an unfortunate change in genre

Part 33

To fool your enemies, one first must fool one's friends.

This unfortunately wasn't a wisdom only known to agreeable folk with noble goals.

There were those who chose that path despite a lack of necessity and there were those who were just too blinded by a desire for revenge to even care about the details involved.

Cale Barrow.

It wasn't an impressive sounding name unless you knew the significance of it. But it didn't matter in the slightest if anyone knew the significance of it because he had no intention of being widely known under that title.

He was the White Star.

Not just mighty or powerful, but akin to a god in the making. Cale Barrow had every intention of making the world bow to his significance. He didn't just crave power.

He craved an eternal significance that stretched beyond mere fame.

His aspiration couldn't be described so insignificantly as words could describe.

He would attain godhood. He would break the rules tying others to reality and claim dominance over all living things.

His avarice knew no bounds and he was willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to embody the greatness he deserved.

He had decided to personally observe as his will was achieved. To all of his allies, he was supposedly recovering from his injuries in his castle and avoiding the public until he regained his strength.

It wasn't a lie that he was grievously injured. But for a man who's avarice stretched on into eternity, something as minor as a life-threatening injury was only a mere hiccup in the grander scheme of things.

He had his suspicions about Roksu Henituse.

The child that had been somehow involved in his reckoning for the better part of ten years now. An entity that made his skin crawl with disdain. In all likelihood, he was just what the White Star had initially assumed him to be.

Just a pawn for more powerful enemies utilized for their own means.

But he'd felt absolutely sure in that moment when he faced off against Roksu.

He was more than that. Perhaps he was another reincarnator. Someone chasing his shadow all these years, preparing to take him down. It all made sense when he thought of it that way.

Of course Roksu would need more than ten years to do this much damage to his power. The White Star was too powerful to be taken down by anything less than a fated opponent who'd lived many lives in preparation.

It actually comforted him quite a bit. A fated rival, an enemy to destroy and then to show his absolute dominance.

He had to see the moment when the life faded from Roksu Henituse's eyes. He wouldn't be satisfied otherwise.

In fact, rather than kill him, it might be even better to capture him. Force him to live and watch as the White Star regained all the power he'd lost over the years. Helpless even to reincarnate as the White Star kept him alive.

Oh, he rather liked that idea. If Roksu Henituse managed to survive the first wave, he'd do just that.

It was no loss to him even if Roksu died. The boy would be forced to start from zero and the White Star would be able to regain all he'd lost.

Maybe he'd gone a bit mad in his lonely immortality, but Cale Barrow lived on the simple pleasures in life because his perfect curse tore away the higher pleasures.