The Magical Chronicles of Pride

"El, you lazy brat, how dare you still be in bed when there's work to be done! Do I have to drag you out myself?" A shrill voice, reminiscent of a rooster’s crowing, pierced El's ears. Startled, as if he had encountered a ghost in his dreams, El leaped out of bed, too frightened to even rub his sleepy eyes. He looked nervously at the woman scolding him—his aunt—who was once again urging him to get up and work. This cruel and vicious woman could never stand to see El rest for even a minute. Today, she looked particularly menacing, holding a wooden stick as thick as a child's arm. If she hit him on the head with that, it would surely split open. Fearing he had somehow displeased her again, El cautiously asked, "Aunt, what do you need me to do so early in the morning?" "Don’t play dumb with me, you brat. Get up and get to work," the woman snapped, her cold gaze fixed on El. "Aunt, I carried so many bags of rice yesterday that my back is still sore. It’s still early, can I sleep a little longer?" El hoped that, as her nephew, she might show him some leniency, but all he received was bitter disappointment. "You little runt, I feed you and give you a place to stay, and you dare try to negotiate with me? Get to work now! If you're itching for a beating, I’ll be happy to oblige." The woman swung the stick at El’s leg. "Aunt, I’m sorry! I’m going to work right now," El replied, wincing as he rubbed the spot where he had been struck with his dirty hands. "You better listen to me, you little mutt. If you don’t obey, I’ll break your legs." Her words were as venomous as ever. She knew El was too scared to disobey, so after her threat, she returned to her own bed to catch some more sleep. El sighed deeply, looking at the cold, broken roof and the freezing wooden plank he slept on. "When you're under someone else’s roof, you have to bow your head," he muttered. El’s life was filled with misfortune. His parents had passed away when he was just eight years old, leaving him alone in the world. On her deathbed, his mother had entrusted him to his uncle’s care. At an age when he should have been enjoying a carefree childhood, El instead lived in misery from the moment he was sent to live with his uncle. Now sixteen, El had endured eight long years of hardship. His uncle and aunt never treated him like a person, let alone like family. To them, he was just a slave, forced to work every day and constantly beaten. As the saying goes, "A child without parents is destined for a hard life." El often lamented how he had lived these past eight years, wearing discarded clothes and eating leftovers. Not only did his uncle and aunt treat him poorly, but even the other workers looked down on him, constantly bullying and mocking him. At that moment, a small head peeked around the door before entering. "El, why are you still dawdling here? If you don’t start working, that tigress will lose her temper again. She just hit me twice," the little girl said, rolling up her sleeve to show El the marks on her arm—two dark bruises on her snow-white skin. Seeing the girl’s injuries, El felt a pang of anger and resentment as he cursed, "That vicious woman is worse than a tiger." The "tigress" was a nickname El and the little girl secretly gave his aunt. Though she was a woman, she had none of the gentleness or grace usually associated with women, always quick to beat and scold others. The little girl was Shu Ling, a neighbor’s child who worked in El’s uncle’s house. Like El, Shu Ling was an orphan, just a few months younger than him. To El, she was the most beautiful girl in the world, with a kind heart and a caring nature. In this hostile household, Shu Ling was El’s only friend, the only one who treated him well. El was deeply grateful to her and vowed to repay her kindness someday. Their shared hardships made them inseparable. "Does it still hurt, Shu Ling?" El asked with concern. "It’s nothing. I’m used to it," Shu Ling replied, trying to downplay her injuries. The less she seemed to care, the more it pained El, who quickly asked, "But why did she hit you?" "El, stop asking questions. We need to get to work. If the tigress catches us dawdling, she’ll beat us again," Shu Ling reminded him. "Let’s go then." The two of them left the dilapidated house. Outside, it was still dark, with a chilly wind blowing. The stars in the sky twinkled brightly, as if watching over the earth. Despite the beauty of the night, El had no interest in admiring it. All he knew was that another exhausting day had begun, filled with endless work. For eight years, all El had known was hard labor and endless humiliation. His uncle and aunt treated him worse than their pets, and every time he thought about it, El felt a chill in his heart. He felt like someone abandoned by the world, surrounded by loneliness and despair. More than once, El had asked himself, "Is this really how my life is going to be?" This is our protagonist, El—a sixteen-year-old boy, forgotten by society yet destined for greatness. His extraordinary childhood forged a legendary life. El lives on the continent of Aoyuan, a place that values magic and martial arts—a mysterious and captivating land. The continent is home to dozens of nations, and El resides in the Daxiu Empire, a nation where magic reigns supreme. As a mage, one enjoys many privileges granted by the empire, both material and spiritual. In the Daxiu Empire, as well as across the entire continent, being a mage is not just a symbol of status but also of power. Therefore, learning magic and becoming a powerful mage is the ultimate goal for people in the Daxiu Empire and throughout Aoyuan. Changping City is the third-largest city in the Daxiu Empire, with a population of over half a million. Situated at the intersection of three nations, its advantageous location has made Changping a prosperous and thriving city. On this particular day, El had just finished his work and was about to rest, lost in thought over something only he knew. Just as he became engrossed in his thoughts, a loud voice interrupted him. "El, what are you doing standing around here? Get back to work! If I catch you slacking off again, you can forget about lunch." El didn’t need to look up to know who it was; the voice alone told him it was his uncle, Etches. Standing like a towering figure of doom, Etches glared down at El with a gaze that could eat him alive. Etches was once a small-time merchant in Changping City, but through luck—or perhaps the heavens’ indifference—he had somehow managed to establish connections with the city’s lord. With power and wealth in hand, their collusion made them unstoppable. Etches quickly rose from a small vendor to become the largest rice merchant in Changping City. The ones who suffered, of course, were the poor people whom they treated as nothing but ants. Only Etches knew how much he had to bribe the city lord, and he often boasted, "You have to spend money to make money." El despised his uncle’s methods but knew there was nothing he could do—he could barely take care of himself. Seeing his uncle’s fierce expression, El quickly said, "I’m going to work right now." He had no desire to look at Etches’ face any longer; it only made him feel more disgusted. "If I catch you slacking off again, don’t blame me for being heartless. Even though you’re my nephew, I’ve been feeding you and giving you a place to stay for eight years. Isn’t that enough?" Etches continued to scold El, treating him as nothing more than an outlet for his anger, a slave to do his bidding. In his eyes, El was nothing but a tool with a human shell. Since he was feeding El, the boy had to repay him with hard work. Family ties meant nothing; only wealth and status were valuable. "Yes, yes, without your kindness, I would have starved to death in the streets long ago," El replied insincerely, though in his heart, he often wondered why this man, who shared his blood, was so cold-hearted. In his heart, his uncle mattered less than Shu Ling, the girl from next door, who at least treated him like a human being, not a machine. But thoughts were one thing, and work had to be done. Otherwise, he wouldn’t get to eat. Even if it was just leftovers, they would fill his stomach. Eight years of hardship had taught El a simple rule: As long as you’re alive, there’s hope. If you’re dead, nothing matters. Only by living can you become stronger, and only by surviving can you one day succeed.