Atlas didn't feel any pain as he slammed the ink-stained feather into his left thigh, even though he should have screamed. The pain wasn't in his mind at all.
"Relax… Shit, how should I relax?" Atlas's thoughts screamed as he pulled the feather out of his thigh.
"It's clear now where I am," Atlas hissed while reading the title once again.
"The Bloody Knights returned after clearing their newest mission successfully." Atlas couldn't keep his laugh inside and just let it out.
"I'm in An Unfortunate World." Atlas couldn't believe his luck.
Now you might wonder why Atlas reacted this way.
Shouldn't he be happy to be inside his favorite piece of fiction, which he had read multiple times?
The answer is no.
No… no… no.
In the story of An Unfortunate World, all races without exception are the targets of those monsters.
Why should Atlas be afraid if this was his favorite story? He should get strong easily, right?
The problem is here.
Not only does Atlas not know the main villain's face—who killed the main party—because he was always described as someone with a mask…
But Atlas didn't know what to do.
The novel never described how to get strong quickly. It simply followed the rule: Lucian's talent.
Most of the people who lived in this world got mercilessly eaten or slaughtered by these monsters, with the exception of important characters like the side cast and the main party.
And the family Silver wasn't even mentioned once throughout the whole novel.
Atlas has only a few advantages as a true reader of An Unfortunate World.
The biggest advantage is that he knows the cruel future that will come.
He also knows the weaknesses and attacks of most enemies because, while he was in the hospital, he noted them all down as a way to distract himself.
Is this enough, though?
No, it isn't.
Not only does he have a class that even gives him a debuff, but he also doesn't have a single clue about fighting—until now.
"I need to convince Father and Mother to teach me how to fight," Atlas's mind blinked as he stood up.
He glanced at his thigh and decided first to change his clothes to not seem like a lunatic.
Atlas opened his wardrobe and took out some simple clothes for training, which he had never worn before.
It was just a pair of a white T-shirt and brown pants.
Atlas glanced at the mirror after he dressed.
He resembled his parents.
He had the handsome, sharp face of his father, with dark, mysterious blue-purple eyes that seemed to hold a flame within them, and his mother's golden hair, styled in a long side part.
Atlas was bodily weak with a skinny body, but he could change it.
At least he hoped so.
Atlas ran outside his room, through the white-golden corridor filled with flowers because Seraphine loved them, and past a giant family portrait with the three of them smiling.
He ran outside to their big garden, which was filled with white and red roses that his mother always cared for.
Atlas arrived, blushing, at the tea table where his parents were drinking tea while enjoying their view.
Both of them glanced over at their son curiously.
"What is it, Atlas?" Seraphine asked in a soft and warm tone.
Atlas looked into their eyes and tried to appear as serious as he could.
"Mom, Dad, you two were known knights, and I just read a book about knights. Can you two train me?"
This pathetic excuse was the best he could come up with since he tried to act childish and cute.
To his surprise, both said in unison:
"No."
Not only did both, for the first time ever, have cold eyes, but also a serious tone toward their son.
"Why?! Why?" Atlas insisted because he needed at least this to survive somehow.
Seraphine spoke in a serious tone.
"Atlas, my dear son."
She cupped his cheek in her rough hand.
"What you have read was just fiction. Nothing real. Your parents both stopped working as knights because reality isn't so good-hearted."
Lior stepped up.
"Is there even one reason besides your curiosity why you want to get stronger… Atlas?" he asked in a cold but curious tone.
Atlas didn't talk for a few moments, but it felt like hours of thinking.
He had many reasons he could list and explain, but he was just a 4-year-old brat.
Atlas didn't want to reveal he was from another world—not only because they wouldn't believe him anyway, but also because when he tried to reveal it as a test…
One month ago.
Atlas was lying on his bed as Winslow came in with the daily milk mixed with honey.
And there Atlas tried to reveal his identity, to test if there was a boundary.
"Winslow, did you know that I—" He got interrupted.
He felt like someone or something was holding his heart in their hand.
A big and black one, surrounded by dark, deep shadows.
Atlas gulped.
Was it only his imagination?
He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to risk it just for testing boundaries.
"What was it, young master?" Winslow asked curiously.
"I'm gonna be a super strong knight like my parents." Atlas quickly acted like a young child again.
In the present.
His dad was smart, and the question he just asked overwhelmed Atlas a lot because he didn't know why they couldn't even train him or why they were so against it.
Atlas thought of something and just tried it.
"I wanna be strong so I can protect myself and the ones I like without having to hesitate because I'm weak," Atlas tried to act noble.
Of course, Atlas liked his new parents, but he wanted to get stronger because he was truly afraid of death—not because he wanted to be some cliché hero.
Seraphine and Lior smiled first.
"Go to the training ground and wait there. I will be there in 5 minutes," Lior replied, satisfied.
Atlas ran toward him, hugged his dad while blushing, and then ran toward the training ground.
Seraphine looked at Lior.
"Why did you suddenly agree with Atlas? We both wanted our son to be away from such dangerous things," she said in a serious tone because her son was just a frail child in her eyes.
"I also think that Atlas should never be in danger. But still, shouldn't he at least know how to defend himself alone?" Lior replied in a soft tone.
He placed his hand on her shoulder.
"We may be young, but what if something happens to us? Or what if Atlas gets attacked when he is alone? I will teach him so he at least doesn't get hurt," Lior said thoughtfully and then walked to the training ground.
Atlas was already at the training ground, happy that he convinced his dad to teach him.The training ground was just a wide area near their garden, plastered with plain stones.On the side was some equipment for training, such as wooden swords and weak leather armor.
Lior arrived.
"What are you doing? Run," he simply instructed Atlas.
At first, Atlas didn't want to, but the thought of dying made him run along the outlines of the training ground.
1 round.
He was already out of breath and sweating, even though it wasn't that warm outside.
2 rounds.
He barely finished and then collapsed on the ground, sweaty.
"My awful class…" Atlas blamed it while lying on the ground.
A shadow cast over his face.
It was his dad, leaning over him.
"Since lies are bad for training, I'm gonna be brutally honest," Lior said in a stoic tone.
"It seems like your body isn't made for physical activities. Atlas, do you want to tell your dad the class you got?" he asked softly and curiously.
Atlas hesitated at first.
But he realized his father could train him better if he knew his condition.
"Father… My class is 'Frail Person.' I get injuries and diseases more easily, and my injuries take longer to heal," Atlas said sadly.
Lior didn't answer but inhaled deeply.
Then exhaled.
"That's… to be expected from what I saw. But that class is truly horrible," Lior smiled warmly.
Atlas got confused.
"Father, why do you look so happy despite knowing my class is horrible?" Atlas asked, confused.
"First of all, my son, I believe that if you pay such a heavy price, you will definitely get something incredible back… also,"Lior petted his son's hair.
"I have a plan where even that class can be useful. But before that, you need your physique to get stronger. Because if you're not strong enough, not only will your mom beat me up, but my plan won't work."
Atlas's eyes sparkled as he heard that his father had a plan for his useless class, so he stood up to train his body further.
"What do I need to do, Father?" Atlas asked, determined.