Chapter 2
The Beginning of Torment
Despite his immense strength and the awe he inspired in all who knew him, Einver had never once slacked in his training. Not for a single moment.
He knew well that he was recognized worldwide as a martial artist of renown, having mastered, from a young age, most of the martial arts passed down through the nations of the world.
The sword, the spear, the halberd, the whip, and countless other weapons… for him, they were nothing more than simple tools, familiar toys that never wore him out.
He hadn't learned just one or two martial arts… he had studied nearly all the known martial disciplines in existence, and even some of the forgotten ancient ones that no one spoke of anymore.
At a young age, he had become a master of all weapons, earning the title Lord of Martial Arts.
His training had begun when he was but a child, and yet he never confined himself to the natural limits of the human body.
It was true that mankind had boundaries they could not surpass.
But Einver… he had broken those limits, even if only slightly, and continued to push forward.
Still… in a world devoid of any spiritual force or magic, what could a mere human truly accomplish?
In truth… nothing of real significance.
Einver's only mistake was that he had been born into a human world that honored strength only when it was drenched in blood and destruction.
After the nation's ruin, so many hypocrites and false peacemakers appeared, claiming they would fight for us, repair the land… yet years have passed, and not a single thing has changed…
Einver exhaled silently, staring at his hardened palms before a faint, weary smile spread across his lips.
It's all because of me…
"Einver, my son… could you go see Void? He hasn't come for two days."
Where has that little fool gone…
"Alright, Mother."
Einver set his sword aside and left the house, his steps quiet but heavy with unease.
Void has no one… no family, no friends… so where could he be?
He sighed once more as he began searching through the village streets.
Before the war, the villagers had respected Einver and his family deeply. They had admired him as a gifted, talented youth.
He had taken part in many martial arts tournaments, winning them all, and had risen to fame on a global scale.
All of that… was before the war.
After the war broke out, and his father died, the people's true faces were revealed.
Most no longer spoke to Einver. Many even grew to hate him, turning their faces away in disdain.
In the past, smiles had always greeted him whenever he passed…
But now, no one looked at him except with hatred and contempt, as though he were a demon who had appeared among them on the day of divine judgment.
Einver sighed once again, but he ignored their looks completely, continuing his search for Void with silent resolve.
After three exhausting hours of searching…
Einver reached the edge of the village. There… he noticed traces of blood scattered on the ground.
"Did… someone fight here?"
In these filthy times, fighting for food, water, or even clothing was common.
People would kill each other for a crust of bread or a ragged piece of cloth.
But what caught Einver's attention was that this place was Void's former home.
Void often returned here from time to time…
But never before had there been a drop of blood. The house had always been nothing more than an abandoned dwelling, like a haunted shell.
"Brother…"
"Huh?"
Einver heard that frail voice from inside the house, and at once his heart trembled.
His feet felt as if they had frozen to the ground.
That voice stirred terrifying memories in his mind… memories of how he lost his sister… and how he lost his vile brothers as well.
Those painful recollections swirled through his head like black clouds.
Instead of carrying him forward, his feet began to retreat.
But just as he took another step back… he felt a warm hand push him firmly from behind!
He turned swiftly, ready to strike—
Yet his entire body froze when he saw the transparent figure before him.
"…Arthur?"
The name left his lips as a hoarse whisper, his body trembling with grief and sorrow.
In that instant, the spectral figure smiled gently, lifted a hand, and pointed toward the inside of the house… before vanishing completely, like a ghost.
Einver had no idea what was happening…
Arthur… he died so long ago…
What in the Creator's name is happening?
Am I… hallucinating?
Suddenly, he raised his hand and struck his own face hard, trying to clear his mind.
Then, summoning his courage with difficulty, he dashed into the house.
The moment he stepped inside…
The stench of blood struck his nose, sharp and revolting.
He was accustomed to the smell of blood, and yet, each time, it still awakened a flicker of revulsion deep in his chest.
"Void!… Where are you?"
Einver searched the dark house for some time, until he came upon a closed door.
He lifted his leg and kicked it forcefully, smashing it open—
And there…
He saw the body hanging from a long iron hook in the center of the room.
"B…broth… brother…"
"Void!"
Einver rushed forward, grabbed Void by the legs, and lifted him up, struggling to free him.
As he pulled, Void cried out in agony, but Einver ignored his screams. He seized the hook embedded in Void's shoulder and tore it out with brutal force.
"Void! What happened to you?
Who did this to you?"
"I-It was… the Amarians…
Brother… their target is you… because… you're Arthur's brother…"
…The Amarian Clan.
An ancient lineage, thousands of years old.
They had once been destroyed by Arthur Narin I, Arthur Narin's grandfather, in a legendary war between the Narins and the Amarians.
After that war, the Amarians had fallen and vanished completely, leaving no trace.
Later, after the Fifth World War, Arthur discovered that the Amarian Clan had played a crucial role in countless wars and calamities, including the First World War…
They had allied with the tyrant who ruled the nation of Mezanokid, conspiring with him,
and they had even taken part in the war between Israel and Palestine—naturally, on Israel's side.
They had always worked from the shadows, aiding and feeding evil.
And when the Fourth World War against Israel erupted, the Amarians once again took part, standing alongside Israel, which led to Israel's victory over the Arab states…
Not because of the Amarians' strength, but because of the Arabs' division.
When one Arab nation tried to resist Israel, the others turned against it, as though it were the devil itself—not Israel—just to protect their own interests and political power.
Those Arab nations fell into Israel's hands, ruled by the enemy for many long years…
But all of that was before the Fifth World War, which erased Israel from existence in a single week…
Crushed utterly by an unknown figure.
As for the Amarian Clan… they disappeared once again, as was their custom.
They were cursed villains, kept in check only by the presence of the Narins.
But after the death of Arthur's father… and then Arthur himself, about a year ago…
They began to reveal themselves to the world once more.
And now… their target was Einver and his mother.
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