Demonic Skeleton God-Chapter 96: Flain Known from the Past

Flain assumed that the tower wanted him to say the name of the person who had spoken that sentence. The solid name in the fog was Itai — Itai definitely hadn’t said that sentence. The second name was Fagiro; Flain remembered that boy well.

Fagiro, the youngest member of his special unit back in his home world. Fagiro specialized in throwing electric boomerangs that created an electric net which destroyed enemy soldiers. Fagiro was quite kind and approachable. Flain didn’t remember him ever saying something like that.

But the last name, which had somehow faded from his memory, brought a wave of nostalgia and at the same time, bloodlust. Geir was the chief commander of the guards who watched over the slave area where Flain had also been.

Flain’s head boiled just thinking about Geir. Geir was a conceited narcissist who tortured everyone and especially enjoyed torturing Flain. Every evening he would grab Flain by the hair and drag him behind the corner, where he would literally rip the skin from him alive. He still remembered what it felt like when Geir once cut the skin off his entire stomach and then beat him all night long. In that condition, Flain had to work until he bled.

The sentence "Move it you mutt, or I’ll beat you for not being able to stand." was something he always said to the slaves, mocking them to their faces while they were mining. Flain remembered well when he said it to him too.

Maybe you find it strange that Flain didn’t feel anger back on the second floor, when he had to relive the worst moments of his life, and now, just remembering someone he hated, caused him such rage.

The reason is that he has already come to terms with those events — what happened cannot be changed. But that fucking Geir probably still lives and enjoys himself, which infuriated Flain endlessly.

"Geir," Flain mumbled.

There was a moment of silence, and the fog spun in circles before another sentence echoed out.

"It’ll destroy you one day, but at least you’ll have time to become extraordinary." That same soulless voice from the fog sounded again.

Flain quickly tried to think of who might have said it, assuming the faster he answered, the more points he would earn.

Flain delved into the ancient depths of his mind, into his home world. He had long repressed the memories of his previous life, because he now had completely different priorities.

Flain thought and thought, and finally, from the depths of his mind, he pulled out what he needed. The one who had said that sentence was Goro. Goro had been Flain’s commander and at the same time his teacher from the very first moment he entered the army.

He noticed his potential and trained him personally. Goro was a good master, always quite strict with him, but his biggest weakness was that he was constantly drunk.

The sentence "It’ll destroy you one day, but at least you’ll have time to become extraordinary." was something he always said to Flain when he trained endlessly and never gave his body a moment of rest.

"Goro," Flain said.

"If you die, it’ll only be because you allowed it." A soulless voice echoed from the fog.

Flain started thinking again — this one felt the least familiar. He thought and thought until it finally clicked who had said it.

It was the supreme general under whom Flain served before he got his own special unit to command.

Flain had spoken to him a few times after becoming the commander of the special unit, but it couldn’t really be said that they were close. The sentence "If you die, it’ll only be because you allowed it." was something he always said before battle to motivate the soldiers. Flain remembered that his name was, he thought, Shoto — but he wasn’t sure, so hopefully it would be correct.

"Shoto," Flain said.

The fog began swirling again until it finally settled and dissipated, revealing a completely empty room with only an open staircase leading upward.

Flain expected some kind of twist or a second phase to follow, but nothing happened — he had completed the sixth floor. This was the second easiest floor, right after the second one. But of course, Flain didn’t mind. The professor hadn’t said that points were awarded based on the floor’s difficulty, so easy floors like this suited Flain just fine.

Flain didn’t hesitate and walked up the stairs to the seventh floor. He appeared in an empty, quiet room. In the middle was a large transparent wall that prevented Flain from passing any further.

It occurred to Flain that he could try breaking the wall, but if it were that simple, it would be too easy. Either he would break it and it would count as failure, or it was unbreakable for Flain. He doubted that the challenge on this floor was to break the wall.

"Hey Flain." A voice came from the wall, one that sounded very familiar.

Flain thought about it and was a bit confused. He recognized the voice — it was the voice of his only friend he had ever had, Denji.

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Flain was six years old. He had spent his entire life so far mining radioactive iron. There wasn’t a centimeter of fat on his body — only bone, skin, and swollen muscles trembling from overexertion. His body was dirty, scarred, and shaking from exhaustion and pain. He had many scars all over him because the overseers, especially Geir, enjoyed torturing him. The worst part was that Flain had already gotten used to it — it felt like a mandatory part of life to him.

If the overseers didn’t give the slaves a stimulant powder that gave them an insane boost of energy, none of the slaves would be able to keep working. Their bodies would collapse to the ground and likely not move for a long time.

The food was terrible too. Every day the slaves received a small pill from the overseers that contained the bare minimum nutrients their bodies needed just to survive. Sometimes Flain didn’t even get that pill, because when the overseers felt like it, they would swallow it right in front of his face and laugh at him.

Surprisingly, Flain didn’t mind. From birth, he was conditioned to believe that this was normal and that he shouldn’t resist. He was an obedient slave and never even thought about organizing an escape or anything similar...

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