The night had grown deeper,colder.
In the highlands where moonlight dared not linger, the stars shimmered faintly behind tattered clouds. The land of Thal'mire breathed quietly under a veil of fog, and the wind howled like a mourning spirit across the jagged rocks and broken pillars of olden ruins.
The ancient ruins of Or'dhakar stood silent, whispering stories lost to time—its moss-ridden stones still radiating the remnants of forgotten power.
Tovan shivered. Not from the cold—but from the pressure that clung to the world like thick smoke.
They had found him.
The man they had long searched for.
"There," Tovan muttered, nudging Renil beside him. "Go. Ask him."
Renil's eyes widened. "Why me?"
Tovan turned. "Why me?"
Renil shot a glance at the tall figure standing still among the shadows, unmoving like a statue carved from night itself.
"You're bronze-skinned," Renil whispered. "Maybe he'll think you're from Cindralith. Maybe... he won't kill you right away."
Tovan narrowed his eyes. "You think? You're the one who begged to come here just to see him!"
Renil hugged himself tighter. "That pressure... it's like if I get closer, I'll just die and not even realize it..."
But then—they both froze.
The figure was gone.
Tovan blinked. "Where—"
"He probably went ins—" Renil began.
A sudden wave of killing intent slammed into them like a crashing tide. The air grew heavy, impossible to breathe. Their instincts screamed.
Slowly, both boys turned.
The man was behind them.
Tall. Broad. Cloaked in silence darker than shadow. His thick beard and long black hair moved slightly in the wind. His brown skin was rough like sanded stone, but it was the eyes that pinned them in place—deep, ancient, terrifying. The eyes of a killer. The eyes of someone who had seen kings kneel and gods bleed.
Tovan couldn't move.
The man's gaze locked onto Renil—and in a flash, his massive hand gripped Renil's collar and lifted him with one arm like a child's toy. (His garment wasn't quite a polo—it was called a Keshvar, a traditional loose shirt with layered folds and thin belts woven from animal hide.)
Renil dangled above the ground, feet no longer touching earth. His breath caught.
Then, the man spoke.
"What is a royal-blood like you doing here?"
His voice was deep—calm, yet dangerous. Like thunder muffled beneath a mountain.
Renil stammered, "I—I'm... I'm an orphan, sir."
The man's lips curled into a humorless chuckle. His hand reached up and pulled back Renil's brown hair, revealing the fine cloth tied around his head—a Velan silk, only used by nobles or ancient priesthoods.
"An orphan... with this?"
Renil's voice cracked. "It... it was with me when I was left at the orphanage..."
The man stared deeply, almost as if trying to read his soul.
Then, without a word, he let Renil fall.
Renil hit the ground with a thud, gasping.
The man turned to leave.
But Renil, summoning courage he barely had, cried out, "S-Sir... are you an Othurak?"
The man stopped.
Without turning, his hand lashed out, grabbing Renil again and lifting him.
"I don't like that word," he said. Quiet. Cold. But fury boiled beneath his voice.
The pressure around them surged—stronger than before. The world seemed to warp under it.
Tovan staggered.
And then—a flash of memory. That same pressure. That same choking aura.
The night his village burned. The night his family died. The being that stood over the ashes—it felt just like this.
This man... was power. Not just strength—but the kind of power that could end worlds.
And if he wanted revenge... if he wanted to face the 13 Aeclipsar...
Then this was the first step.
Tovan didn't think.
He dropped to his knees.
Pressed his forehead to the cracked stone.
And shouted, "Please, make me your disciple! I'll do anything!"
Renil's eyes widened in shock.
The air grew even heavier.
The man's gaze shifted to Tovan, the pressure enough to crush bone. But Tovan... smiled. It wasn't madness. It was certainty. He had finally found the path.
The man's voice rumbled.
"Why should I teach you, boy?"
Tovan lifted his head slowly, blood dripping from his nose, his body trembling—but his voice was clear.
"I want to kill all 13 Aeclipsar."
Silence.
Renil's heart nearly stopped. He's insane, he thought. Completely mad...
But then—
The man let go of Renil.
And laughed.
A loud, terrible laugh that echoed through the ruins. The very earth trembled, the stones cracked beneath his amusement.
Even his laughter had power.
Renil stared in awe—and fear.
Finally, the man spoke again. "I like you, brat."
He stepped closer.
"I'll make you my disciple. But first—"
His tone darkened. "Let's see if you're truly worthy."
Tovan met his gaze with fire in his eyes.
"I'll accept any task."
The wind howled.
The stars blinked behind torn clouds.
And somewhere far away... destiny shifted.