Kyi

The world of swords, cultivation and advancement has always been cut throat. There are those that reside at the bottom of the world, unable to wield a sword or temper their body. And then there are those that have risen to heights and have become this generations gods. But one point is always emphasized, through the stories of today, as well as the legends of tomorrow. Normal people can always advance. May it be from a heaven sent tribulation, or personal betterment, the world is kind and free to explore for those of a powerful nature.

Kyi has never been anything special. 'How special can a 17 year old be? Coming first in a competition of strength among fellow peasants? Perhaps sustaining himself for the past year alone whilst remaining resolute? Stupid. How stupid to think that I can be special whilst not being able to achieve anything' Kyi thought to himself.

Under the light of the moon, Kyi was getting to work in obtaining his first weapon. 'Am I the bad guy?' Kyi thought to himself as he continuously pummelled a poor peasant beneath him. To Kyi, this was a needed act, the god's themselves told him this! In fact just hours before the divine were telling him he needed to power up, and fast.

The beggar had a scar running from the corner of he's eye down to the interlink of he's jaw and lip. However it no longer resembled the hardship he once triumphed as fresh blood began to drop and the scar began to tear. The shine of a metallic sword could be seen, pulsating under the night light, staring back at Kyi as if a businessman made a million!

"Mercy! Please have mercy!" Cried the peasant, clearly succumbing to the pain, ready to faint.

"Give me the sword. This is the last time I'll ask you, as for the next you'll be incapable of answering, swine." Kyi viciously mouthed.

Under the spotlight of the night sky, Kyi's bone tight structure could be soon illuminated under the moon and stars, the flick-over of his white hair slightly glowing and his hands drenched in blood. 'I never envisioned I would become so ruthless, almost like a monster. Funny what the need of power will drive a soul like mine to' Kyi mouthed inwardly.

Fearing for his life, the poor backwater swine fell short of his brave act and reluctantly unsheathed he's sword, laying it down in front of him before mouthing what sounded like a family vow.

Kyi picked up the sword as it glistened, truly portraying itself as a sword unworthy of such a peasant. This fool really is stupid, leading me to this sword. Prince Babik would be truly ashamed to know that this peasant stole he's family sword from him, and couldn't even keep it for a single night!

Thinking back uncontrollably to the divine voice he heard despite just beating that filthy rat, Kyi had a lot of unanswered questions. 'Just who was that voice, what a random occurrence. Asking me to get stronger, and with haste at that. What a joke. Sounds like a pipe dream, maybe I really am ill!' It had only been a day since the voice had been heard. Telling him that he must grow and prosper until they can help him. When others would be scared, Kyi became confident and lusted for power. He was sick and tired of the cold nights in the street and he wanted change, maybe becoming more powerful, or maybe a prison cell due to the heinous crime of possessing the prince's sword. As for the peasant? No one will care about him, no one ever does.

With a slight hint of regret in his eyes, he proceeded to pick up the sword, grasping the handle firmly before sheathing the blade in to the sheath by his waist. Being a mere peasant, the possessions of Kyi were little. Having only a pouch of coins from he's "roadside adventures" and the sword of the prince he saw stupidly showing off earlier today.

'It's time for me to retire for tonight' Kyi thought as he decided to look for an inn to stay the night out of consideration of his new 'present'. He walked for what seemed like an hour before reaching the "Bohemians Leg Inn". Being of eastern European descent, Kyi didn't venture out of he's home country at all after he's mother left him in search of her own riches. This sudden thought struck Kyi down to he's core before unhesitatingly rushing in to the inn.

Once inside he paced over to the bar where the barman lazily stared at him, before opening his hand and asking, "Silly kid, do you have the money to even buy yourself a drink, let alone stay the night eh? Funny child, ha-ha! Truly hilarious!" The once lazy eyes of the barman gradually lit up along with the laughter on his face causing the creases on he's forehead to fold once over. Kyi had enough and threw 15 copper coins over the bar. The laughter of the barman disappeared before handing over a room key to Kyi whilst silently cursing. 'Filthy peasant'. Kyi took the key before rushing to the room, which was number 4 as shown on the key.

Slipping in to the room, Kyi locked the door behind him before slipping of he's shoes and laying down in the hard straw bed. 'He had such an attitude and the beds are not even good quality! Puh! At least it beats sleeping on the floor' whilst having such thoughts, he unsheathed the sword and began to examine it properly. Real iron swords were extremely rare, even more so being the heirloom of a prince! It had the name "Babik" labelled on it as well as typical cosmetic bohemian tribal runes. It is said that these four runes represent the most important things in bohemian life. Power, desire, future and death. The reason behind these runes were the fact they represent powerful factors on a humans decisions. Tribes of Bohemia believe in these runes and the idea that they represent.

Although Kyi long forgot his family name, he resonates with the sword itself. 'One day when I'm strong enough I'll make sure that I forge my own family and make a prestigious name!'' he bellowed in his mind.

As he lay down to rest and retire for the night, an imposing feeling rose up within him, an almost holy feeling, that of a tribulation. Kyi knew that a huge test was approaching him, and he felt a warm feeling addressing him, calling out to him from the god's themselves.

"WHO TOOOK MY FUCKING SWORD?!!?!"

The poor houses of the village trembled and shook, barely withstanding the might of the scream. An aura that felt like it could tear the skin of anything it touched resounded throughout the starry night.

It carried with it the might of a fierce punch, causing Kyi to instinctively hide under the bed.

'Who is causing this massive ruckus' he thought to himself.

Without even having time to recoup his breath the voice blurted out once more.

'WHO DARES FUCK WITH ME, PRINCE BABIK OF THE CITY OF ANDOR? WHO FUCKING HAS IT?!"

Cold sweat began to drip down Kyi's face as he understood what was happening. 'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck I didn't think he would be so strong! He is a cultivator ….. Oh man oh man what do I do.' His hands clenched involuntarily as he realised the magnitude of this situation. Cultivators were the rulers of the universe, ruling mighty planets and systems at command. A peasant like Kyi had never actually seen a cultivator before, but heard the tales. A poor village like his would never see a cultivator if not for Prince Babik looking for a relic in the area. Even if Earth had plenty of cultivators, none would bother with a small petty village like his, this was common talk. Blood slowly dripped out of his palms when something unexpected happened. The relics on the sword lit up and started wailing, calling out for their master.

"....WHY THE FUCK ARE COSMETIC RUNES MAKING NOISE!"