Chapter 3
Sleeping Dragon
'Damn… damn… damn…'
With a restless mind and countless dark thoughts, Einver left Void's body sprawled on the ground and dashed with all his strength toward his home.
His heart pounded violently, his blood boiled within him as though all the demons of the world had been unleashed into his chest.
The Amarians Clan…
The members of that clan harbored an indescribable hatred toward the Narin family, yet their fear of them surpassed their hatred.
For everyone knew of the Narin family's devastating wrath.
No one—no sane man—would dare to provoke a sleeping dragon that had withdrawn from the battlefield into its lofty nest.
That was why, even though only two members of the Narin clan remained, the Amarians never dared to make a move against them.
Their last attempt dated back many years, when they sent fifty men to assassinate Alexander Narin, Arthur Narin's father…
But those fifty men fell within moments, crushed like pitiful flies before Alexander's blazing fury.
After that incident, Alexander mysteriously died in circumstances unknown to this very day, leaving his son Arthur Narin all alone.
And Arthur… after his father's death, vanished from this world entirely.
Years later, he returned from nothingness, carving for himself a name that shook the pillars of the earth:
The Worst Death King.
His power was something unimaginable, so extraordinary it defied human comprehension.
Because of his existence—and because of the existence of the organization known as The Universe—the Amarians never moved.
That organization had been founded by a boy named Starroth.
Some time later, a filthy plan woven by the Amarians unfolded. Arthur fell into a trap of rage and hallucination… and killed his own brother with his own hands.
On that dreamy moonlit night…
The Amarians sent three hundred men to kill Arthur.
The astonishing part was that Arthur slaughtered half of them with nothing but his bare hands.
And when he reached his final limit, he detonated himself along with the remaining men, sending them all to the ninety-ninth hell in a single instant.
After that event, the Amarians began to gather strength in preparation for vengeance, but the Narins… had disappeared completely, leaving no trace behind.
Some time later, information reached the Amarians that Arthur Narin had formed a brotherly bond with several young strangers.
Although those youths were entirely innocent, with no connection to the ancient war between the two clans… hatred proved stronger than reason.
The Amarians searched for those boys. But strangely, at the end of each search, they found every one of them already dead.
In the end, only a single boy remained alive… a boy living alone with his mother.
Thus… their plan of attack began.
What the Amarians did not know… was that there existed someone else, not of the Narin bloodline, who rivaled them in fury and strength—someone who had even surpassed them all.
That boy named Einver… was a living demon, merely awaiting the slightest injustice to ignite and unleash his flames.
Perhaps it was miscalculation… or lack of information…
But that truth remained hidden, known only to his brothers… and to Arthur himself.
---
"Einver… you truly have surpassed the limits of human strength."
"Keep training, brother… and you'll become even stronger."
Arthur was lying on the ground, panting heavily, his body drenched in sweat, while Einver stood calmly, not a single drop of sweat on him.
"Just tell me how you're like this…
I mean… none of us can defeat you, you bastard.
The last fight… it was me, Michael, Starroth, and even that scoundrel Rath-Kain—
All of us against you… and still… you managed to beat us, brother…"
Arthur looked at Einver with eyes full of astonishment.
"Tell me honestly… are you really human?
Don't worry… I'll keep your secret."
At that question, Einver only gave a faint smile, then lightly knocked Arthur on the head with his fist before continuing on his way toward home.
---
Meanwhile, six members of the Amarians clan approached Einver's house with a single intent…
To kill his mother in the most brutal way possible.
Among those six… was the clan leader himself.
"I wonder… where is Einver?"
Einver's mother murmured quietly as she washed the food, but at that moment, the sound of a heavy impact echoed.
She turned toward the door and saw an old man slowly entering.
His white hair fluttered with the passing breeze, and his calm expression bore the dignity of a wise elder…
But then she noticed the emblem drawn upon his robe…
'The Amarians Clan'
With that realization, she seized a small knife and leapt through a narrow window, trying to escape.
Einver's mother knew more than anyone about the truth of the Amarians and the Narins;
Her husband had once been among the men who supported the Narin clan in ancient times.
In fact, her husband's great-grandfather was known as the Sovereign of Blood, after he had once wrought a bloody massacre upon the Amarians.
She leapt from the window and began running between the houses, with the six men pursuing her like ravenous wolves stalking prey.
Some villagers were still in the streets, and they watched the woman struggling desperately to survive.
Her feet were torn, leaving crimson marks on the ground behind her, while tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes.
And yet… none offered help.
Some of the women even appeared pleased at her plight, smirks of mockery curling their lips.
For the women saw her as nothing more than a "chaste whore."
In this world drowned in debauchery, most women had surrendered to the new reality—selling their bodies for pleasure, for food, for filth.
But Einver's mother… had remained true to herself. She had never abandoned her honor, never betrayed her purity.
That was why other women despised her.
For a harlot always sees others through the lens of her own corruption…
The woman kept running, struggling to escape those wolves with their vile, merciless intent,
until she reached a crossroads… and before her loomed a massive wall, with no passage beyond.
'Einver… my son… forgive me…'
Slowly, she turned around to see the six men standing before her, their expressions burning with anger… yet overflowing with joy as well.
"The target… was only to kill you…
But now…
Killing alone will not truly satisfy me…"
The old man spoke these words with a gentle, innocent smile, while staring at Einver's mother with dead eyes.
But in that moment, without a single hesitation…
The six men noticed the small knife in her hand.
She raised it… and plunged it deep into her stomach with all her strength.
---
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