Remembering My Name
Right now, I was clinging desperately to the fraying thread of my sanity, barely keeping it from snapping. On top of my innate regenerative ability, the recovery potion splashed over my body started steaming from every inch of my skin. Hiss—! Twisted and shattered bones and muscles began knitting back together. Gritting my teeth through the agony of my body mending itself in every spot, Drakan's words finally echoed in my mind, delayed but insistent.
"Name? Name... ah."
Come to think of it, yeah, I had one of those.
What was my name again?
It had already been over half a year since I arrived in this world. Looking back, those days didn't require a name at all. Fight, train, consume nutrients, recover, then repeat the cycle of combat and training. It was a literal life-or-death struggle just to survive. There was no room for reciting my own name amid that brutal grind—nothing compared to some casual MMA match. In that hellhole swarming with monsters, no one was around to call my name anyway.
And after escaping Monster Island? Ivan Hellenger's ship had attacked me like I was some beast, followed by that massive explosion. Even washed up here, I couldn't let my guard down against that white-haired monster. Tracing it all back, it was an exhausting journey that felt like an eternity. If someone offered a fortune to anyone willing to go through that ordeal and survive, would anyone take the deal? The thought drew a hollow laugh—it was insane no matter how I sliced it.
But...
Hiss—! Sizzle—! As I hauled my fading consciousness back from the brink through the searing pain, I remembered the root of it all: the path that let me claw my way out of this absurd hell.
Yeah. It was the life I'd chosen in my past existence. Sure, it started thanks to my brother, but from childhood, I'd built up countless sports and ingrained habits. Always pushing for "one more" when it hurt, focusing on my training no matter how others lived—the sweaty days that defined me. Far from women or partying, but looking back, every bit of it had gotten me this far. That was crystal clear.
Cough—! Suddenly, dark red blood surged from somewhere and sprayed from my mouth as I lay there, but a smile had already crept onto my lips.
It wasn't meaningless. Not just the weight training and nutrition knowledge that shaped this body. Judo, boxing, Muay Thai, jiu-jitsu, mixed into comprehensive MMA. Even in this world of magic and mystery, everything I'd honed with my body and habits held its own value.
It worked.
I'd broken it. Drakan's left arm—the arm of someone in this world's top-tier strength, no less. Sure, it was bare-handed, and I was on the brink of death, but that fact didn't change.
I wouldn't underestimate the people of this world, but I didn't need to discard what I'd learned either. Aura? Just another variable. Something to upgrade what I'd already mastered. I hadn't known about it before, but now that I could sense it, there was nothing to fear.
For the first time, I felt like I was truly at the starting line. Now, I was ready. With this painstakingly forged Ultimate Body, and now the ability to sense aura on top...
"Hmph. Already passed out?"
"Han...su."
Drakan's murmur pulled me from my thoughts. My lips parted slowly.
Yeah, that was my name. The experiences that let me smile in this hell had built it, and the name that could summon that fierce life anytime in this godforsaken world.
"...Hansu."
As I spat out the name and let my head drop back into the pool of blood, Drakan muttered it too, with a thud.
"Hans, huh. Good name."
Saying it with an expression I'd never seen on him before.
***
That afternoon, under a massive tree casting long shadows.
Nadia, brush in hand as she painted vibrant colors on a large carriage, turned to me with a smile.
"Hans? That's a really good name! Perfectly chosen!"
"Han-su..."
"Yep, Hans! Now that you have a name, Uncle, it feels even better."
"Mm."
Fine, call me Hans then. More importantly...
"Call me Hans, not 'Uncle.'"
"Huh? But—"
"Sounds more familiar."
"Hmmm. Okay, Hans!"
"Nice."
"Hehe."
She giggled and turned back to her painting. Uncle? What the hell.
On the other side of her, the white-haired monster sat on a bench in front of the house, chatting with Edwin.
No way in hell am I the same 'uncle' level as that old geezer.
As I mulled over the gains from this morning's fight with those thoughts...
"Hm hm hmm~"
A cheerful hum drifted over. Nadia, painting wildly on the carriage, couldn't hide her excitement.
"By the way, we're leaving tomorrow, right?"
"Yes! We have to, to make it for the ball's opening night."
"Lucky you."
"Yeah! It'll be so much fun. Hanging out with cool people at the palace, making new friends, doing all the stuff we can't here!"
Her voice brimmed with thrill. Made sense—she'd been getting noisier these past few days. Clothes, jewelry, paintings... She'd agonized all night over conversation topics for new friends, what gifts would win people over, what outfits would make her popular.
Recalling her pure excitement, I smiled and was about to ask something else.
"Then—"
"She's painting. Don't interrupt."
Drakan had sidled up beside me. The damn white-haired beast stood there, arms crossed, staring at Nadia as he muttered.
"Why so many questions all of a sudden? Suddenly curious about the ball?"
"As if."
"Admit it now, and I'll take you along."
"Pass."
Me, diving into that storm? No thanks. As I shot it down flat, Drakan cleared his throat awkwardly beside me.
"Ahem. Truth is, I kinda stand out."
"Pardon?"
"Even with the escort excuse, I'm not sure the palace would let me in nicely."
I could guess the rest, having read the original Young Master of the Poison Clan. Drakan was already infamous among the elites. A known troublemaker? No way they'd welcome him at the ball. Who'd buy his "just escorting" line? Sneaking in was tough too—he was one of the biggest humans in this world, bigger than me.
His workaround? The big commotion in the early Young Master storyline started right around here.
"So, I'll watch from afar. You go in as escort and guard Nadia—"
"Old man."
Was it respect for my skills and grit, or regret at his slip-up? Drakan's old annoying attitude had softened a bit. I poked at his pride anyway.
"You admitted losing the bet yourself, and now you're backing out?"
"Not backing out."
"Weird. I thought joining the ball was the prize if you won. Didn't peg you for a man who speaks with forked tongue. You really wanna break your word?"
"Tch."
He ground his teeth at "promise" but couldn't retort.
"Heh."
I chuckled and shook my head. Now I was free. That Cyclops gem from before could buy a whole mansion, right? Time to head to some quiet outskirts, gather info on Ascension...
"Oh, right."
As the bet winner, I had a question privilege. Drakan had promised answers to anything he knew.
Perfect timing. Our relationship had shifted since we met. I'd turned down the ball, but I knew he wouldn't break his word over that.
"What."
"Remember you promised to answer my question?"
"Probably some useless crap anyway. Spit it out."
He acted grumpy, but my question made his eyes widen slightly.
"Ascension."
"What?"
"Folks in this world sometimes reach a realm and ascend to the heavens. Know anything?"
"How do you know about that?"
"Saw it in the lab diary."
"Pauche's?"
"Yeah. What else was there to read? I mentioned the diary before."
"Hm."
Drakan nodded slowly, deep in thought. The silence stretched, long enough for a cup of tea. Then...
"Yeah, back in the day. Masters I'd hunt down after hearing rumors—they'd vanish, ascended. That kinda thing."
"Oh."
"But that's it. Thought it was just cowards' excuses back then. Still don't care much."
"You old—"
"But."
Drakan cut me off, raising a finger slowly.
"I can tell you who knows the most about it."
"Who, who is it?"
Of all things...
"The princess of the Carbon Kingdom."
The VVIP of the kingdom hosting this palace ball.
"Far as I know, no one collects intel on ascension or ascenders as seriously as her."
***
Days later. Carbon Kingdom.
Somewhere in the palace's hundred-plus lavish buildings.
A woman stared into a rippling crystal orb filled with mist. Her elf-like beauty twisted into a grimace, as if facing a blood enemy...
Which was odd. The grand palace ball started today. As the princess who'd be its center, that expression didn't fit.
Grind.
But it made perfect sense for her. She knew the real stakes went beyond the ball—national survival was on the line.
Yeah. She knew.
The massive ball was to lull the truce-bound Western Empire. And to forge connections, even one step stronger, with those on the cusp of Ascension.
Thus.
"Hoo."
Rubbing the crystal orb, her mind a tangle no one could know.
Chirp chirp chirp—
The morning of the Carbon Kingdom's grandest-ever palace ball had arrived.