Meanwhile, there was not a single wound on the boy’s body. Something was clearly wrong.
And that was not all. The boy had started floating, flying through the air even though he had no wings. He looked down on the mercenaries and the scholars.
At this point, Sigurd had a realization. “Could it be that he…?”
Eyes burning with hate, the boy glared at the scholars and swung his right arm.
Countless arrows of light appeared in the air.
There was no mistaking it. This was the Thunder.
Sigurd understood.
The scholars had succeeded.
They had used and discarded countless orphans in their experiments. But atop that great pile of bodies, they had succeeded. That boy displayed an incredible aptitude for the Power of God, controlling the power of Thunder at will and flying through the sky without wings, just like the First Queen of legend. The mercenaries didn’t stand a chance. Nobody could have imagined a child would manifest such immense ability.
What came next was a massacre.
At first, the scholars seemed to want to stop the boy, but gradually, they changed tactics to stopping him through lethal force. But they couldn’t even manage that; in the end, they were running around madly. However, not a single one of them managed to get away. The boy flew around swiftly, circling around to block their exits every time.
Sigurd watched in a daze as the boy wiped out the scholars. It was sheer coincidence that he was safe; the boy’s attacks on the scholars had simply happened to miss Sigurd. The scene was filled with the bodies of children who had been experimented on, just like him.
Eventually, the only two people left alive in that room that smelled of burning flesh were Sigurd and the boy.
The orphan noticed Sigurd. He pointed his bloodied white hand at him and walked over to him. “I’ll kill you.”
The boy was deranged. He seemed to perceive everyone else here as enemies.
He thrust his right hand at Sigurd.
The young royal knew he was going to die. At that very moment, a tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t want to die.
He wanted to see Brunhild—just one more time, at least.
But his wish would no longer come true. He was only a child, so he had no way out of this situation.
The fingers of the boy’s right hand began to glow with lightning. It was the Thunder. Sigurd was going to be charred alive.
But—
“Hng… Guh…” The boy held his head in his hands again, struggling. “Ugh—waaaaaagh! Why am I…? Ahhhhh!” He howled madly as Sigurd watched him dumbly. “Someone. Someone. Someone… Someone…”
The boy suddenly fell to his knees on the spot. Then, in his disturbed state, he babbled, “Someone tell me. Who…who…who am I…?”
That made Sigurd realize the boy had lost his memory. This was not unusual. Continual exposure to the Power of God would destroy people’s minds, confound memories, and sometimes cause amnesia.
“I can’t see anything…”
That was when a jolt ran down Sigurd’s spine.
If he made the right move—
He realized if he was going to survive this, it was now or never.
Figuring it was sink or swim, Sigurd said to the boy, “I know who you are.”
Thinking he might be able to survive if he took advantage of the boy’s memory loss, he had blurted this out in an attempt to dissuade the boy from killing him.
The boy looked at Sigurd. His eyes were cold enough to make Sigurd shiver. “Tell me. Just who am I?”
Sigurd didn’t know who the boy was. He didn’t even know his name. All he knew was the boy had lost his memory.
What could he say to convince this boy? To satisfy him?
The boy’s right hand shone with Thunder. Sigurd had to think of something to say to win him over right this very moment.
“Tell me right now. I…!” The boy trained his black eyes on Sigurd in a fierce glare.
Sigurd came up with a plan. He didn’t know if this would convince the boy, but it was all he could think of.
“You’re the king.”
The boy was taken aback by Sigurd’s remark. “Me…?”
“Yes. Your black hair and eyes are proof you’re from the Siegfried family.”
It was true that the boy’s hair and eyes were black. They resembled those of Sigurd before he had come to Etherium.
“And you wield the Power of God, too. Only a member of the Siegfried family could have such aptitude for it.”
“This power…” The boy gazed at his right hand. But it seemed he wasn’t fully convinced. “I don’t know… Your words only sound empty to me.” He pointed his right hand at Sigurd once more. “What guarantee do I have that you speak the truth?”
Sigurd said as calmly as he could, “There is none.”
“Then die.”
“You must not kill me.”
“Why not?”
“If you kill me, then you’ll be trapped in darkness for eternity.” Sigurd himself didn’t feel his next words were convincing in the slightest. But he said it because he had no choice but to hang on to them. “I am your light.”
What a weak thing to say, Sigurd thought. But still, now that he’d said it, he had to keep going. “I’m the only one who knows who you are. I’m your only light. If you kill me, then you will have no way to find out who you are.”
He waited for the boy to react. If this didn’t stop him, then all was lost.
His words seemed to have an effect. The boy stopped trying to fire the Thunder.
“Light…”
“That’s not all. I’m your friend. We met at this experimental facility, and we told each other we would get through this together. You also promised you would make me your servant once you got out of here. Have you even forgotten that?”
He kept spouting nonsense on top of nonsense. He didn’t want to let the boy think calmly.