Chapter 4
Who Am I
"Where is she…?"
Einver began searching inside the house frantically, checking every corner and every shadow, but he found nothing…
After a few moments of searing anxiety, he noticed the back window left open. A faint smile—filled with forced relief—appeared on his face.
"Yes…
It's my mother. Nothing will ever happen to her."
He whispered softly, trying to convince himself, before bursting outside with frantic speed.
At that very moment… his rage was about to erupt.
The wrath of the Kami inside him was on the verge of breaking free for the second time—ready to drown this world in chaos.
Einver continued searching until he noticed the bloodstained footprints his mother had left behind, her wounded feet bleeding heavily.
He followed those crimson marks, his breath heavy with choking dread. In his mind, only one desperate hope remained:
'Please, Mother… be safe…'
He rushed toward a crossroad, a gentle smile curving his lips…
But that smile shattered instantly when his black eyes saw it—
his mother… stabbing herself before him!
'Huh…?'
His body froze where he stood, as though time itself had stopped.
He saw her collapse—like a crimson flower whose stem had been severed—
her blood spilling from her stomach in a stream that deepened the color of the earth.
He wanted to move, but his heart pounded with unbearable violence…
His mind whispered: She's dead…
But his heart screamed: No…!
His body stood paralyzed, caught between these two truths.
Then… his eyes met hers—those gentle black eyes that had always lit his world…
and he watched them dim, little by little…
"Filthy whore!"
"Master, what shall we do now?"
"She's still alive… Then let's have some fun with her first…"
The old man spoke with a twisted smile.
But then, suddenly, his own heart began to pound with a fear he couldn't understand—
as if his soul had drawn too close to the maw of a slumbering dragon.
'Wh-what… is this feeling?
The last time I felt fear like this… was when I fought Alexander Narin in his youth…
Has Alexander returned from the dead? Or…'
The old man's body shook, refusing to look behind him.
For in that moment, darkness had fallen across his vision,
and he felt as though the reaper's scythe had already touched his throat.
"One more step… and I will shatter your soul."
The voice was low, calm, without emotion—yet it spoke from behind him.
With quiet grace, Einver passed by the men like a dark breeze, until he stood before his mother.
"Mother…"
"M… my son… y-you're here…"
Her weak voice trembled, and tears welled in his eyes.
But he smiled gently and said:
"Don't worry, Mother… I'll be back in just a few seconds."
He turned swiftly, and in the same instant, caught the blade that had been aimed at his neck.
"H-how did—"
The man's words never finished. Einver pressed down on the blade with one hand, snapping it like cheap wood.
"I'm going to kill— No… no, no…
I'll take you all alive… yes… yes…"
But Einver never finished his sentence.
The man grabbed the broken shard of steel and tried to drive it into Einver's shoulder.
Einver simply raised his hand and pressed it against the man's stomach.
'One-inch strike…'
Before the man could even call out the name of the technique,
a dreadful agony pierced his very soul, as though the flames of hell had ignited within him.
He looked down in shock—
Einver's hand had torn through his stomach and emerged from his back!
"W-what…
Why… are you this strong…?"
Einver pulled his hand free, and with blinding speed, moved past the other five men.
Within twenty seconds, he struck each one directly on the head—
and all of them collapsed, unconscious.
Taking the cloth draped over the old man's shoulder, he wiped the blood from his hand in silence.
Then, in a cold, quiet voice, he asked:
"Tell me, old man… do you know who I am?"
The old man's eyes half-closed in terror, his body trembling violently, his voice breaking with fear:
"Th-th… the Blood Monarch…
Thurian… Kami…"
The moment he uttered those trembling words, he collapsed, unconscious from sheer terror and disbelief.
For in the records of the Amari Clan, there was mention of an ancient bloodline—
the Clan of Kami, renowned for their overwhelming might.
They had once stood beside the Narins in the wars of old.
And history had written that the two most terrifying figures among both clans were:
Arthur Narin the First… and Thurian Kami.
The kings of their clans… Lords of Destruction.
And now… the old man had seen in Einver's face the shadow of Thurian Kami himself.
Einver tossed the old man's body aside and rushed back to his mother.
That darkness which had consumed his heart only moments before—vanished completely.
All his greatness, all his power… bowed before his mother.
He sat upon the ground, gently pulling her into his arms.
"Mother…"
"M… my son… y-you're h-here…"
She smiled weakly, raising her bloodied hand with great effort, trying to touch his face.
"Yes, Mother, I'm here…
We'll go home right away… you're fine, Mother… there's nothing to fear…"
She gazed into his beautiful black eyes and smiled tenderly.
Her trembling hand caressed his cheek.
"My son… forgive your foolish mother…
who gave you nothing but pain…
My son… don't let rage consume you…
Y-you are… Einver… y-you are…"
Her words faltered. She coughed violently, spitting blood with a sound of raw pain.
'Forgive me, my son…
Kaizen… I'm coming, my beloved husband… I couldn't see Einver's children…
I couldn't see his wife… nor his happiness…'
Then she smiled one last warm smile, gazing upon his face…
and her hand fell limply to the earth.
With that soft thud of her hand touching the ground—
a simple sound—Einver's heart shattered completely.
"Don't worry, Mother…
You're fine… I'm sure of it."
He spoke in a trembling voice, staring at her face with desperate confidence, waiting for any reply, any motion…
But… nothing.
"Mother…?"
He called again…
but silence spoke louder than all words.
"Please, Mother…
I beg you…
I am nothing without you… I'm just a cursed, foolish boy…
Please… please… please… please… please… please… please…"
He kept pleading in a broken voice, clutching her cold body…
But death… spares no one.
At that moment…
darkness spread across the world. For the first time in years, the skies thundered violently, and raindrops began to fall gently upon the earth.
The raindrops mingled with Einver's tears, streaming down his cheeks.
He screamed in agony, until blood spilled from his mouth. He screamed and screamed and screamed…
But…
no scream, no tears could ever return the dead.
They were nothing more than a desperate attempt to ease the unbearable pain of loss.
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