When Titus woke up, he realized it was already dark. After checking that the child in his arms was safe, he went to speak with the wagoner.
"Why didn't you wake me? Traveling at night is dangerous."
The frail old man, who couldn't even defend himself, was journeying through the late hours with only a lantern's glow for company.
"What are you talking about? This route is under Lord Tatius's protection. No criminals have been seen here for ten years."
Confident from the old man's words, Titus grew concerned. He looked at the child in his arms, its face illuminated by the lantern's glow, before turning to ask the old man:
"Where's the nearest inn?"
"No point going now. The closest inn would take us till dawn to get there."
With no other options left, Titus drew his sword, gripping it tightly in preparation for whatever might come.
Shortly after worry began to grow in Titus's mind, the old man's eyes widened as his gaze fell upon something ahead - a stationary wagon. Titus turned to question the old man, but found himself equally stunned.
Impossible...
Titus was astonished to see a barrel floating in mid-air.
"A... a ghost..."
The old man said, his face pale with terror.
Ghosts exist beyond the physical realm. The main way to deal with them is through priests blessed since birth.
Whether it will work or not, I have no idea,
Titus thought before unleashing his aura.
"O restless spirit, reveal what you seek from this plane."
As Titus finished speaking, the unexpected occurred - his eyes emitted a blue light while the lost spirit entered his body.
"It's possessed him! It's possessed him!"
The old man screamed repeatedly in terror.
Titus found himself in an unfamiliar place. Aside from the beam of light shining down on him, there was only impenetrable darkness surrounding him. Yet Titus could perceive that within that darkness, something was crawling on the ground. The sound was so clear and distinct that he wanted to deny it was merely his imagination.
What the hell?
The sound grew steadily louder - something was crawling through the darkness, moving directly toward him.
Fortunately, his sword was still in hand. Titus swung it tightly at something lunging toward him. Unexpectedly, the moment the blade made contact, he found himself awake back on the wagon.
Nothing had happened. His body felt no pain, his mind remained clear. The baby was still in his arms, and the old man continued guiding the wagon as normal.
What the hell?
Titus couldn't comprehend what had occurred. He only knew that nothing else happened throughout the entire night that followed.
The old man stopped the wagon in front of a large mansion. At the entrance stood two armored young men, staring at them with unfriendly expressions.
The old man approached and whispered something to the two guards. Though Titus didn't know what was said, the two guards opened the door and allowed them to enter.
The moment he stepped inside, Titus was shackled, while the old man who came with him wasn't subjected to the same treatment.
His recently gained freedom was easily taken away. Titus, now behind bars, tried to explain himself, but they wouldn't listen. They simply told him he would be executed.
Titus wanted to unleash his rage, but remembering that the baby was safe, he simply remained calm as if nothing had happened.
Titus leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and began recalling events from his past life.
During his time as a slave, Titus had known a boy around his age whose name he never even learned.
They quickly became close. Titus and the boy would share food stolen from the slave master's kitchen, until one day they were caught.
But instead of admitting his involvement, Titus coldly lied. In contrast, his friend bravely confessed to being the sole culprit.
It was the first time such a feeling had arisen in Titus - an indescribable pain in his heart. Sometimes, when he recalled the incident, something would press down on both his shoulders, momentarily preventing him from walking with his head held high.
During his time as a slave, there was an occasion when he received bread from an old man who was also a slave like him.
Titus took the bread without hesitation and began devouring it like a starving man. The old man who witnessed this smiled at him.
From that day on, he had always wondered what that smile meant.
Until one day, when the old man offered him bread as usual, Titus snatched it without uttering a single word of thanks, just like every other time.
The old man laughed when he saw the boy's expression. He smiled at Titus as usual before leaning back against the wall.
Yet the very next morning, the old man had disappeared. This marked the second time that strange feeling had stirred within him.Yet the very next morning, the old man had disappeared. This marked the second time that strange feeling had stirred within him.
On one occasion, when Titus was suffering from repeated waterboarding torture, he lay exhausted and near death.
His head throbbed intensely, his hearing was filled with strange noises, and his breathing came in ragged gasps.
Why?
Tears streamed down Titus's face as he thought despairingly. The light in his eyes began to fade.
I don't want to die yet.
He thought painfully, recalling everything he had done throughout his life.
"Stay strong."
A young man whispered, making furtive gestures as if not wanting to be seen.
More torture?
Titus could only wonder inwardly, lacking the strength to speak aloud.
Then something unexpected happened. The young man, who should have been one of the soldiers torturing disobedient slaves, helped him recover his health.
This became the third incident that stirred strange feelings within Titus.
During Titus's earliest memories, before he became a slave, he lived with his grandfather on a small farm with just a few acres of crops and some animals.
His grandfather rarely spoke to him, and when he did, it was mostly to impart lessons.
"Plants must be cared for properly. Don't let insects or animals destroy them,"
The old man said before sprinkling a white powder in a long line around the cornfield. The toddling Titus helped him as best he could.
Grandfather always smiled at his grandson. He enjoyed telling bedtime stories and often tried to teach things the young Titus couldn't yet understand.
"Mathematics is important!" the elder emphasized to his grandson.
Even when Titus was old enough to argue, he still thought what his grandfather taught was beyond human comprehension.
"This is clearly some kind of chant! Are you trying to make me become a monk?"
The boy complained when faced with complex math problems.
The old man sighed, looking at his grandson with disappointment.
"I was planning to teach you some magic, but if you can't solve this simple math problem, you probably can't learn magic either."
The boy's ears perked up. At that age, Titus still believed magic was real.
"I'll finish it by tonight!"
The boy said cheerfully.
"You must really complete it. Tomorrow I'll teach you magic."
The boy's eyes sparkled. "Promise?"
"I've never broken a promise,"
The grandfather said, patting the boy's head before leaving the room.
The boy jumped for joy - he would finally learn the magic from his stories.
But that dream never came true. The young Titus couldn't have known that the next day would never arrive...
The sound of approaching footsteps made Titus open his eyes. He saw a gentlemanly figure observing him from the other side of the bars.
"My apologies for my subordinate imprisoning you. This was our misunderstanding."
the gentleman said before the armored man unlocked the cell door.