Chapter 29: RAYDEN DRAVENHEART? …. Vastro sounds better..

Chapter 29

Vastro was not even able to look at or properly process his very first quest. Instead, he lost himself in the sensation of feeding on his mother’s milk for the first time.

It was too good. Almost unreal.

He could feel the warmth. The safety. The love flowing from his human mother through the milk itself. It wrapped around him, gentle and overwhelming, and before he realized it, his consciousness slipped away and he fell asleep.

Vastro found himself standing on a massive execution ground.

His hands and legs were bound. His body was forced to kneel while rows of archers raised their bows, arrows glinting coldly under a dark sky. He lifted his gaze and surveyed the crowd.

They were cheering.

Their voices roared in unison, filled with hatred and relief.

“Finally, our world will be purged of the cursed tyrant.” “The hell-being that descended upon us will fall.”

The chief executioner stepped forward, his voice loud and cruel.

“Any last words, Dravenheart?”

Vastro looked straight into his eyes. Calm. Cold. Absolute.

“Burn.”

The world obeyed.

Flames erupted everywhere. The sky ignited. The ground split apart. The cheering humans turned into screaming silhouettes as fire devoured them. Cities collapsed into ash. The world ended in seconds.

Then a voice pierced through the destruction.

“Rayden…”

It was breaking. Fading. Filled with pain.

Vastro’s eyes trembled. His heart shook.

He turned.

There she was.

His mother.

Tears streamed down her face, sizzling as they touched the burning ground. He rushed to her side and lifted her into his arms.

“I love—”

She never finished the word.

Her body burned to ash in his hands.

Vastro screamed.

His heart shattered. Regret flooded him so violently it felt like his soul was being ripped apart. He should not have done it. He should not have burned everything.

But the nightmare did not end there.

There were more.

Again and again.

Every nightmare was different, yet the same. Vastro was always in danger. Always pushed to the brink. And every time he went all out, every time he unleashed his full power, he ended up killing the people he loved.

People he did not even recognize, yet knew in his heart were his own.

Each cycle ended with unbearable pain.

“Rayden…” “Rayden…” “Rayden…”

Their voices echoed endlessly as they faded one by one into nothingness. The agony grew deeper. Heavier. Until Vastro could no longer endure it.

He willed everything to stop.

And it did.

Vastro jolted awake.

His mother’s face filled his vision. She was smiling warmly, looking at him like he was the most precious thing in existence. Maybe she really was the happiest woman in the world.

But Vastro was not the happiest baby.

Not even close.

If anything, he felt like the unluckiest being alive.

His circumstances were beyond terrible.

Why him?

Why was the great Vastro reduced to a weak, helpless human infant?

It was unacceptable.

His gaze drifted upward as the last system message hovered in his mind. A quest. His first one.

Back then, when he had set the Hell Brand system, he had chosen the highest difficulty possible. Absurd. Extreme. Near impossible.

That was the only way it could be fun.

If a quest could be cleared easily, then what was the point of having a system at all?

But now…

Now that he saw his very first quest, doubt crept in.

New quest received.

Quest: Survive Infancy

Quest Reward: ?????

Remark: You have not been born for more than a minute and are already wanted dead. This must be a new record.

Vastro felt his tiny body twitch.

Why did he suddenly have such a bad feeling about this quest?

Well, anything labeled “survive” was bad news.

Vastro could already tell. The system had said he was wanted dead. By who and when, he did not know yet. But the intent was clear. Someone, somewhere, wanted his existence erased.

And of course, the system had to mock him while saying it.

Vastro puffed his tiny cheeks, annoyance bubbling inside him.

“What is it?” his mother asked, worry written all over her face. “Are you hungry again?”

She hesitated, already considering feeding him once more.

Vastro stared at her warily.

Who told her he was hungry? Could she not see that he was angry? No. Furious beyond words.

Humans really were foolish.

…Wait.

Why did he suddenly feel guilty thinking that?

Vastro stiffened.

What was that feeling?

He shook his head, mentally slapping himself for entertaining such thoughts. Now was not the time for weakness. He shifted his focus and began gathering information instead, observing his mother carefully.

She was young. Early to mid-twenties, at most. No aura, no trace of energy circulation.

A mortal.

Just a mortal human.

Pathetic.

The guilt hit again.

Stronger this time.

“What is this?” Vastro thought in horror. “I am not developing mortal emotions… am I?”

That thought chilled him far more than the system warnings.

Then it got worse.

Fragments of memory began to slip.

Important ones.

His revenge against Drakkon remained, but the details felt distant, sealed behind something heavy. His time as a Hellbound still existed, yet the reason he became one, the truths Hell shared with him, its goals, all of it was gone.

Forgotten.

Erased.

This body was affecting him.

His emotions. His mind. His very soul.

But they would not win.

Vastro focused, forcing his thoughts back under control. If his first quest was to survive, then that meant danger was already closing in. His life was hanging by a thread, and he needed to prepare.

For a moment, the fragile instincts of a baby tried to surface. Fear. Helplessness.

He crushed them.

He might be a baby now. A weak, frail human infant.

But he was still Vastro.

The strongest usurper in existence.

There was no world where he cowered.

No matter what came, he would face it.

Yet his nightmares lingered.

They all shared the same core. In them, he was not Vastro.

He was Rayden.

Rayden Dravenheart.

And everyone he grew attached to died by his own hands, leaving him alone in endless agony.

He would stop that future.

First by rejecting that cursed name.

Rayden.

No.

He would remain Vastro.

The name sounded better anyway.

To be continued….

Author’s Note:

Alright, warriors of the story, this is where I need you to step up. Every vote, every review, every little bit of support isn’t just a number…. it fuels the chaos, the battles, the explosions, and every insane twist you love.

Here’s the deal: 200 power stones unlock an extra Chapter. Yes, you read that right… an extra Chapter packed with carnage, revelations, and jaw-dropping moments just for you. 100 collections? That’s another extra Chapter. And those reviews? Every 10 reviews give you one extra Chapter. Every comment, every thumbs-up…. it all matters.

So if you want the next Chapter to come faster, with more action, more tension, more of that raw, unfiltered intensity you crave, this is your moment. Don’t just sit there…. vote, review, collect, and make your mark. Your energy becomes mine, and together, we push the story further than anyone could imagine.

Remember Every 200 power stones give one extra chap.

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