Chapter 582: Hero Or A Monster?
The plan had seemed simple at first.
Feed the adults his mana-saturated flesh. Wait for the poisoning to take effect.
Watch them die, one by one, as their bodies rejected the power they had consumed.
It would be horrific. It would be gruesome. But it would save Anya.
So Mika had crafted his story.
The Titan Berries. The giant bat. The need for a two-person team to retrieve the fruit.
He had built the narrative carefully, layer by layer, until the adults believed it completely.
He had even rigged up a crude speaker from salvaged electronics, broadcasting static and screeches into the cave to simulate the creature’s cries.
When the adults heard those sounds, they fled in terror—exactly as Mika had intended.
And then, alone in the smaller cavern, Mika had cut off his own leg for the first time.
The pain had been indescribable. Beyond anything he had ever experienced.
He had screamed and the sound had echoed through the caves, adding to the illusion of a monster lurking within.
But he had forced himself to continue.
He had skinned the leg. Carved the flesh. Ground it into paste.
And then, drawing on every ounce of his experimental mana manipulation, he had changed its color from red to blue.
When he emerged from the cave with the bucket of blue sludge, the adults had fallen upon it like starving animals.
Mika had watched, exhausted and trembling, waiting for them to start convulsing.
Waiting for the mana poisoning to take hold.
Waiting for his plan to work.
But...nothing happened.
The adults ate every last bite. They licked their fingers clean. And they didn’t die.
He thought that it was because it wasn’t enough so he hardened his resolve and continued feeding them for three more days.
But still nothing happened!
Instead, they got stronger.
The Anti-mana field, Mika realized with dawning horror, was suppressing his mana to the point where it was no longer toxic.
His mana, which was supposed to be poison, was actually improving their health. Clearing their injuries. Making them younger. Giving them strength they had never possessed before.
He had cried when he realized.
Cried at the cruel irony of it all.
He had tortured himself, cut off his own legs, stripped his own flesh—and it had all been for nothing.
Worse than nothing. He had given his would-be predators the strength they needed to become even more dangerous.
But then he had looked at Anya.
She had been playing with some rocks, arranging them into little families, making dinosaur noises.
Her smile, even in this dark place, had been bright.
Her laughter, even in this despair, had been music.
And Mika had realized: it didn’t matter if his plan had backfired.
It didn’t matter if the adults were getting stronger.
What mattered was that they were satisfied.
They weren’t hungry anymore. They weren’t looking at Anya with those wolf-like eyes.
He had to keep going. Not for himself. Not for the adults. For her.
So he had kept going. Day after day, week after week.
Cutting and skinning and carving and grinding.
Five hundred times. Five hundred legs. Five hundred agonies.
And he would do it five thousand more times if he had to.
—
The worst moment that had nearly broken him completely was when Anya’s own food ran out.
She had asked for the fruit. Begged for it. She was so hungry, so weak, and the ’fruit’ was right there.
Everyone else was eating it, so why couldn’t she have some too?
But Mika had refused. Again and again, he had refused.
He couldn’t bear the thought of Anya eating his flesh.
It was different with the adults—they were enemies, threats, obstacles to be managed.
But Anya...Anya was pure. Innocent. The one person in all the realms who deserved to be protected from the horrors of this place.
But Anya kept growing weaker. Kept growing thinner. Kept looking at him with those desperate, hungry eyes.
And eventually, Mika had to make a choice.
Let Anya starve, or let Anya eat his flesh.
He chose the latter.
When he handed her that first portion of blue sludge, something inside him died.
He watched her eat with a smile at the taste and thank him for finding such miraculous food.
In that moment, he felt like the worst monster who had ever lived.
He had hugged her afterward. Held her tight. Cried silent tears into her hair.
And Anya, innocent, unknowing Anya, had hugged him back and told him everything was going to be okay.
Mika had never felt more alone in his entire life.
—
Now, standing at the edge of the bone pit, looking down at the hundreds of skeletal legs that represented his sacrifice, Mika felt the tears come again.
Not for himself. Never for himself. For Anya.
For what she would think if she ever knew the truth.
For the horror and disgust that would fill her eyes if she ever learned what she had been eating.
He was doing this to protect her. But in protecting her, he was also deceiving her. Betraying her trust. Feeding her lies along with his flesh.
Was there any way out of this that didn’t end with Anya being hurt?
Mika didn’t know. He was too tired to figure it out.
Too broken to think clearly.
All he knew was that he had to keep going. Keep cutting. Keep sacrificing. Keep feeding the wolves and the lamb alike, hoping that somehow, someday, rescue would come.
He thought about his mothers.
All five of them.
Fauna with her gentle smile.
Yelena with her stern strength.
Nadia with her quiet wisdom.
The Maiden of War with her fierce love.
The Maiden of Fate with her knowing eyes.
Would they be proud of him?
Would they look at what he had done—the deception, the self-mutilation, the feeding of his own flesh to others and see a Hero?
Or would they see a monster?
He didn’t know. He was too young to know. He was only five years old, and he had already done things that would make grown men weep.
’I-I just want to go home.’ He thought, and the tears began to fall in earnest. ’I just want Fauna to hold me and tell me I did a good job.’
’I-I just want someone to tell me it’s going to be okay.’
He sank to his knees at the edge of the bone pit, his body wracked with silent sobs.
All the pain he had held back, all the horror he had suppressed—it came flooding out now in this graveyard of his own limbs.
"WAAAAAH!"
He cried for the legs he had lost. He cried for the innocence he had sacrificed.
He cried for the girl he loved, who was eating his flesh without knowing it.
He cried for his mothers, who were probably tearing the world apart trying to find him.
And in the shadows, Anya watched him cry.
She had never seen Mika cry before. Not once.
Through all of this Mika had never shed a tear.
He had been her rock. Her anchor. The steady presence that kept her from falling apart.
But now he was crying like the child he truly was.
She wanted to run to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him tight and tell him that everything was going to be okay.
But she didn’t.
Because if she did, Mika would know that she knew. And if Mika knew that she knew, he would be devastated.
He would feel guilty. He would feel ashamed.
He would feel like he had failed her, when in reality he had done nothing but save her.
He would also keep sacrificing himself anyway.
Because Mika was stubborn. He would rather cut off his legs a thousand more times than let her go hungry.
So Anya made a choice. The hardest choice she had ever made.
She would not let Mika know that she had seen.
She would continue to eat the ’fruit’ and smile and pretend that everything was normal.
She would carry this burden in silence, just as Mika had carried his.
Because that was what love meant.
She had always been the protected one. The timid one. The one who needed saving.
But now, in this moment, Anya made a silent vow.
She would become strong. She would become fierce. She would become someone who could protect Mika the way he had protected her.
She would never be a burden again.
Her rainbow-colored hair flickered with faint light, barely visible in the dim glow of the crystals.
But Anya didn’t notice and ran out of the cave.
—
When Mika finally emerged from the smaller cavern, bucket of blue sludge in hand, Anya was waiting for him with a smile.
"Mika!" She called out, running toward him. "You were gone so long! I was getting worried!"
Mika looked at her, and for just a moment, she saw the exhaustion in his eyes.
But then it was gone, replaced by the steady, reassuring presence she had come to rely on.
"Sorry." He said. "The bat was being difficult today."
"Well, you showed that bat who’s boss!" Anya grinned. "You’re the bravest person I know, Mika."
Something flickered in Mika’s expression—something that might have been guilt, or gratitude, or grief.
But he just smiled and ruffled her hair.
"Come on." He said. "Let’s go give the adults their fruit."
Anya nodded and fell into step beside him. But as they walked, she reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
Mika looked down at her, surprised.
"What’s that for?"
"Just because." Anya said. "Just because you’re my favorite person in the whole world. Just because I’m glad you’re here. Just because..."
She paused, searching for the right words.
"Just because I love you, Mika!"
Mika’s eyes trembled. Then, slowly, a real smile crossed his face.
A genuine, warm smile that made him look like the five-year-old boy he truly was.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand.
And when the adults descended on the bucket like vultures, Anya didn’t flinch.
When they complained about the taste, she didn’t react.
When they talked about their plans to sell the "miracle fruit" for fortunes, she didn’t say a word.
She just stood beside Mika, holding his hand, and promised herself that she would never let him suffer alone again.
I know what you’re doing for me.
I know you’re suffering for me.
And I will never, ever forget it.
