—Not so fast, boy— said the man, and with a single motion, he hurled him through the air as if he were made of paper.
BOOM!
The impact rang out with a dry crack as Blez smashed part of the ceiling, flying like a shadow through the ruins.
The detonator slipped from his hands. Zaara saw it fall, her heart sinking. The whistle of the object through the air seemed to slow time itself.
—You! —Guler shouted at the girl—. Go! Warn the king! Evacuate the temple, now!
Zaara hesitated. She looked at Blez. Her heart was breaking. But she nodded, her eyes glassy, and ran, the echo of her steps fading among the rubble.
The rumble of the ground beneath her feet mixed with the distant roar of falling stone.
Blez rose from the debris as if nothing had happened, dust swirling around him like a living shadow. He coughed. The air tasted of ash. His eyes darted, searching desperately for the artifact.
But Guler appeared again. With a sharp roar, he struck with such force that Blez crashed through two stone walls, tearing bricks and dust in his path.
CRASH!
—It's over— Guler said proudly, his voice rumbling like contained thunder—. You're just a boy. I don't know your reasons, but this ends here.
He stepped toward the detonator. As he bent down to pick it up… it vanished.
A split second later, a brutal blow struck his chest. A dry, crushing force sent him slamming into the walls of the collapsing building like a human arrow.
THUD!
—What the hell…?— he managed to think, breathless.
With a swift turn in midair, Blez slipped between the floating remains of the temple. Fallen columns and shattered statues became obstacles he weaved through with ghostly grace.
His fingers closed around the artifact just before it touched the ground.
—Rule number one for a warrior: never underestimate your opponent.
—But how?! —Guler thought, stunned—. No one survives a hit like that…! Who are you?
Blez shut his eyes for a moment. The image of his parents, pierced by that spear, tore at him. The cold face of the king signing execution orders. Everything he had lost… now stood before him.
—Evil always finds its way to men— he whispered.
And he activated it.
Light swallowed everything. It was as if the sun itself had descended into the heart of the temple. A rising hum built up to a muffled, vibrating explosion that shook the ground's very foundations.
KABOOM!
—What kind of monster is this boy…?— was Guler's last thought before the wave of fire and light consumed him.
It was some time before the first reports of the attack came in. Authorities spoke of a massive explosion, but—surprisingly—casualties were few. It seemed the intent hadn't been to kill, but to destroy.
Wounded but alive, Guler staggered through the wreckage. The air smelled of ash, molten metal, and blood.
His only question was for the king.
—Your Majesty…?— he muttered through coughs, but found only silence.
Zaara crossed his path. Her face was smeared with soot, her eyes swollen from crying.
—Sir, are you alright?
—I think so… Where is the king?
—Safe. But… the Viceroy and Minister Cuz are dead.
—Who was the boy behind all this? I know you know him.
Zaara lowered her gaze.
—Yes, sir— she said softly, ashamed—. His name is Blez Kisura.
—Don't stray far. I'll question you myself— Guler said in a grave tone, walking away with a strange heaviness in his soul.
Later, in the corridors of the headquarters, Zaara explained to Nael that the one behind the attack was none other than her childhood friend.
Nael's face tightened at the cutting news. She told him how Blez had changed in an instant—how his face had darkened—how he seemed consumed by vengeance that had devoured his very soul.
—I don't believe it. It's impossible!— Nael burst out, the weight pressing on his chest.
—I saw it myself— Zaara replied, her voice tangled with conflicting emotions.
The bustle of soldiers filled the air, while the public's unrest exploded into a storm of unanswered questions.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the ocean, Blez lay on a small raft. Saltwater licked at his open wounds. His body was coated in dried blood, ash, and burns.
The explosion had caught him, and Guler's blows had left him weakened.
SPLASH.
—Mother… Father… my people… I did it— he whispered to the starry sky, where neither sun nor moon judged him.
His body trembled—not just from the physical toll, but from the emotional weight he carried.
—So this is what it feels like… to face a Guardian of the Supreme Guard— he smirked faintly, his breath mixing with the salty breeze.
He knew he had to recover. They would come for him.
On the island, the king mourned the deaths of the Viceroy, Minister Cuz, and the other victims. The city lay in ruins. Troops gathered bodies and cleared debris. The air reeked of loss.
Guler wondered how so many had survived.
—There's only one explanation— he murmured—. The boy used that technique…
The thought hit him like a memory reborn.
—He didn't just harden his own body… he did the same for many inside the blast radius. Who the hell is that boy?
A chilling idea struck him: Blez had the power to kill them all… but chose not to.
He went straight to the Southern District's garrison, where the boy's squad was stationed.
—Commander— he greeted curtly.
—Sir Guler— the commander replied, still shaken by the devastation.
—Do you know the one responsible for this atrocity?
—Yes, sir. He was a member of my squad. I'm devastated… I never saw it coming. He seemed so… harmless.
—It wasn't your fault. Some things can't be foreseen. Tell me, how was he usually regarded?
—He showed little of his personality. Quiet. Reserved. Not particularly gifted as a soldier. The only notable thing was his refusal to give up… and his desire to protect his comrades. In the last war, he was crucial in saving lives.
—You say he wasn't skilled… What do you mean?
—He didn't excel in weapons or close combat. No special talents. Honestly, we never thought he had a future in the army.
Guler frowned.
—I don't think we're talking about the same boy. The Blez I fought could join the Royal Guard. He's been pretending all this time. I want you to dig into his real origins.
—Understood, sir. According to our records, he was an orphan.
—Check the archives. I think his entire record is fake. And if I'm right… I know who his father was. Bring me a full report.
—At once.
The man rushed out, eager to fulfill the Supreme's orders.