THE OTHER SIDE
"Protect your brother." My mother's words echoed in my mind, haunting me with urgency. I couldn't find peace; worry gnawed at my insides.
"What if they get him? What if he's killed? It's been hours since he last took his medicine; he must be unwell." The thoughts spiraled relentlessly, each one more suffocating than the last.
I couldn't die yet—not now, not when I felt so powerless. Time slipped away from me, a vague blur, and despite the water's relentless grip, I fought to survive.
Then, without warning, the current ceased.
I opened my eyes, confusion mingling with curiosity. It took a moment to realize I was no longer being swept away. My feet felt the soft sand beneath the water, grounding me as I emerged onto a small shore.
The sky had turned a muted grey, streaks of saffron light filtering through the clouds. A thick fog hung in the air, slowly dissipating as the sounds of birds chirping heralded the dawn. But that wasn't my greatest concern. I scanned the unfamiliar landscape, desperate for any sign of the waterfall from which I had fallen.
There was no way to gauge how far I had been carried. Behind me, a narrow creek trickled softly, but I had to focus on finding my way back. With a surge of determination, I forced myself to my feet. My shoulder throbbed, a reminder of my recent ordeal, but it was a dull pain now, overshadowed by the flicker of hope that surged within me. My legs felt stronger, infused with a newfound energy, and I set off in search of a path.
"I need to go back," I thought, urgency propelling me forward. Yet, as I looked around, despair washed over me. The only cliff in sight loomed about four hundred meters high, a formidable barrier that formed a rounded arc. It felt like a dead end, a cruel twist of fate that threatened to swallow my resolve.
I stepped closer to the cliff's edge, scanning for any possible way up or around. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me, but I couldn't allow myself to falter. Suyang was out there, and I had to reach him. Each breath was a reminder of my purpose, a flicker of determination igniting my spirit.
"How do I go back?" I pondered, the question echoing in the silence around me. Just then, a strange sound broke through my thoughts—a faint trumpet-like call, distant yet compelling. I strained to pinpoint its source, but the notes seemed to dance in the air, elusive and intangible.
Was I imagining it? I wasn't sure if my mind was playing tricks on me, or if the fall had left me disoriented. Hunger gnawed at my insides, and the weight of survival pressed heavily upon me, blurring my senses.
A sudden chirping drew my gaze upward. I spotted two birds soaring gracefully above, and envy washed over me. They possessed wings, a freedom I longed for as I stood helplessly at the foot of the cliff. But then, something unusual caught my attention. Instead of continuing their ascent, the birds veered toward the creek, disappearing among the rocks, as if swallowed by the very earth.
The sound of voices drifted to me, indistinct yet inviting. My curiosity piqued, I approached the rocks, my heart racing. "Maybe there's a hidden path," I thought, reaching out to touch the surface. To my shock, my hand passed through as if the rocks were mere illusions. Fear gripped me, and I quickly withdrew, but a faint crimson glow emanated from the spot where I had touched, igniting a flicker of hope within me.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward again, tentatively pushing through the invisible barrier. The world shifted around me, and I emerged into a breathtaking landscape. The river faded from sight, replaced by a serene expanse of rolling hills and valleys. Six concentric hills rose before me, with a seventh, the tallest, standing proudly among them. Each hill bore clusters of houses, their maroon rooftops contrasting beautifully with crimson and golden walls that shimmered in the soft light.
I rubbed my eyes, convinced I was dreaming, yet the vibrant scene remained, bright and alive. The sound of trumpets grew clearer, resonating with a melodic urgency. Suddenly, six streaks of crimson light shot from the mountains, arcing gracefully toward me. I shielded my eyes as they descended, the brilliance almost blinding.
As the light dimmed, I beheld figures emerging—people clad in flowing red and golden robes, their small and androgynous forms exuding an otherworldly beauty. They approached with an ethereal grace, their flawless skin radiant and their features delicate. Black mascara accentuated their eyes, while intense red eyeshadow gave them an almost surreal allure. They were the most beautiful beings I had ever encountered, their presence both mesmerizing and unsettling.
"Who are you?" one of them demanded, his voice laced with intimidation. I remained silent, fear knotting in my stomach.
"He's already seen the barrier. There's no telling if he is a spy or not," another voiced his concern, suspicion hanging in the air.
"Let's kill him. Otherwise, how could you explain his presence here on such a sacred day?" Their whispers turned into harsh discussions, swords glinting ominously as they conjured them before me.
"I can't die here," I thought, panic rising within me. I took a hesitant step back, only to find myself pressed against a wall. The realization struck me—the invisible barrier had sealed me in the moment I crossed over.
"Please," I pleaded, desperation coloring my words. But one of the men, wielding an unsettling power, gripped me tightly. A crimson aura enveloped me, lifting me off the ground until I was eye-level with him.
"He's just a child," he said, his tone shifting slightly. "We cannot shed blood on this day. Let's take him back; the Chief will decide his fate." It was clear he was the leader, his cool demeanor contrasting with the tension among the others. Reluctantly, they complied, dragging me along as we soared back toward the hills.
From this height, the world below transformed into a miniature landscape. I could see people moving like ants, their lives unfolding beneath us, oblivious to my plight. We ascended toward the seventh peak, gliding toward one of the three tallest pagodas on the left. This one stood out, not because it was uninhabited but because it exuded an air of foreboding, darker than the others.
As we approached, I noticed a gathering outside the central pagoda. The men holding me murmured among themselves, "It seems the Convergence Ceremony is about to start." My curiosity piqued, but I masked it under a layer of caution. Unlike my captors, these others appeared sincere and calm, their energy less threatening, easing my fear, if only slightly.
We landed outside the left pagoda, and I understood why it was the darkest. It was not a place of worship but rather a military arsenal, its imposing structure brimming with weapons and armor. The air felt charged, heavy with an unspoken tension that hinted at the gravity of the events soon to unfold.
I halted in my footsteps, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. The men around me seemed to notice my hesitation.
"Something isn't right," I thought, a cold knot forming in my stomach. The one in the lead turned to face me, his expression unreadable.
"We can do nothing about you for now, but you aren't welcome here. Given the Vitality of the Convergence, we cannot risk leaving you loose, even though you are just a boy. Therefore, until the Ceremony is complete, you'll be detained." His words were blunt, devoid of compassion.
I took a couple of cautious steps back, but before I could react, one of the men moved with startling speed, positioning himself behind me. The swiftness of his motion sent a shiver down my spine.
"This is the Red Spear Commune, young boy. Do you really think you can outrun a couple of powerful warriors like us?" The leader's ghastly smile twisted his features, a blend of menace and amusement.
"No," I muttered under my breath, the weight of reality settling heavily upon me.
"Will you come in peace, or should I drag you into the dungeon myself?" He extended his right arm, an aura of scarlet energy dancing ominously in his palm. The sight of it left me feeling small and powerless.
A thirteen-year-old boy, ensnared in the midst of these highly skilled men—I had no options. I realized I couldn't go through the barrier again; I had nowhere to run.
"I'll come with you," I finally relented, my voice barely above a whisper.
"That's a good boy," he said, though his tone dripped with sarcasm. Yet, the sincerity of his smile unnerved me, revealing the complexity of his character—frightening yet strangely captivating.
They marched me toward the entrance of the pagoda. As we approached, the sky erupted in vibrant shades of red and yellow, the clouds twisting and swirling in a chaotic dance. The music from the other side grew louder, a rhythmic pulse that resonated deep within me. For a moment, we all stopped, captivated by the phenomenon unfolding above.
"It's the Divine Phenomenon," one of my captors murmured, his eyes wide with awe.
"The Convergence has begun," another asserted, a hint of reverence in his voice.
Their leader, with a sudden shift in demeanor, ordered us all onto our knees. "Bow your heads," he commanded, the gravity of the moment settling over us like a shroud.
I complied, kneeling in silence alongside the others, but a strange sensation began to blossom within my chest. My heart raced, each beat echoing with an urgency I couldn't understand. A wave of heat surged through me, and an uneasy feeling crept in, as if something was approaching.
I raised my eyes, curiosity overcoming my fear. Before me floated a faint figure, a woman shimmering with a golden essence, her presence radiant like the sun. The brilliance was almost blinding, forcing me to squint as I felt my eyes burn. Around me, the others began to cough, overwhelmed by the pressure that filled the air, their faces a mix of confusion and dread.
Suddenly, the woman condensed into what appeared to be a golden bone, drawing back a few paces and separating me from my captors. "What's going on?" I heard them murmur, but their words faded into the background as an intense surge of energy engulfed me. The golden bone melded into my body, and the pain that followed was excruciating. I cried out, tears streaming down my face, and as I squeezed my eyes shut, the agony finally ceased, forcing me to open them once again.
I found myself suspended above an endless sea, its waters dark and turbulent, matching the stormy skies that raged above. "What is this place?" I thought, fear mingling with bewilderment. Just then, a golden essence began to coalesce before me, taking shape as a gigantic woman. Unlike the ethereal figure I had seen moments before, she appeared lifelike, adorned in gleaming robes and a magnificent set of golden armor. A halo of light shone around her head, scattering the darkness over the sea, transforming the chaotic waters into a serene landscape reminiscent of a fairy tale.
"Saya?" she called my name, her voice both powerful and gentle, reverberating through the air.
Surprise washed over me, intertwining with fear. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling as I struggled to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before me. "What is this place?" I wanted to know everything—my whereabouts, the significance of this encounter, the purpose behind the golden essence that now filled my very being.
As I floated there, suspended between fear and wonder, the enormity of the moment settled upon me. I was caught in a liminal space, where reality blurred with the extraordinary, and I felt the weight of destiny pressing in around me.
"I am RAMA, THE SUPREME GODDESS OF WAR—or to be clearer, I am her Sacred Bone, a Divine rune and a fraction of her Primordial essence within the Mortal Realm." Her voice resonated with strength, a harmonious blend of many others, echoing through the vastness of my Inner World.
I was taken aback, startled by the gravity of her declaration. "The goddess of War?" My voice trembled as I struggled to grasp the reality of the situation.
"This here is your Inner World, your spiritual Conscience or Sea," she explained, her presence both overwhelming and comforting.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" I stammered, my mind racing with questions.
"I have chosen you as my host. To be clear, you are now my Avatar," she confirmed, each word sinking into me like stones thrown into still water. I felt a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, fear, and a flicker of something that resembled hope.
"Wait, how? This just can't be," I insisted, disbelief flooding my senses.
"Unless you die, this can't be undone," she assured me, her tone unwavering.
"I didn't ask for this," I protested, my voice rising with frustration.
"Why?" she asked, her expression one of calm scrutiny, as if she were weighing my soul. There was little concern etched upon her features, only an ancient wisdom that seemed to transcend my understanding.
"Perhaps it is the regrets that weigh heavy in your heart—those attachments that bind you. Is it your brother, whose whereabouts you do not know? Your mother, who was killed? Or your father, who may still be alive, unaware of what has befallen his family?" Her words pierced through me like arrows, striking at the very core of my fears.
"How...?" I stuttered, grappling with the depths of her insight.
"The moment the Divine Bone Rune fused with your body, all your memories were unlocked to me," she informed me, her voice steady and matter-of-fact.
"You didn't even ask my permission first," I retorted, a flicker of defiance igniting within me.
"Did the men who destroyed your family ask your permission first?" she inquired sharply, and my protests faltered, leaving me momentarily speechless.
"You seek someone to blame. This is the nature of all mortals—you crave power but cannot bear the responsibility that comes with it. This is your identity. If you feel guilt, it is because you could not protect those you love. This is your sense of duty and emotional attachment. Regardless of your age, you fear the thought of anything slipping from your grasp," she asserted, her words resonating within the hollow of my chest.
Overwhelmed by the weight of her truth, I fell to my knees, the ground beneath me cool and unyielding. The enormity of my situation bore down upon me, and I felt the tears I had held back begin to spill, mixing with the essence of my surroundings. In that moment of vulnerability, I confronted the tangled web of my emotions—the loss, the longing, the fierce desire to protect those I cherished.
"Stop reading my thoughts," I protested, my voice shaky with a mix of defiance and vulnerability.
"Why?" she replied, her gaze steady, unyielding.
"Enough," I insisted, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
"What about your brother? What about the world?" she pressed on, her words slicing through my defenses like a blade. "Is he still waiting for you in that dark, filthy tree trunk? Is he scared? Did he even see the morning, or was he found?" Each question felt like a weight, dragging me deeper into a chasm of guilt and fear.
"Stop," I whispered, my heart pounding.
"You are right; you are not strong," she acknowledged, her tone softening slightly. "But unlike all the other things and people in this world, I am offering you a chance to become stronger." I looked up at her, the flicker of hope battling against the shadows of despair within me.
"Why?" I asked, the question hanging in the air like a fragile thread.
"Why do you think so?" she countered, her eyes piercing through my uncertainty. Tears began to form, blurring my vision, and I bowed my head again, unable to articulate the turmoil within me.
"This world is polluted with dark matter, wrecked by chaos," Rama declared, her voice a clarion call amidst the chaos. "Dark and demonic materials, not belonging to this realm, are scattered about, drawing power from its natural core and supplying it to devils."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, confusion swirling like a storm inside me.
"How much do you know about the Demon Pillars?" she inquired, and for a moment, I felt overwhelmed, as if the very ground beneath me had shifted.
"Not much," I admitted, my voice a mere whisper.
"Humans have been taught to fight and destroy the 99 Demon Pillars for the last 10,000 years. It might sound like an easy feat, but it isn't. It requires immense power, and the pillars themselves are made of otherworldly materials. Over the last 10,000 years, only 33 have collapsed. So, how long do you think it will take to destroy the remaining 66?" Her words painted a grim picture of the struggle ahead.
"About 20,000 more years," I replied, the math echoing in my mind like a death knell.
"But if a single Divine Bone Rune containing the Primordial essence of an Original God is this powerful, what of 66 of an Original Devil?" she asked, her voice low and filled with a gravity that sent chills down my spine.
The enormity of her statement settled heavily upon me. I felt a dull ache in my chest, the realization of the stakes weighing down on my spirit. In this moment, the battle was not just against the demons outside but also against the darkness within—my fears, my regrets, and the haunting uncertainty of my brother's fate.
I stood at a crossroads, the path ahead shrouded in shadows, yet the light of possibility flickered faintly in the distance.
"You want me to destroy the Demon Pillars?" I asked, disbelief tinging my voice.
"Your predecessors, and perhaps all of mankind, are united in that effort," she replied, her tone grave. "But even if you gathered the entire world, 20,000 years is far too long for a mortal. In the vast universe, it is merely a blink of an eye—a tiny wrinkle in time, insignificant. Time is a luxury the human race does not possess, especially if there is only one Demon Pillar left standing." Concern flickered in her eyes, deepening the weight of her words.
"I know something will happen," I murmured, a sense of foreboding wrapping around my heart like a vine.
"A couple of years from now, the universe will witness a Cosmic Phenomenon known as the GRAND FUSION," she continued, her voice steady yet laced with urgency. "This event occurs once every 100,000 years, converging different worlds and timelines to facilitate the uniform flow of cosmic energy through all living things in the universe. If even one of those 66 Demon Pillars remains, and it manages to channel that vast energy, then the Demon Patriarch will rise again." The gravity of her assurance struck me like a thunderclap, reverberating through my very being.
"In just a couple of years, I'm supposed to destroy 66 Demon Pillars?" My voice trembled, the enormity of the task before me crashing down like a tidal wave.
"Because you are different from all the others," she asserted, her gaze piercing through my uncertainty.
"How so?" I pressed, yearning for clarity amidst the chaos swirling in my mind.
"With the Perfect Halo, born from the tear of the Heavenly Dragon, and the Divine Rune, you won't just be a normal superhuman in this world. You will be more like a demigod. Once you unlock the secrets of the power you can wield, you will transcend the limits of all things." Her words hung in the air, a promise and a burden intertwined, before she vanished, leaving me in a void of silence.
The pain that had been momentarily lifted returned to my chest, sharp and insistent, as if reminding me of my mortal fragility. A brilliant beam that had coursed through me suddenly flickered and faded, leaving behind a profound emptiness.
Time, which had seemed suspended, resumed its relentless march. I found myself surrounded by other cultivators, their eyes wide with curiosity and caution. Whispers filled the air, swirling around me like leaves caught in a whirlwind.
"What's going on?" I managed to ask, my voice hoarse.
"Who is he?" one of them murmured, their gaze fixed on me with a mix of awe and skepticism.
"Did the goddess just choose him?" another voice questioned, eyes darting between me and the others, as if trying to decipher the magnitude of what had just unfolded.
As I slowly descended to the ground, the weight of their stares settled upon my shoulders. I felt like a fragile vessel amidst a storm, unsteady yet determined. The knowledge of my new reality coursed through me, a flicker of hope battling against the shadows of doubt.
Another group landed before me, their presence commanding and serene. They were likely the Seniors of the Commune, and despite their age, an otherworldly beauty surrounded them. For a brief moment, I felt disoriented, as if I were in a dream where reality blurred with fantasy, and I might have mistaken them for ethereal women.
"Grandmaster?" my captors offered their respectful salutation to a white-haired figure who seemed too youthful for such a title, his eyes sharp and assessing.
"What's this?" he asked, his voice steady, yet carrying an undercurrent of authority.
"Forgive us, we were only taking him to the dungeons," the leader reported, his tone tinged with unease.
"Where did you get him?" the Grandmaster inquired, his gaze piercing through the tension.
"He walked through the barrier," the leader replied, and an audible gasp swept through the gathered crowd, their shock palpable.
"And the formation wasn't activated?" the Grandmaster pressed, his brow furrowing in concern.
"Yes," they assured him, and the murmurs of disbelief rippled through the onlookers. The Grandmaster turned his attention to me, his eyes narrowing, searching for the truth.
"Is it true?" he demanded, his voice firm.
"Yes," I responded, my heart racing. The weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, and I felt as though I were standing on the edge of an abyss.
"How is he still in one piece?" the others murmured among themselves, their astonishment palpable.
"No normal human can walk through millions of calories of electricity and not be harmed," I overheard someone mutter, but the old man, keenly observing me, remained momentarily silent, his expression contemplative.
"Bring me the FORTE CALCULATOR," he finally ordered, a sense of urgency in his voice. Three of the other masters behind him took flight, their movements fluid and graceful. They cast intricate spells, and from the ether, an imposing bronze pillar took form—a towering obelisk, approximately ten feet tall. They lowered it reverently in front of me, the air around it shimmering with latent energy.
"Touch it," the Grandmaster commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Hesitantly, I complied, fear coursing through me like electricity. It seemed the only way to ease the palpable tension that had settled over the compound like a heavy fog. As my fingers brushed against the cold surface of the obelisk, a jolt of energy surged through me, igniting every nerve ending.
While I stood there, utterly unaware of the mechanics behind its operation, a wave of curiosity washed over me. Too many eyes were fixed on me, and I felt the weight of their expectations pressing down like a heavy fog. Just as I began to doubt myself, the obelisk began to glow. Energy surged from its foot, spiraling upwards until it illuminated the entire structure, shining blindingly bright. When I finally withdrew my hand, the crowd was awed into silence, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and wonder.
"It's 100 points," one voice broke through the stillness, barely above a whisper.
"It can't be," another responded, incredulous.
"For the first time ever," someone else added, the excitement palpable in their voice.
"This is totally unheard of," came another whisper, as if uttering the words too loudly might shatter the moment.
"I thought they were myths," echoed through the throng, each voice reflecting the mounting astonishment.
"A perfect Halo," the Grandmaster declared, and I felt a shock ripple through me. At that moment, disbelief coursed through my veins like ice.
"Impossible," I thought, grappling with the implications of what had just occurred.
"But I am a Sin Blood Clan Descendant," I insisted, my voice trembling with uncertainty.
The Grandmaster snapped his fingers, and in an instant, we were transported to a dark room. There, illuminated by an ethereal glow, stood a 100-foot-tall statue of the goddess of War, her right hand gripping a sword, while her left cradled a flame that flickered with hints of lightning.
"What's going on?" I asked, confusion swirling within me like a tempest.
"You drank the Heavenly Dragon Tear?" he questioned, his voice steady and probing.
"No…" I began, but then a memory struck me, sharp and vivid—the droplet Old Man Dan had given me the previous day, a gift wrapped in mystery.
"Does anything come to mind?" he pressed, his gaze unyielding. I fell silent, the weight of realization dawning upon me.
"I guess so," he continued, unfazed. He walked towards the statue, his movements deliberate. "Except for a true God Descendant, the only way a pure mortal can gain the attribute of the Perfect Halo, the 100 Point primordial forte, is to swallow the Tear of the Heavenly Dragon. This dragon is the mother and father of all beasts, the one who shed its scales to spew the stars into existence and bled to give birth to the Original Gods who created the world."
His words hung in the air, heavy with significance. Each syllable resonated within me, awakening a sense of purpose I had never known. The reality of my situation began to crystallize—this was not merely a stroke of luck or a fluke of fate. I had been chosen, thrust into a role far beyond my understanding.
I was trying my hardest to grasp the enormity of what was unfolding around me, but the weight of it all felt nearly overwhelming. The revelations came crashing in waves, each one more staggering than the last.
"Is this why the Divine Bone Rune of the goddess of War fused with me?" I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty.
"She chooses the strongest bodies and the most perfect of a generation to create the mightiest mortal warrior," the Grandmaster replied, his tone solemn. "But it is not solely for that reason. By choosing you, it means you are her avatar, and you must carry out her mission to destroy the Demonic Pillars."
"She already told me," I admitted, feeling a mix of fear and determination swell within me.
"I see," he responded, a glimmer of understanding crossing his features.
"What about the Cardinal Clans, though?" My curiosity pushed through the fog of my confusion. "What is their role in all this?"
"Nearly 7,000 years ago, our Grand Progenitor gained the Divine Bone Rune of the goddess in this very place during an expedition in the Outlands. The authorities of the Red Phoenix Sect felt particularly offended by his newfound influence and grew wary of his power. To avoid a civil war, he defected from the Sect with a handful of his followers and moved here. They activated the protective barrier to keep this place hidden from the other sects and communes. While we maintain limited contact with the outside world, all the men here train their entire lives to be part of the Great Cause and to protect the Divine Bone Rune from falling into the wrong hands."
"You make it sound like something one can easily possess, yet given my recent experience, it doesn't seem that way," I pointed out, my voice tinged with skepticism.
"The host of the Divine Bone Rune might be invincible," the Grandmaster explained, "but their mortal nature renders them susceptible to harm and death. If a host dies within seven months, another must be chosen. Otherwise, the Rune will lose its divine power and be reduced to a mere artifact, its primordial essence scattering into the ether."
His words sent a chill through me. The stakes were impossibly high.
"All Divine Runes survive in the Mortal Realm symbiotically, including the Demonic Pillars. Just as the five elements of the War Goddess are nurtured and strengthened by the activity of mortal practitioners, the Pillars feed on and corrupt both mortals and wandering souls to remain alive and active. If they go without a supply or protection for more than seven months, they weaken and ultimately perish."
"So the fight between mankind is with demon hosts?" I was startled, the realization washing over me like a cold wave. Suddenly, everything began to make sense. I recalled the times when my father returned home, bruised and battered, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. The fact that no one ever talked about it, that we were always shielded from such grim realities, struck me like a lightning bolt. Our parents and other martial practitioners weren't merely facing the pillars; they were battling against those who had lost their spiritual conscience, individuals transformed into demons and zombies.
"That's always been the real war?" I muttered, grappling with this newfound understanding.
"Yes," the Grandmaster confirmed, his voice low and steady. "The border was established to protect the uncorrupted. But as long as the pillars stand, armies of turned humans and the fallen will do whatever they can to protect them. While we fight this battle, you must come to terms with the fact that from the moment you fused with the Divine Bone Rune—an honor that could have gone to anyone else—you have a duty to everyone in this Commune and the world at large. You will be trained to become the finest warrior."
His gaze was unwavering, and I felt the weight of his words settle like a mantle on my shoulders. The enormity of my responsibility loomed large, and I felt both honored and terrified.
"I want to find my brother first," I asserted, the urgency of my desire pulsing in my veins.
"That's not up to you to decide," the Grandmaster replied, his tone firm and unyielding.
"You can't say that." My voice rose, tinged with frustration and desperation.
"You can leave this place if you wish," he said, holding my gaze with a seriousness that pierced through my defiance. "But do you honestly think you're safe in the outside world? People are determined to kill you. Practitioners stronger than you can possibly imagine will envy your perfect Halo. They would kill you to extract it. And as a thirteen-year-old boy, what have you truly learned to defend yourself? Are you sure you won't lose again?"
His words struck deep, echoing the fears I had buried within me. Images of my brother flashed in my mind—his laughter, his warmth, the bond we shared—now overshadowed by uncertainty. The thought of losing him, of being unable to protect him, ignited a flicker of despair within me.
Yet beneath that despair, another feeling began to stir—a determination that refused to be extinguished. I had been thrust into a world of peril and responsibility, but I couldn't let fear dictate my path. I had to find a way to balance my duty to this Commune and the burning desire to reunite with my brother.
"I understand the risks," I said, my voice steadier now. "But I can't abandon my brother. I need to know he's safe."
The Grandmaster regarded me with a mix of concern and respect. "Your heart is noble, but you must also understand that strength lies not just in wanting to protect, but in the ability to do so. Training will prepare you, but you must also learn patience and strategy. Only then can you hope to face the darkness that awaits."
"And what can you offer?" I asked, my voice laced with defiance. "I care less about this Commune."
"And what about a world for your brother to live in?" he countered, his gaze steady and piercing. "We have the resources—numbers to protect, to search, to hunt, to fight. We can avenge the grievances of our own. Or I could kill you this instant, eliminate the trouble you pose, take your perfect Halo, and ensure that the Divine Bone Rune goes to its intended candidate. But I'm sure you've figured out by now that I have done nothing but protect you." His blunt words hung in the air, heavy with implications.
He was right, and I knew it too. Even with the Divine Bone Rune and the Perfect Halo coursing through me, I was still a child—vulnerable and untrained. I couldn't fight, couldn't defend myself; the least I could do was die, a thought that gnawed at my insides.
"What if I am willing to do as you tell me and train to become stronger? Will you help me search for my brother?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
"Provided you have a location, we can search," he replied, his tone pragmatic. "It doesn't matter how long it takes. But you should understand that there are no free favors in the pugilistic world. These people will put themselves on the line for you, but we are all men in this sect, and our patience is thin. What we understand best is fear, and anything can happen to you at any time. This is why you must prove to them that you are worthy of their protection and loyalty."
His words resonated deeply within me, a stark reminder of the stakes involved. The weight of my circumstances pressed heavily on my shoulders, a burden I had to bear if I were to find my brother.
"I'll do it," I resolved, determination igniting a fire within.
"I can't hear you," he prompted, a flicker of challenge in his eyes.
"I said I'll train. I'll fight if I have to. I'll kill if I must. Just help me find my brother!" The words erupted from me, raw and fierce, as I fell to my knees, the weight of my emotions crashing down like a tidal wave. The old man regarded me, a hint of satisfaction crossing his features.
"I like your determination," he said, his voice softening. "I'll have you settled in. Once all the preparations are done, after tomorrow you'll meet your master, Wiman. He will help you train within these seven hills to become a formidable warrior."
As he turned to leave, I remained in the shrine, staring at the statue of the goddess of War. The intricate details of her form shimmered in the dim light, a reminder of the power and strength I longed to embody.
"I'll do this," I whispered to myself, a mantra against the rising tide of doubt. "I'll become stronger, and I'll find you, Suyang." Each repetition was an attempt to convince myself, even as my courage waned like the flickering flame of a candle in the wind.
It had only been two days, yet so much had transpired in that brief span. My past, once uneventful and marked by the rhythms of a normal life—family dinners, school days, laughter shared—now felt like a distant memory. I was coming to terms with a harsh reality: my life would never be normal again.
The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders, pressing down with an intensity I had never known. It was frustrating, this new burden of expectation. I found myself grappling with a swirl of emotions—resentment, fear, and an almost suffocating sense of loss. I recalled the moment I had approached Old Man Dan, my heart pounding as I stood up to those bullies. That small act of bravery had propelled me into a whirlwind of chaos, leading to the most gruesome experience of being torn away from my loved ones.
In the depths of my mind, I might have hated myself for that decision, for the consequences it had unleashed. I longed to be angry, to rage against the unfairness of it all, but the courage to express that anger eluded me. Instead, I clung to hope—a fragile thread, yet the only anchor I had in this storm.
I hoped fervently that my brother would be found, that he was safe somewhere out there, and that our paths would cross again. I hoped hard enough to drown out the fear that whispered in the corners of my mind, the fear of the monstrous world that awaited me. Each hope felt like a tiny spark in the darkness, lighting the way forward, urging me to press on.
As I closed my eyes, I could almost envision Suyang's smile, the way it lit up his face, the warmth of his laughter echoing in my heart. That image became my fuel, the driving force behind my resolve. I could not allow despair to consume me; I would forge ahead, step by step, no matter how daunting the journey seemed.