erase the ability to reincarnate.’
As a result, he could easily steal his ability to reincarnate to the extent that no lock appeared.
‘For Arthur, reincarnation might have been…’
Perhaps a curse he desperately wanted to break free from.
“Hold on.”
Then suddenly, another thought crossed Kraush’s mind.
He had stolen Arthur’s reincarnation and returned to the past.
So what would happen to the Arthur he knew?
‘What the Black Hood steals doesn’t remain with the target.’
If it did remain, it wouldn’t be called stealing.
He had stolen reincarnation from Arthur, which meant sure enough that Arthur no longer had the ability to reincarnate.
So the Arthur he once knew was left behind in the prior cycle, right before the world’s destruction?
Facing the meteor shower of world erosion pouring down?
“Ha, haha.”
A laugh bubbled out of Kraush’s mouth.
“Serves you right, Arthur.”
Who would have guessed that the reincarnation you detested so much would ultimately betray you in the end?
With a sneer directed at Arthur, Kraush stood up.
No sympathy emerged for someone who had merely treated him like a tool.
In fact, shouldn’t he be thanking Arthur instead?
Since he had taken away the very reincarnation Arthur hated so much.
‘So what year is it now?’
But Kraush also shared the same problem as Arthur.
That was the knowledge of the world’s end.
The destruction that even the generation of the heavens couldn’t prevent.
If he couldn’t stop that, he’d die too.
“Damn it.”
Kraush cursed as he rose from the bed.
He felt his reasonably muscular body.
Even without talent, he had swung a sword every day to survive.
Though his physique might be terrible compared to his siblings, at least he had developed a minimum level of muscle.
But he knew that wasn’t enough.
Kraush’s gaze turned toward the full-length mirror reflecting him back.
He looked to be in his early teens.
He noticed he was shorter and saw clear, sparkling blue eyes—a stark contrast to his hazy memories.
‘Can I stop it?’
Would he, who had once been treated merely as a tool for absorbing curses, really be able to stop the world’s destruction?
As the question lingered in his mind, Kraush clenched both his fists tightly.
‘Stop whining.’
It wasn’t about whether he could stop it, but rather that he had to stop it.
If the world ended, his life would also be over—he had no options.
With that resolve, Kraush kicked open the door.
The desolate hallway he hadn’t seen in ages entered his view.
This was the Green Pine Hall of the Balheim family, where he had spent his childhood long ago.
Although it was called a Green Pine Hall, it could easily be interpreted as a place where the most useless direct descendants of Balheim were exiled.
The Green Pine Hall was so small that it was operated with only one butler and three maids.
‘Being here means…’
It indicated that the ceremony of proof he underwent at around ten years old had concluded.
“Hey, Young Master! Where are you in such a hurry?”
At that moment, a butler came out and spoke to him.
The old butler with a noticeable white beard was named Aliod.
He was assigned to the Green Pine Hall alongside Kraush.
Upon seeing his face, Kraush’s eyes widened in realization.
‘Oh, so Aliod is alive at this point too.’
It made sense since Aliod was the only one who had cared for him in the Balheim family.
For the first time in ages, Kraush felt compelled to call out his name.
“Aliod.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
Hearing Kraush’s call, Aliod lowered his head, and Kraush couldn’t help but smile back.
“So when were you planning to use the poison that my third brother gave me to kill me?”
Aliod’s face froze in shock.
Kraush continued smiling, observing Aliod’s stunned demeanor.
Aliod, the butler of the Green Pine Hall.
The very man who had poisoned the stew Kraush received from his third brother at around fourteen years old—the first betrayal Kraush had ever experienced.
That very culprit.
