Surviving in my Own Unpublished Failed Novel

Russell Moon, before his reincarnation in the world of his own unpublished , was someone who loved the "Fantasy" genre because of the limitless possibilities an author or writer could pour into his story. With that said, being a stock trader almost all his life, he adored the stories he had read, causing him to try to write his own.

And as a lover of Fantasy, using his imagination and ideas that were born out of other stories and collectively mixing them to create whatever he wanted, Russell Moon had written a character that basically resembled his past self, which was also somewhat his current nature – introverted and would only make a move, possibly noticeable, if there's a purpose on the line.

An outcast, who felt betrayed by a person like him was now standing in the arena with a dull expression as if getting chosen to participate in this tournament was more of a nuisance than an opportunity.

Lyra Mihaela, the Vice President of the Disciplinary Committee, as someone with similarity to being a wallflower, was getting the attention she never wanted,

Just like what Russell had previously thought, there's always a human being that would want to see the world burn just for the sake of it, but wouldn't let or want his own security to be ruined. That's exactly the type of person Lyra Mihaela was – a character that Russell Moon had written by using himself as a reflection.

However, there was an exemption, because Russell described her in a vague, but simple way – His flip side when all else failed him, even by himself.

'If there's one variable that I shouldn't need to worry about, it would be her, though it's still necessary for me to double-check her background just in case there's something amiss.'

Russell muttered to himself, watching Lyra enter the arena, as well as her current opponent. Pondering for a moment, in his mind, Russell added:

'Well, that's about it. For now, I'll just watch this short horror skit.'

***

Lyra Mihaela was a delicate, hardworking, gorgeous woman. She possessed waist-length light greyish hair, and a pair of dull greyish-black eyes, and her body was fitted, something that most men gawked at, especially in a place where people regularly strengthened their muscles or wanted to get fit.

Across her, around ten meters away, an Elven woman, who possessed long light green hair, sun-like eyes, and with a petite body was standing, scrutinizing her. They waited for the signal that would signify the start of the match.

After the match presider had confirmed that there was no concern, about three to four seconds later, the match between the two began.

"Greetings! I'm Makaela. It's an honor."

The usual gesture of an Elf, though in any way, entered Lyra's ears. However, the Elf didn't get a response as Lyra just stared at her with a blank expression, her thoughts unknown.

"What a dull woman you are. I thought humans are hospitable creatures, but it seems I might be wrong."

Trying to provoke her opponent before catching her off guard, Makaela said in a cheeky manner, but alas, a reaction from Lyra was almost nonexistent as she was just waiting for the Elf to attack.

"You should learn some manners by answering if there's someone talking!"

Without waiting for her opponent to make a move or to say anything, Makaela disappeared from her spot, and at the same time, she quickly took out her Personal Weapon from her Dimensional Inventory – an intricate wooden staff made of sturdy branches and other supplementary materials that could be found inside a Tower Dungeon owned by the Elves.

Based on Makaela's approach, she's similar to a Battle Mage, whose weapon was a Staff, but more engaged in close-range combat.

[Vines of Agony Staff Technique, First Movement: Swirling Thorns]

At that moment, with a speed that could only be seen by those with high perception, her weapon cleaved down against Lyra, who was currently looking ahead as if she was frozen, unable to process the agility of how fast Makaela's movements were.

Her weapon produced thorny vines as if it were a land where there was a live plant seed and fertile soil. These vines formed a circle and spun around, ready to make contact with Lyra's slightly whitish supple skin as the initial strike.

However, during that span of time, in a mere two to three seconds since Makaela disappeared from her spot, the light greyish eyes of Lyra, who was looking absentmindedly and seemed to be unable to react, slowly, but gradually cast her gaze to the Elf.

Makaela's sun-like eyes constricted as confusion painted on her face because it looked like Lyra had no intention of blocking her incoming strike. Although Lyra seemed to possess no will to make a reaction apart from making eye contact with her, it didn't falter Makaela's momentum as she continued her attack.

Bam-! Crack-! Spurt-! Spurt-

Upon the great impact, a cloud of smoke temporarily reduced the visibility in the arena. After a few seconds, the spectacle screened in every spectator's pair of eyes, which then widened in horror and grimaced at the sight in front of them.

Yes, Lyra was hit as her shoulder bone cracked and thorny vines pierced her upper body, causing blood to flow down her skin, but, as apathetic as ever, there was no expression on her face. However, her opponent, Makaela's condition was the main cause of the spectators' reactions because…

Her limbs – both hands and legs – separated from her body as blood splattered everywhere like a fountain that could flow in four directions. What's strange though, was that her remaining upper body was floating, her sun-like eyes in horror, as if she's tied with invisible threads.

Conscious in her horrible state, Makaela, whose expression turned pale, looked at Lyra, who was still painted with blankness on her face, and said:

"W-what did you do…"

As her words left her trembling mouth, something crept up from Lyra's back. It was an ancient-looking "Doll". It sat on Lyra's shoulder, and glanced at her owner, before looking at the pitiful Elf. This doll, apart from exuding an ancient atmosphere, had two closed eyes and short dark hair. It's wearing clothes that were made of paper with ancient, subtle runic scribbles that one couldn't and almost impossible to grasp.

As expected, Makaela didn't receive a response to her bewilderment. She was doing her best to withstand the agony she was feeling, but she felt like going crazy any time soon because, with the extreme loss of blood, she was supposed to be dead, but this fright seemed to continue forever.

After some time, Lyra finally made a move as she coldly addressed the Elf, who looked desperate from receiving a response from her.

[Activating the Unique Skill: Malevolent Self]

[The Neglected Evil Doll will randomly manifest its emotions.]

"R-release me-! P-please! I-I surrender!"

With her floating body and head, Makaela's personality shifted from being cheeky to being a true coward. She glanced, looking for the match presider, only to discover that everyone, other than the two of them, was looking at her with horrified and disgusted expressions as if she was an abomination that shouldn't exist.

"H-hey! Please! L-Lyra!

"XX-"

What responded to the Elf's pleading was a low, chilling voice. It was the ancient doll, termed the Neglected Evil. Upon hearing the indescribable voice, which spoke an inexplicable unknown language, Makaela's ears burst as an involuntary cry reverberated throughout the arena.

What's more, as her ears ruptured, and crimson blood flowed, the spectators who were watching the fight all cackled at her.

"HAHAHA-! HAHAHA-!"

"S-stop…! Stop it-!!"

Since her hands were detached from her body, she couldn't cover her ears. Her auricular sense was picking up the echo of hatred, causing her mind to have suicidal thoughts because she wanted to do at the moment was to end this unspeakable misery.

***

"H-hey, Oppa… W-what's happening to her?"

Sweat was evident on Freya's face as she was watching the match happening in the arena. Almost everyone was silent at the sight, but Russell answered his younger sister's curiosity.

"It's an illusion, but a complex one because it embodies the person's malevolent self."

Russell vaguely said. What was in front of their eyes was different from the scenery in Makaela's perspective. From the spectator's eyes, Makaela's attack almost reached Lyra, but before it hits, the former kneeled down out of nowhere and started screaming and begging to stop what was happening. Aside from the psychological effect of the illusion caused by the Neglected Evil Doll, "some" of what's happening in the illusion was manifesting in reality, though in a different way.

Makaela's ears were bleeding, and she was trying her best to tear off her own limbs, depicting her perspective inside Lyra's spell.

"This is outright creepy."

Freya muttered as she processed her older brother's vague words.

A few minutes had passed, then the final cry of Lyra's opponent resounded in the arena.

"S-stop!!!"

The Elf's eyes became red and bloodshot as crimson liquid started pouring down from them. Two to three seconds later, she then grabbed her own eyes.

Spurt-!

With that sight, the match presider already knew who won, that's why he stepped in and ended the match before quickly making a response to aid the Elf's condition.

"She just needs to sleep."

Her soft and cold voice resounded in the presider's ears, who then nodded in gratefulness because even he didn't know Makaela's condition.

***

'Neglected Evil Doll… it's basically an embodiment of evil with the purpose of sightseeing the world's destruction. In other words, the world's despair is its strength.'

Russell Moon thought, remembering the reflection of himself when he had written such a thing.

In his previous life, when experiencing the psychological condition known as Social Anxiety, there were moments when he felt betrayed, cheated, and worthless, which caused him to have suicidal thoughts.

Although these were just thoughts, they just showed how messed up his emotional state was at that time.

However, knowing the precious gift of life and the nonsensical action of killing oneself, Russell strived hard to get back on his own two feet without the hands of others personally, but with the help of the existing stories that made him feel inspired and granted him the will to live.

Seeing the battle just now, a thought struck him.

'So, that's the manifestation of my evil side in my previous life. Of course, veiled mysteries aside.'

***

Several years ago, in an orphanage.

"You ungrateful brat-! Stop playing with the others' dolls!"

Lyra, as a child in a certain orphanage, liked to secretly collect the toys of the other children.

"B-but, they're just throwing them away!"

Slap-!

"Who told you to answer like that, huh?! We're not feeding someone like you to be rude!"

Lyra's hand was caressing her left cheek as one of the personnel of the orphanage shouted and slapped her.

The other children looked at her with mocking expressions.

"Haha, Lyra's a thief!"

pαпdα Йᴏνê|,сòМ "She's a liar, too! S-she threw away my toy!"

Different voices echoed in her head.

"What are you standing there for? Go back to your room! Sigh, kids these days!"

The same cycle repeated a couple of times until one day, it just happened.

The moment she reached seven years old and received the System interface and guidance, there was something she couldn't understand, but as a seven-year-old child, she told her assigned caretaker her profession, causing her to be kicked out of the orphanage, not because of her profession itself, but rather she's accused of being crazy by spouting nonsensical sounds.

In other words, her profession was written in a language that couldn't be understood.

***

"Lyra-! Hey!"

Tap. Tap.

"Uh, huh?"

"You're spacing out again, congrats on winning your match! Girl, that's brutal as heck."

Azalea, the President of the Disciplinary Committee, said to her with a smile.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Sigh. Anyways, since there's not much to do later, let's have a drink."

Lyra nodded at Azalea's words, one of the few people she was showing respect in a genuine sense, not by obligation.

"A-alright, your treat, President."