"Hey, Mom, why aren't you eating that?" Anon asked, his brow furrowed in concern as his mother, Lux, pushed aside the vibrant dish he had prepared with such care. The aromatic steam wafting from the sizzling meat and vegetables mingled with the scent of fresh herbs, but Lux's gaze lingered on the colorful array with an unmistakable air of disdain. "My son, you didn't understand me at all," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment, her voice like a gentle breeze on a summer's day, yet laced with a hint of sorrow. "This, that, those – none of these are my favorites. Even this emerald green leaf you served above my rice! I only eat plain rice." Anon's eyes dropped, his face a picture of resignation as he recalled his mother's peculiar aversion to colors. She detested every hue except white – be it in food, garments, or even people. Her affinity for the color had always been a source of frustration for Anon, and he had long given up trying to understand or argue with her about it. The soft clinking of utensils against the plate seemed to echo the awkward silence that filled the room, a silence punctuated only by the distant chirping of birds outside. Anon's face was downcast, indicating he had given up on arguing about her hobbies and decided to let her be.
As Lux left to buy some clothes, a letter arrived for Anon, its cream-colored envelope adorned with the royal seal of the kingdom of Goret, embossed in gold. The message within, penned in elegant calligraphy, announced the upcoming tournament to decide the next ruler of the kingdom. King Gymenium Goret the 11th, in his wisdom, had decreed that strength and determination would be the defining qualities of his successor. "My chosen candidates, I am King Gymenium Goret the 11th. As my time draws to a close, I have decided to ensure a fitting ruler leads our kingdom into a brighter future. A tournament will be held, with three simple yet demanding rules: Firstly, each candidate must defeat five great soldiers, each exceptionally skilled and battle-hardened. These soldiers have been handpicked from the finest warriors in the kingdom, and their prowess in combat is renowned. Candidates must emerge victorious against each of the five soldiers to progress. Secondly, the tournament will feature a dynamic elimination process. If a candidate fails to defeat the five soldiers while others succeed, they will be disqualified from the tournament. The remaining candidates who successfully defeat the five soldiers will proceed to the next stage. Lastly, the remaining four candidates will engage in a two-round battle. In the first round, they will be paired against each other, and the winners will advance to the final round. The last two candidates standing will then engage in a conclusive battle, and the victor will be crowned the winner of the tournament and the next ruler of the kingdom."
"I expect each of you to demonstrate not only strength and determination but also strategic thinking and leadership qualities. The fate of the kingdom rests on the outcome of this tournament, and I have every confidence that the worthy successor will emerge victorious." Anon decided to focus on enhancing his physical strength and techniques, choosing to suppress his formidable powers to compete fairly and fulfill his promise to Luna. He remembered his father's words: "Choose the hardest path to grow." These words had guided him to avoid abusing his power to control and belittle others. To suppress his power, Anon closed his eyes, relaxed his soul, and imagined a delicate glass vase overflowing with crystal clear water. He then visualized containing it, symbolizing his efforts to restrain his powers. A small leak persisted, and he managed to bring his strength to a level comparable to that of a strong human.
With his training underway, Anon turned his attention to one of the other candidates – Nexus Nebula, a mysterious figure shrouded in secrecy. Determined to uncover more about Nebula's background, Anon scoured the city, gathering details and piecing together fragments of information. However, every lead ended in dead silence, leaving him with nothing but the faint connection to the stars implied by Nebula's name. Seeking to gauge his own strength, Anon entered a local underground fight, donning a mask to conceal his identity. As "Dan Ny," a traveler from the east, he stepped into the arena, the cheers of the audience fueling his adrenaline. The facilitator's booming voice echoed through the venue: "Hot-headed people! Are you ready to witness a barbaric fight...!" The audience cheered, their voices a cacophony of excitement and anticipation.
The battle commenced, and Anon unleashed a powerful kick, creating a sonic boom that left the crowd in stunned silence. However, his shock was greater as Dense effortlessly broke his leg with a swift counterattack.
The sound of cracking bone and the searing pain that followed left Anon reeling. "What?" Anon was shocked, his eyes wide with surprise. As the fight continued, Anon discovered that Dense was an enigma, his strength beyond human comprehension. Dense moved like a monster, directly arriving at Anon's side without seeming to move from his original position. Anon's concentration wavered, but he refused to back down, intrigued by Dense's enigmatic words: "I didn't expect a mere human to match me in my weakest mode." The realization that Dense was holding back only fueled Anon's resolve to push himself further.
Anon, in some moments, thought to unleash his power to defeat him, but his father's words stopped him from doing so. That's why he continued to attack and use his human strength to find flaws in Dense's tough body. He then ran circling Dense to find a way to defeat him, but Dense didn't take his eyes off him. Dense attacked him with a punch, at first Anon thought that this punch was just so weak, but when Dense continued to punch him non-stop, it became stronger and stronger until Anon backed off from Dense to avoid a killing move.
The fight raged on until a familiar voice pierced the air – Anon's mother, cheering for Dense, whom she referred to as "Mr. White hood." Her affinity for the color white dictated her allegiance, and Anon's distraction cost him dearly. Dense seized the opportunity, landing a devastating blow that sent Anon flying out of the arena, leaving a massive crater in the ground. The impact was jarring, and the sound of cheering crowds seemed to fade into the distance as Anon struggled to process his defeat.
The facilitator's voice boomed, announcing Dense as the winner, and the audience erupted in applause, including Anon's mother, who was beaming with enthusiasm. Anon slowly picked himself up, his body aching from the intense battle. Despite the pain, he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, realizing that this defeat was a valuable lesson. As he made his way home, he couldn't help but think about his father's words: "Choose the hardest path to grow." The pain and the loss were a bitter pill to swallow, but Anon knew that this was the path he had chosen.
Upon returning home, Anon found his injuries severe, but he was relieved to finally taste defeat and understand the value of humility. To heal himself, he unleashed his suppressed power, and his body began to recover at an incredible rate. Just as he finished, he heard the door open, and his mother walked in, a smile still plastered on her face. "I'm home," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Anon looked at her, still trying to process the events of the day. "And what is the meaning of the look?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
His mother replied, "A hero has appeared and beat up the bad guy." Anon's expression darkened, knowing that the "bad guy" his mother referred to was actually him, the fighter in black. The contrast between his mother's reaction and the reality of the situation was stark, and Anon couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. Despite this, he chose not to confront her, knowing that their differences would never be bridged. Instead, he let the matter slide, focusing on his own growth and the challenges that lay ahead in the tournament. The silence between them was palpable, each lost in their own thoughts, as the day drew to a close.