Alaric past-2

"What was Alaric's father's connection to this seal inherited from the Five Kings?" Julius muttered to himself, his brows furrowed in concern. "The Church of the Evernight God… How is it linked to the mystery of this place?"

Memories surged through him like a storm. Julius saw himself plunging into the sea, reliving the moment he had faced the pirate lord alone.

Waves crashed against Alaric, tossing him violently. Though he was a skilled swimmer, the sea's fury was relentless. His body was thrown about, struggling to stay afloat. He called out desperately, "Evernight God, save us! Save my father!"

A harrowing scene unfolded—Alaric, fighting with all his might, gasping for air, but the merciless waves swallowed his cries. His strength waned. His movements slowed. And then...

He sank.

"What?! He died?" Julius blurted out. "No… That's impossible. He stands before me now, a man in his thirties."

Julius let out a dry chuckle, mocking the absurdity of his own thoughts.

And yet, the memories continued—

"Boy… Hey, boy! Wake up!"

"Captain, is he still alive?"

"Stop asking me that! Just keep up the damn artificial respiration!"

"Damn it, I don't want my lips touching another man's! Ugh, this is disgusting!"

A voice cut through the fog of his mind. Julius could hear people—distant, but growing clearer.

"Agh—!"

Alaric jerked awake, spewing seawater from his lungs. His mind was in disarray. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

"Hah! He really lived. Your attempt at kissing him wasn't in vain, Phil."

"Shut up, Captain! I only did as you ordered!"

"Who… Who are you?" Alaric rasped, forcing himself to speak.

A grizzled man with a bottle of rum stepped forward, swaying slightly. "You should be thanking me instead of questioning me, boy. If I hadn't passed by your wreck, you'd be feeding the fish by now."

"My father! Where's my father?!" Alaric's voice was frantic as the memories returned in a rush.

The old man clicked his tongue. "Your father? Did he drown too? We only found you drifting in the sea."

Alaric's breath hitched. "But… You said you passed by a ship! My father's ship! Where is it?! Pirates attacked us—he was fighting them alone! Please, you have to help me!"

The old man sighed, rubbing his scruffy chin. He ambled toward the ship's railing, peering out at the ocean. "You mean… that burning wreckage over there?"

Alaric's heart plummeted. "What…?"

Without thinking, he lurched forward, but his weak and battered body betrayed him. He staggered, unable to balance himself.

Someone steadied him—a sailor offering support. Together, they approached the ship's edge.

And then, he saw it.

A colossal ship, engulfed in roaring flames, reduced to a fiery skeleton against the dark waters. His father's ship.

"No… That's our ship! What happened?! Where is my father?!"

Alaric turned to the old man, his voice raw with desperation. "Did you see the battle? Did you see my father fight?!"

The old man exhaled, shaking his head. "Kid… By the time we got here, the ship was already burning. If your father fought pirates…" He paused before adding coldly, "Then he lost. And he died alongside his ship."

Rage flared in Alaric's chest. He grabbed the old man's collar, his grip shaking. "How dare you say that?! My father wouldn't lose to mere pirates!"

A brutal fist crashed into Alaric's face, sending him sprawling across the deck.

"Listen, brat." The old man sneered. "What the hell do I gain from lying to a naive kid like you?"

His voice darkened with mockery. "And you called them 'mere pirates'? Let me teach you something."

He loomed over Alaric. "In this world, the strong survive. It doesn't matter if it's a drunkard, an old beggar, or a child—if they have the strength to kill you, they will. And no one will care about your noble ideals."

The old man gestured toward the wreck. "Your father is dead. That ship has long since burned. If he fell into the sea, he's fish food by now. The only reason you're breathing is because we happened to pass by. Remember that, kid."

Alaric's hands clenched into fists. His voice cracked. "No… The Evernight God wouldn't abandon him. The deity guided you here… That means my father will be saved too, right?!"

The old man took a swig of rum, then let out a cruel laugh. "A god? Saving your father?"

He moved closer, then without warning, drove his boot into Alaric's gut. The impact forced bile up his throat, making him retch violently.

The old man tilted his bottle. "Tell me, kid. If there was a god, then why hasn't your father shown up? How could he survive the sea, the fire? Are you saying your father could defy nature itself?"

His grin turned icy. "There are no gods. You survived because I found you. If anything, I'm the closest thing to a god here."

Alaric couldn't ignore the weight of those words. He felt the crushing realization settle in. His father was dead. The Evernight God had abandoned them. No… Perhaps there had never been a god at all.

"Damn it…" Tears blurred his vision. "Father is gone…"

His sorrow twisted into something darker—rage. "Those bastard pirates… I'll kill them all!"

The old man extended his hand. "We may be pirates, but we have honor. We don't prey on merchants or the weak. If you want revenge… Join us. I promise you'll get your chance."

Alaric's thoughts were a storm, his faith shattered. He no longer believed in the Evernight God. All that remained was his burning hatred. Without fully realizing it, he grasped the old man's hand.

A firm handshake.

"Wise choice." The old man smirked. "Name's Connie Taleb. I'm the captain of the Dusk Raider. Welcome aboard."

Alaric's voice was quiet but firm. "Alaric Wolfe… I'll be in your care."

Julius, watching from the present, murmured to himself. "What a cruel irony… He became a pirate to kill pirates."

Now, he understood. Alaric's disdain for the gods. The wound left by his father's death.

He was no longer a man of faith. He relied only on himself.

But that was a problem. Julius needed his loyalty. He needed him to believe.

And if he succeeded… If he could make Alaric his… The power of the Forbidden Throne would soon be within reach.

Julius took a deep breath, then spoke with absolute conviction.

"Alaric Wolfe… I understand your doubts."

Alaric tensed. "How do you know my name?!"

A deep chuckle. "Who do you think I am?"

Julius stepped forward. "The Evernight God was false. That is why you lost faith. But I… am the only true god."

Alaric's breath hitched. "What…?"

A divine voice echoed through the celestial chamber.

"I am the forgotten god. The only god worthy of worship."

The statues behind Julius trembled. The very air itself seemed to bow before his presence.

"Alaric Wolfe. Leave your past behind. Unlike before, if you call upon my name… I will answer."

A thunderous decree shook the heavens.

"In my name—I, Zarathos, the Forsaken God—swear it."