‘Let’s test this right.’ Edmund was walking back and forth at his home.

  After getting the radios, the boy went to the blacksmith shop, which was distant from his home.

  ‘There is no way this could get this far.’ He had thought about walking.

  The boy opened the door after knocking on it. The gray-haired man was working as usual and putting a smile on his face.

  ‘So? What's it this time?’ Ruppert asked.

  ‘My new idea is to talk to you from home.’ Edmund showed him the radio.

  After giving one to the blacksmith, he moved to the next room.

  ‘Hello? Are you hearing me?’ The boy talked to the device.

  Ruppert jumped in shock after hearing Edmund’s distorted voice from the box he held.

  ‘Ruppert, you can use it too; place your finger on the side,’ Edmund continued.

  ‘Hello?’ As he spoke, the blacksmith moved his finger to the side of the radio.

  This time, when Edmund heard the blacksmith's voice, he jumped in surprise and ?ran out of the room to hug Ruppert.

  ‘Thanks, thanks, thanks!!!!’ The boy grinned while looking up at the blacksmith's face.

  ‘Again, kid, do not show this to anyone. I do not know when you will get to impress the king, but be ready for it. Who knows? You might end up in a better position than you do now.’ Ruppert fixed an earnest gaze on the young boy as he stroked his hair.

  Edmund attempted to keep his activities a secret as the years passed; it was unnecessary since no one interacted with or tried to get close to him. Even when he was ill, some medications just got delivered to his door, and it was up to him to do the rest.

  Years spent at the library built up trust between him and the librarian, which opened the possibility of him taking some books home to continue his studies. If everything he needed to do were read, this point would finish the library. However, he had to test his devices, and failure was the norm as things got more complex, which gave him insight into how the incantations functioned when he engraved them into his builds. In the end, Edmund referred to them as runes.

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  By the time he was ten, Edmund had more faith in his creations, but because of space constraints in the warehouse he lived in and his desire to avoid drawing attention to himself, everything he created was ?a prototype. As a result, more significant projects were not possible; they were only built to show that it was possible. Something easy, like the most recent invention he was working on, the flying machine he could control with a controller.

  ‘Wow, it is working. It is working!!!’ The boy smiled?.

  The flying object, which resembled a box with four smaller boxes attached to its sides, was going back and forth, up and down, in the warehouse.

  ‘It took me two years to make this work; it is awesome!!!’ Edmund shouted.

  As it flew through his house under his control, the gadget eventually landed on the floor next to the other things he worked on.

  ‘Well, this is it; I can’t do more. It is time to focus on the equipment that will make this job easier, and most importantly, it is time to start training. As far as I know, the hero sword is the only weapon capable of killing the demon lord.’ The young boy reached for a wooden sword he had asked Ruppert to make.

  It was wider than two swords put together and longer; as a result, it was heavier than most swords, but according to his memories, that was not a problem for the hero, as his style made him look like a wild beast, swinging it and using the momentum of his strikes and counters to his advantage. Even that alone caused Edmund anxiety because, by his standards, some moves are just impossible to do; the style is kind of useless if you don't have the hero’s strength.

  Edmund started swinging the sword like a hero. It was as if he knew what to do, but it was obvious that most moves were impossible. He needed more strength, not because of training or muscle, but because his body lacked magic to enhance his movements like the hero did naturally.

  ‘Let’s begin training, one problem at a time.’

  The boy began his daily training sessions to strengthen his body. After several months, he had a desperate idea.

  ‘I could use the runes to draw magic into my body, and it is so ridiculous that it might work.’ Edmund thought as he leaned on his sword.

  He ended up making a bracelet, but simply putting it on had no effect at all. He made a bracelet with spikes to pierce into his flesh. The worst part will be that, even if it works, he must pull the bracelet several times to adjust the runes to be proper, not more or less.

  When Edmund looked at the table with the bracelet, the only thing that came to mind was crying. He had stolen alcohol, bandages from the medications he had received when he was ill, and a piece of wood to put over his mouth to stop him from screaming.

  ‘Why do I have to do this? Is this any better than being rejected by my parents and living alone?’ He dropped to his knees, sobbed loudly, and closed his eyes.

  Memories of war came to his mind: people screaming and calling for help. He saw all of this from the sky, explosions all around, and suddenly, he opened his eyes.

  ‘What is the point of this, anyway? Why do I have so much regret? It's not my fault; I did nothing wrong; I’m not him!!!' He then started to punch the ground out of frustration.

  Edmund grabbed the bracelet, but as he moved it closer to his arm, the air became heavy, and his hand started to shake a lot.

  ‘I can’t do this.’ With his head on the floor and tears running down his cheeks,

  Edmund spent his days walking and doing nothing after training with his sword. But he looked at the bracelet on the table every night and felt terrible that it was still there. That feeling was not even his; it was the memories.

  In the morning, he visited Ruppert as usual, not to ask for anything but to talk a little. The blacksmith noticed he was down as he got in and got comfortable.

  ‘Is everything all right, kid?’ The blacksmith asked while hammering a sword.

  ‘Would you help someone if it caused you pain, Ruppet?’ Edmund came closer to Ruppert.

  ‘That is difficult. Am I the only one who can assist him? Is it a terrible situation?’ The blacksmith stopped and looked at the boy.

  ‘That is not fair; I asked the question.’ Edmund looked annoyed.

  ‘Well, kid, if it is someone close to me, yes. If not, it depends, but I would help anyway; I helped you even though it was risky.’ Ruppert grinned at Edmund.

  ‘Yeah..’ The boy responded with a solemn smile.