The young heir of Daniel Parker, Of Titan, Maxwell Parker, one of many children but the most outstanding of them all, even from a young age.
The ability to stay calm no matter the situation, an intuition that surprised the adults in Titan, and furthermore, the same eyes his father had.
Calculative and eerie, but there was something different about his eyes, though they resembled his father in many ways, there was still warmth in them that his father didn't have.
The reason? His mother raised him well, that was all that could be said. However, Titan expected more, therefore, from his birth he was subjected to a life of training.
The exact minutes he took a sip of water, the very second he slept and the hour he was forced to train, study, and accumulate all kinds of experiences. Everything followed a strict schedule. Something even a child as outstanding as him failed to handle.
However, perhaps a saving grace were the sensible adults and his own mother present at the guild, which offered him respite from such a grueling schedule. A conclusion reached after weeks of struggle.
However, when this rigorous schedule was stopped, he was called by his father. Something that had never happened before, the first.
The guild master called one of his children to the special room, and as a young Maxwell followed his father into it, he found himself to be drowsy.
His father guided him by the hand, and as they passed through the halls of the building, decorated with priceless paintings from all Eras his father acquired, Maxwell began to feel drowsy, and felt the light become brighter. Newest update provıded by 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝗇𝗲𝘵
The lights in the ceiling stung his eyes more than usual, it was almost unbearable, but the young child remained silent, curious as to what his father wanted to talk to him about.
What could the greatest man want to discuss?
What was it? Why would he call him over? Did that mean he was special? Was his position as the next guild master secured?
He didn't know, not until he entered the special room.
A room where his father stored all of his 'Wealth'. In the form of priceless books, men and women of gold, trinkets of insurmountable value and many more, but what caught Maxwell's eyes was not the great wealth.
"Now, Little one, go forward."
It was an evaluation crystal, clearly the highest grade that could be acquired from the Dwarven Traders. He moved forward, towards the crystal as his father encouraged him to touch it.
A rank evaluation at his age? He had read it wasn't recommended... but it was still done, because he didn't want to disappoint his father. He placed his hands on the crystal, and the white light burned his eyes, as it got overtaken by gold.
The next thing Maxwell knew, years had passed, he struggled to remember what had gone in the last few years, all he knew was that he was present in front of a crystal once more.
The same model, but in the evaluation center, instead of being surrounded by golden statues, he looked up to see multiple people staring at him. Camera's pointed at him, his parents nowhere to be seen.
Only the high officials of the guild, who looked at him with gazes full of expectations, everyone else was anxious.
Only one man was looking at him with cold indifference, perhaps a bit of pity. It was Logan Fornum, along with his grandson, Ezra Fornum, perhaps the only one looking at him with curiosity.
All he knew, was that day expectations were betrayed, the eyes of anticipation, respect, even pride turned into disgust, indifference, and humiliation.
C-tier Talent evaluation, and even among them, his was on the lower end of it all. His body was incapable of holding onto mana for prolonged durations, and even worse, the amount he could enhance was pathetic compared to other C-ranks.
He didn't even have any cool inborn skills, no unique skills like people had expected, His aptitude for magic and martial arts vanished as his dull mind saw the light emanate from the crystal. His aptitude for learning skills was bad as well.
All he had was [Iron Will], a skill that allowed him to remain calm no matter the circumstance, enhanced his mental capabilities and granted him resistance to status effects that harmed the mind. A standard skill that was surprisingly incredibly powerful... however it wasn't useful for an awakened that couldn't be a mage, or a warrior.
That was all he had, along with bad stats. All he had, the prodigy everyone expected to succeed the guild master of Titan was nothing but trash.
That was it, the end of his life in Titan.
His shadow appeared before him, as an exact replica of himself, with the same weapons, the same clothes, and even the same haughty glare, except it looked as if he was staring at a statue carved from obsidian.
It asked, as it slowly approached him, walking forward with measured steps. Maxwell took his gun out from its holster, and took aim.
"The fu- What do you mean?"
His [Iron Will] kicked in, just when he was about to curse. He kept his aim steady as he waited for the reply.
[What do I mean? You know well.]
Maxwell furrowed his brows, his finger on the trigger, ready to pull. He wouldn't miss, not at this range, unless his adversary could move as fast as Alan.
[The agony, the dullness.]
It was close to him, the barrel of his gun was inches away from its head as it stopped and asked.
[What do you think we can do?]
[Do you think we stand a chance?]
Ah, he got it now, he understood what it meant.
He fired his gun, not even a second after the shadow released a punch, which struck him right in the chin. But it was weak, pathetically weak.
Of course, it would be, it was him after all. It was his own shadow.
[Your shadow accepts your conviction.]
[You have gained the ability, Shadow Master.]
[You have gained a slight affinity to the shadows.]
The figure disappeared, dissolving into the black ground as Maxwell felt a change undergo in his body.
Silently, he affirmed, as he put his weapons back in his inventory.
"After all this is over, I got a pretty good fucking chance."