Berserk: The Prophet

.........

Inside Burns Castle.

Trunks settled Green directly into his room and ordered his maids to change Green's clothes and treat his wounds. The old butler, McGill, also came to take over. Being old, he was a light sleeper and only vaguely felt that it was dawn before waking up. Hearing the busy sounds from the lord's bedroom, he naturally rushed over.

"...Leave it to me with confidence, Your Excellency."

"Yes, take good care of him. Thank you for your hard work, McGill."

"It is an honor to serve you."

Trunks finally breathed a sigh of relief after handing Green over to the old butler, who was always attentive to the guests. Then, he looked at Serantti with a somewhat ambiguous gaze, not understanding why his friend would hide the child's real name.

The feeling of being deceived was unpleasant, and Trunks walked out of the room first.

Seranti: "........."

After hesitating for a moment, she followed Trunks' footsteps. It seemed that she was always the one who was slowing him down. The three steps between them seemed so far apart at this moment.

Meanwhile, Green, who had been bandaged and cleaned, was lying on the bed with a high fever and his brows were furrowed. The maids around him were also busy with wet towels, trying to lower Green's body temperature.

Meanwhile, Green's sea of ​​consciousness was being forcibly infused with those minute details of memory, gradually strengthening its fusion with Pander, allowing his soul to take root and grow there.

............

[Memory loading... Approaching docking point...]

Your father never told you anything about your mother, and his past seems very secretive. You grew up in a poor neighborhood by Barclays Beach and received almost no 'orthodox' education, but your father taught you from a young age how to protect yourself and how to identify and avoid danger.

When you get a little older, he begins to teach you about herbs, poisons, and antidotes, as well as how to help the wounded survive and recover.

He never intervenes when you get into a fight with street thugs, insisting that you should win your own battle. He often leaves for long periods of time, never explaining where he's going or when he'll be back.

You raised yourself, sometimes resorting to petty theft to survive. Nevertheless, these difficult years familiarized you with the bustling streets, the city's secrets, and its dark alleyways.

During your teenage years, you had almost no free time because of your father...

【System testing...】

Due to recent events, you will be directly transferred to...

Because your father arranged for you to become a servant of the nobleman Barkley. (Strength +1, Charisma +1, Power Strike +1, Persuasion +1)

[Attribute summary in progress...]

Character: Green [Attendant]

Age: 7 years old

Level: 20 (Experience points required for the next stage)

Health: 64/64

Strength: 16+5+2 [Having obtained the Mark of Belial, Strength +5; having obtained the Blessing of Astalia, Strength +2; Unlocked Ability: Dragon Flame *1 level.]

Agility: 10+2 [Completed Kadi's special training, Agility +2]

Intelligence: 11

Charisma: 11

Character Skills: Iron Bones +3, Power Strike +3 +1 [Squire +1 Power Strike], Power Throw +2, Weapon Mastery +3, Running +3, Riding +2, Plunder +2, Coaching +2, Tactics +2, Guide +2, Item Management +3, Healing +3, Surgery +3, First Aid +2, Persuasion +2 +1 [Squire +1 Persuasion], Prisoner Management +2, Leadership +2, Trade +2.

Weapon Proficiency: One-handed Weapons: 125 + 30 [Kadi's Special Training +30], Two-handed Weapons: 175, Polearms: 118, Bow: 104, Crossbow: 107, Throwing: 116

[System Guardian Spirit Awakened, True Name: Golden-Red Beligat (Large Stage), Acquired Abilities: [Spatial Access]*6, [Immunity to Conventional Physical Death], [Soul Protection]*20, [Key to the Pendor World], [Dragon Flame]*1, [Magic Resistance]*20 (Racial Trait)]

[Summary complete. Belial has felt the goddess's blessing and will absorb the divine power bestowed upon him. The host will simultaneously enter a state of slumber. Analysis complete. System is now in hibernation...]

His soul seemed to be drawn into a canvas of war between the gods, a story forgotten by people, about the reasons for the gradual decline of order... and the awakening of evil forces.

............

Trunks's leather boots echoed quietly in the corridor. He pushed open the glass window at the end of the corridor, leaving a small gap. For some reason, he felt a tightness in his chest. He took a deep breath, but it turned into a sigh. He said nothing, yet it seemed as if he had said everything.

"Trunks..."

Seranti was at a loss for words, even though he hadn't meant to hide it from him, but was forced to.

“I know this is not what you wanted. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me the truth, but at least I need to know something.” Trunks thought of the goddess’s words and revelation, and turned to look at his former friend and confidant.

Seranti breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he absolutely had to keep it from him; it was just that he didn't want him to know too much and cause unnecessary trouble. If he knew nothing, given his personality, there would probably be far fewer problems. After all, he could handle the real trouble himself.

"Then I hope you can keep this a secret..."

“...Of course.” Trunks was still the same as before, his amber eyes revealing determination, which also meant that he would absolutely keep his promise.

“That was after we parted ways…” Seranti silently recounted the mysterious prophecies and ancient legends about the child, without mentioning anything about what happened to him during that time, which must have been a rather unpleasant experience.

"Now... I think I would rather see a peaceful world, a world where elves and humans can live together in peace, so that those mixed-race children with tragic backgrounds will no longer be discriminated against."

Seranti looked out the window at the scenery. The moonlight was beautiful, and the streets and roads below were covered with a layer of silvery frost. However, even the best scenery and the whistling cold wind could not dispel the gloom in his heart. Perhaps there was still some resentment in his heart.

She hated all the injustices in the world, even her mother despised her identity.