Reconciliation of the Hero's Rival

In a very busy city crowded with people doing their typical office jobs, opening their shops, some doing the lowly jobs to make ends meet, and so on. On the outskirts of this city stood an apartment where a certain writer lives.

His living quarters were not the cleanest but not the dirtiest either. The only light source in the room was his computer monitor, he had been staring at it for hours now.

He's been writing a book. He hated that book, he lost his passion for it for some time now yet he's here finalizing its fifth volume.

Why? How did he manage to continue writing it despite not being passionate at all? It's simple really, to pay his bills, of course.

That book he once thought his breakthrough to success became something he despised; It practically killed his passion for writing. Yet, he continued writing it because that's what sells to the masses.

He tried... there were several attempts in which he tried to diverge and move on to another project. They were either rejected by the publishers or failed to build an audience—all attempts he did have failed.

He doubted his skills as a writer. There were so many stories he wanted to tell yet he can't as if it was his passion itself that kept stopping him.

Years have passed and he somehow continued. Volume thirteen was published and the sales were still on the rise, despite the book's slow decline in quality, the masses still consume this work that had been killing the dream he once had. Could he even call it his own art anymore? He had given up on trying to escape this curse that he made himself. All those cries for help didn't work anyway.

Who would've thought the dream that he always had as a kid would be the thing that killed him?

Now, he is here. The book he despised became his new world and is now living as the character that reflected the struggle that he faced in his life. Simon Hannes, a character who died paying the cost of his own ambition.

***

Crack!

The floor cracked with the man's fist; he was aiming for the kid who simply dodged it. A platinum-blonde-haired boy who's abilities seemed to not even awaken his abilities yet. The man already assumed he was a Hannes—who wouldn't? Silvan Hannes is a household name throughout the continent; trying to mess with that bastard would be a death sentence. Fortunately, it wasn't him but the immature younger brother of his.

"Y-you!" He growled.

He was confused, the mask the boy wore contained nothing odd when he sensed it, but it somehow made him recover in a blink of an eye. No normal person—let alone a teenager—would be able to stand after getting a clean hit like that.

'What the hell... Is it some kind of genetic trait to be this persistent?'

He tried to hit the boy several times again. Each punch became faster and faster but somehow, the brat was able to dodge all of them and even managed to match his speed despite the difference in essence capacity.

"How the hell!?" The man screamed "How are you still moving!"

"Are you done? How dare you insult me, fucking imbecile." The boy responded

His tone shifted. The sly fox nature earlier turned into a more glaring and cold demeanor.

"Too bad, it seems like you're still weak even after corrupted rituals." He scoffed.

"What do you know about me!? Rich nobles like you would never realize our desperation for power!" The man was enraged by the boy's comments and prepared to strike again.

"I, Simon Hannes, am a man of honor." He declared

"You dare compare me to those fragile losers. Let me then show you who you are facing, I'll make sure you'll be in hell with your loved ones, you trash."

Simon then stretched his arm, then channelled all his remaining essence, and suddenly concentrated it all.

'If my abilities refuse to awaken now. Then, I'll force it open myself!'

For a few milliseconds, nothing happened. However, a surge of lighting was suddenly released on his right hand. He awakened! His drained body was suddenly overflowing with essence after forcing the first gate of awakening on his body wide open.

He, who was contained in the mask all this time, have found an opportunity to get this familiar body that he once owned. Simon Hannes adapted and utilized his body in an instant.

"Die!!!" The corrupted man roared surging with dark essence burning into his right fist, he charged forward making the floor tremble on each step.

Simon doesn't plan to dodge this time. In fact, he wants to face it himself. He smirked behind the mask, clenched his right fist that was roaring with overwhelming power, and then..

Crash!

Their fists clashed. Both individuals were so powerful that they could easily demolish a massive boulder. The impact created an explosion that caused smoke. Simon and the man were also affected by the impact of their clash.

"What the..." The man was surprised about the sudden power surge; it made him terrified. He never saw any person that could do such monstrous development so suddenly, not even a corrupted should be able to do that. With his arm still recovering from the impact of the punch earlier, he tried to locate Simon in the middle of the smoke.

In front of him, a silhouette appeared through the smoke. It was Simon, but now, he was holding the glaive that he had dropped earlier. It seems that he have already recovered from the impact earlier.

"I think it is time to end this battle, if you could even call it that," Simon said. Lacking any feelings as if he was disappointed.

"Just who are you?" The man trembled in fear, realizing the tables had turned.

"Fool," Simon just chuckled

For a moment he just stood there staring at the man who was fearing for his life. He's waiting for something. And then, something happened...

"Huh—" the man was suddenly shaking more than usual. But then something odd happened to his body.

A scream surged from the man's throat as his muscles grew even larger and his twisting veins turned black. He didn't look human anymore, but instead, a grotesque abomination—a mindless creature whose only purpose was to slaughter. A true corrupted, born only to create devastation and despair in this world.

The abomination stood up and glared at Simon with killing intent. As he was about to charge at him, sparks of lighting slowly appeared. First, his right arm then it spreaded throughout its body—eventually, the creature collapsed on its knees.

Bzzt! Electricity suddenly wrapped the man's body, paralyzing him.

"Ah there it is," Simon smirked as he saw the man kneel; he had already expected it.

It was paralyzed. Simon's punch earlier wasn't intended to take down the man instantly but he was waiting for the aftereffects of the clash which he only did to satisfy his ego.

"Listen, no matter how big you become, you'll always be that pathetic peasant you've always been. That's just the ending for fools like you."

"Mellus, God of thunder's might,

Channel your wrath on this blade..."

With nothing threatening Simon anymore, he started chanting—the polearm's blade glowed creating sparks of lightning. It was so strong that parts of his sleeve were torn off by the sheer amount of power.

"And I will strike, swift as light

In your name, my foes will fade!"

"Burn!" Simon threw the glaive like a javelin aiming at the abomination's heart.

Splat!

Just like that, the corrupted abomination died. The impact was so strong that the glaive he used also broke. Simon Hannes utilized a simple technique to its full potential without accumulating any injuries, an impressive feat considering his current body's condition.

On Simon's back, the mage that was knocked out earlier, trembled in fear witnessing the death of his superior. He tried to cast a chantless fireball once again aiming at the boy who had just consumed most of his mana after that move.

Unfortunately, Simon noticed immediately and looked at the mage's direction. The mage flinched at his eyes full of bloodlust behind the mask giving him a chance to counter. Counter he did, he charged towards the mage and easily dodged his fireball.

"Hey, even non-mages know chantless casting drains twice the essence," Simon then raised his fist "shitty amateur."

The mage's head blew up after a blow from Simon's fist—blood stained in the surroundings including his outfit.

"Ugh." Disgusted, he reached for a towel; his white outfit was stained with blood.

Simon viewed his surroundings after this whole fiasco. Seeing the bodies of his enemies, dead and bloody, he smirked behind the mask covered with the blood of a peasant who thought he was only facing a pitiful brat. Suddenly, he fell unconscious, the mask suddenly turned into dust and got mysteriously absorbed into his body.