My Friend Is Me

Human nature is complex.

Virtues such as humility, compassion, kindness, solidarity, and goodwill truly exist.

But that kindness is reserved only for fellow humans—and beings recognized by humanity.

Clearly.

A skeletal monstrosity does not belong in that category.

The girl, cursed by sorcerers and eroded by necrotic energy, had long become a grotesque abomination.

She lost her beautiful face—now hideous and horrifying.

She lost her fair skin—now pale bones starkly visible.

She lost her beating heart—now replaced by a glaring, unmissable soulfire.

"Get out, monster!"

"Quick, kill that thing!"

Angry stones were hurled; blades slashed mercilessly.

Servia Clawphire.

Once the radiant emerald bathed in sunlight, she now experienced malice for the first time—terrified, helpless, as people called her a monster.

It shouldn’t have been like this. It was never meant to be like this.

Servia had no intention of harming anyone.

She only wanted to protect the people of Clawphire Territory as best she could, even if time had stretched so long that they’d forgotten her name.

Yet the girl who grew up listening to tales of "heroes" still wished, in this perilous world,

to shield the innocent however she could.

At the very least.

She couldn’t let her departed parents down.

That was what Servia believed. But the villagers thought otherwise, their faces twisted in terror as they screamed, driving the undead Servia away.

In the end, she could only flee.

In the most pitiful state—stumbling, falling, scrambling back up, running.

She couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t bring herself to raise a sword against frightened people.

So she had no choice but to escape.

Far, far away, where only rot and stench kept her company, back to the ruins of what was once her home.

"Great Sorcerer."

In the rain-drenched, withered forest.

Drops of water pattered, echoing crisply.

The hero clad in heavy armor, half-shrouded in darkness, seemed oddly small, her voice lost and hesitant: "What do you think…"

"Should one judge a person’s goodness by their appearance… or by their heart?"

"My… friend."

"Servia… really, really wants to know the answer."

Her hands fidgeted unconsciously, rubbing rust between gauntleted fingers. Inside that suffocating armor, the undead girl waited for Xu Xi’s reply.

Her voice was hoarse, trembling.

As if filled with leaden grit.

Harsh and grating.

It even disturbed the dead branches above, making the droplets fall faster—one after another, shattering before Xu Xi’s eyes.

"The answer…" Xu Xi recalled past simulations.

Finally, he spoke to the girl hidden beneath layers of steel.

"I don’t know."

"Why?"

The reply left her bewildered, her disbelief palpable.

Even through the thick helmet.

Xu Xi could feel that wordless, stunned gaze—silently pleading for understanding.

Xu Xi met her gaze. "A person’s goodness depends on many things. Not just appearance. Not just the heart."

"In this world, there are no absolute answers."

"Good or bad—no one can truly say."

"Besides, I’ve never believed my worth should be judged by others."

Memories surfaced—of the third simulation, leading the Desperate Army against Da Qian, hearing the furious curses of its officials.

Xu Xi shook his head.

"What matters most in life is believing in yourself."

"So… we shouldn’t care about others’ words?"

"You can care, or not. The choice doesn’t matter. What matters is that you make it."

Inside the armor, the undead girl fell silent.

This sorcerer was… unusual.

Unlike the wicked ones she’d met before, he didn’t toy with souls or revel in cruelty. Instead, he spoke strangely profound words that resonated deep within.

He seemed…

like a good sorcerer.

"Thank you for your wisdom." As if unburdened, her soulfire flickered brighter. She bowed slightly, gratitude in her tone.

"If my friend were here, she’d… surely appreciate your answer too."

Her words were clumsy.

Hiding behind the flimsy pretense of a "friend."

Amid the falling droplets.

The undead girl asked one final question.

"Great Sorcerer… do you think Servia—my friend—is still human?"

She added hastily, "She believes she is. But she wants to hear another’s thoughts."

In the darkness.

A fire flickered.

The glow of a soul—hollow yet burning fiercely.

An invisible yearning hung in the air—a fragile, tormented spirit waiting for Xu Xi’s reply, waiting for affirmation.

The dead forest was silent.

So silent that the soul grew uneasy.

Then—

A "light" appeared.

"Of course. Even with an undead body, her mind is undeniably human."

The words tore through the night like a crack of thunder—harsh yet warm.

Beaten, cursed, driven away, attacked.

The "hero" who rose after countless setbacks.

Now… faltered.

She stood frozen for a long moment.

"...Thank you." The voice inside the armor remained rasping, but now carried relief—and light.

The emerald of the Clawphire family was the most fearless of knights.

Even alone, she would march forward, sword in hand.

She knew she was no hero.

She knew she was pitifully weak.

She didn’t even know if her actions held meaning—only that she sought redemption, haunted by the sin of ending her parents’ lives, desperate to do something right to atone.

"Monster!" "Fiend!" "Demon!"

People loathed her, driving her away again and again.

Even hidden beneath armor, their malice reached her.

But today.

Someone acknowledged Servia’s existence—declared with conviction that within that monstrous shell beat a human heart.

"...Thank you."

The undead girl bowed again.

Guilt gnawed at her.

Her hands trembled as they gripped the helmet, slowly lifting it to reveal her ghastly face once more.

She seemed to steel herself.

"Great Sorcerer, earlier you asked… my true name, and how this body became like this."

"Now, I’ll give you the answer."

"The truth is…"

"I am Servia Clawphire!"

The night was still.

Servia waited for Xu Xi’s reaction—but he remained expressionless, seated calmly, watching her without a flicker of surprise.

No shock. No disbelief.

Servia blinked. "Aren’t you… surprised? About my identity."

"Servia."

"Ah—yes?"

"Has anyone ever told you… you’re terrible at conversation?"

"Eh?! How did you know?!"