A black shadow loomed, stretching across the walls of the cavern as the heart-rumbling echoes shook the depths. The chains rattled endlessly, soldiers bound in misery, their lifeless eyes staring into the void. A mesmerizing death lingered in the air. What was this place? What was happening?
The echo traveled again, and somewhere in the silence, a drop of water fell. Plop. The sound rippled into the darkness, followed by another thunderous heart-rumble. A fire blazed—heavy, consuming, burning with a wrath unknown.
Then came a voice. Fear me. The unknown voice sent tremors into the air. Birds above the surface scattered, fleeing from the doom that lurked below. Humanity's tortured cries echoed through the underground. An unknown species, monstrous and alien, stared at the chained humans—suffering, starving, broken by endless torment.
Again, a heavy footstep crashed onto the ground. Thud. Thud. The weight of a coming storm. A threat that suffocated the air. A sight of death itself engraved on chained blades. And there he stood—one of the most powerful children among the children of Xeudeus. His name was whispered like a curse: Grimlock.
But Grimlock paused. He felt something. A strong presence. His sharp eyes turned, locking onto the darkness. Someone was there. Someone walking.
Footsteps echoed. Deep down within the earth, a figure emerged—ferocious, unyielding, each step carried purpose. He walked as though the ground itself bent to his will. Slowly, he drew his sword, the steel singing in hunger.
Grimlock made a face of disdain. In an instant, he vanished from sight—moving at a speed no human eye could follow. But the man didn't flinch. Calmly, almost lazily, he turned. From the corner of his right eye, he struck back.
But Grimlock's smirk faded. In a flash, the man's hand gripped his face with overwhelming force, and with a swift motion, he slammed Grimlock onto his own throne. The rocks cracked, the cavern quaked—Boom echoed through the depths.
The man's voice cut through the silence:
"You cannot beat me, weak."
Grimlock stood, brushing off the dust, smirking despite the pain.
"Well, well, well… finally, someone strong."
In a blur, he rushed forward, blades flashing with fury. But to the man, time itself seemed to pause. He stepped aside, countered effortlessly, and with precision, tapped Grimlock's stomach three times from different angles. As reality snapped back, a bright flash burst forth, and a bolt of lightning knocked Grimlock to the ground.
Dazed, almost fainting, Grimlock lifted his gaze. And then… he saw it. Evil. A well of pure, unending evil—capable of destroying everything.
His voice quivered. "What's… what's your name?"
The man crouched low, one hand on the ground, the other gripping Grimlock's face. His eyes glowed a deathly red, radiating raw power.
"They call me… Zeiris. And that's what you should do." His tone was gentle yet killing, a whisper that stabbed like a blade.
Zeiris tilted his head, studying Grimlock with disgust.
"You pathetic shit. Look at you. So weak. I didn't even try to knock you down. How can you be the child of Xeudeus? Tell me."
Grimlock's smirk faltered. His voice dropped.
"Master is dead. Norm killed him… and we all grew weak."
Zeiris straightened, his white-and-red coat glowing under the dim firelight. A smile tugged at his lips.
"A huge disappointment, I see. But why haven't you gone to sleep like the rest?"
"I had… reasons to stay alive," Grimlock muttered.
"Reasons, you say?" Zeiris chuckled darkly. "You can die right now, and yet you think your worth is needed?" His face twisted into a mocking smirk.
Grimlock clenched his fists. "Remember this—when I regain my full power, I will kill you."
Zeiris laughed, his voice echoing through the cavern like thunder. But then, silence fell. His laughter turned into a serious, cold stare.
"Indeed… I will be waiting. But tell me—where is Lyoth?"
Grimlock hesitated. "I don't know. He vanished. Probably hiding… like the rest of us."
"Norm scared you that much?" Zeiris leaned in.
Grimlock snarled. "Huh! Can you fight him? Tell me!"
Zeiris smirked faintly. "I can't… but I have plans." His gaze drifted toward the cavern's exit.
Grimlock's eyes followed him, narrowing.
"Wait," Zeiris's voice rang again. "Didn't you just lose? How about I send you to sleep, so you can join our master in death, and when he returns… you'll come back with him?"
Grimlock's eyes widened. "No! No, you can't do this to me! We are children of Xeudeus!"
But then he saw it—the unshakable, terrible ego burning in Zeiris's eyes.
"You are weak. You cannot be the child of our master Xeudeus. I renounce you." Zeiris placed his right hand over Grimlock. A sudden outburst of energy erupted, the cavern shook, a flash brighter than fire consumed the chamber.
Boom!
Zeiris stood, exhaling. "I don't really have work right now… and you will never understand me." His voice dropped into a whisper as he walked away. His eyes glowed with rage.
"This Norm… I have to do something about him."
PRESENT
Aron woke up. Another calm day. He quickly rose from his bed, put on his clothes, and grabbed his tools. Today was important—the day to place the rice seeds so the crops could grow strong. Outside, the cold breath of winter loomed across the valley.
Walking toward the field, Aron's eyes widened. The first green sprouts had broken through the soil. A smile stretched across his face as he ran forward, diving into the field with joy. "LET'S GOOO!"
Laughter echoed as Carlos joined him.
"Finally, man!" Carlos said, his eyes shining. "It's all our hard work!"
The land they had worked so hard to fix was covered with small, tender plants. The sight was beautiful—a glimpse of hope, of life reborn.
From afar, a figure approached. Mr. Wood, with his usual firm stride, came toward them.
"Good job, boys," Wood said with pride. "You nailed it. There's a lot more work ahead, but this proves the land is fixable. Now listen, winter is coming fast. We'll need to grow rice fields not just here, but on my land as well."
Both Aron and Carlos nodded eagerly. Together they began cutting trees, clearing brush, and preparing the soil. They worked with sweat and grit, placing the rice seeds carefully.
By dusk, Mr. Wood raised his hand. "I think I've pushed you too far for today. Cut it out, enjoy your time."
They nodded, smiling. A small baby goat trotted toward them, bleating happily.
"He's growing well," Wood said with a rare smile.
All three laughed, their voices mixing with the fading light.
As the sky darkened, Carlos waved goodbye and left for home. But as Aron turned to leave, Mr. Wood stopped him.
"Wait, Aron. I need to tell you something."
Aron tilted his head. "Yes, sir?"
Wood's face grew serious. "The Black Sun Tournament of Swordsmanship will commence in two years. How old are you now?"
Aron straightened proudly. "I just turned fourteen… last week."
Wood nodded. "Then two years from now, you'll be ready. You already know much about swordsmanship. Be prepared, my son. And when the time comes, we'll get you good armor."
Aron's eyes lit up. "Yes, sir!" He bowed slightly and headed to his room, filled with new determination.
Wood entered the house as well, his tired body sinking into rest. But in his heart, he knew the world was shifting again. Darkness was stirring.
And Aron's journey… was just beginning.