Heat. Strong, pulsing heat wafted in the air. The air burned with multiple sparks ranging all across the ashen ground. The skin prickled, the hair burned in an act of escape, as if the world itself was breaking apart.
The atmosphere contained the scent of broken bones, blood, and mountains of bodies stacked together, their shape reminiscent of a mountain—like someone had piled the bodies in an act against God.
Many had missing arms, while others could barely breathe, their bodies crushed under the weight of another. The blood soaked them, turning the hellish landscape into one of merciless redness.
And yet, they watched... the eyes of those who sought to find whether their sacrifice would be worth it all. Their organs slipped out, yet they rebelled, opening their eyes, fighting against the sweet touch of death... They could feel it, the cold shivers—the menacing itch at the back of their minds.
Death had already claimed them; however, their eyes remained laser-focused, basking in the aftermath of the most terrifying battle of the Seiryun Empire. One that—if left to the light of day—would cause civil unrest throughout the country.
The shockwaves of the legendary battle still carried across the plane. Two figures, their bodies mighty and tough, fought against each other.
Their black and white hair contrasted, resembling vestiges of yin-yang.
The White Sun, Baek Jinryong, dodged another well-timed sword strike, the wind above him cutting under the sheer weight of the blade. His hand pulsed with yellow-white energy. His face, covered in scars and fresh cuts, gazed directly at his enemy.
Or perhaps... his best friend. His hand moved on its own, aiming an uppercut at the black-haired man. In a random scenario, the man would have dodged... after all, his instincts were the one thing that pushed him to the top... perhaps even the top of the entire world.
That is... if Baek Jinryong didn't exist. The punch connected with a sharp boom, the light hovering above his fist continuing its merciless rage, breaking onto the jaw of the man.
The Nightmare—Mujin Ryun—could only helplessly endure the pain, his jaw nearly crushed from the force of the attack. Sharp pain ached across his face, yet he remained focused.
Because today... he didn't fight to dominate. He fought to protect. His eyes glazed for a second, reminiscing the memory of his best friend.
The first time they had met, the introduction that brought them together.
I fight to protect, that's why I am so strong. The words of his former best friend echoed in his head... as if a reminder of what he had lost.
But then reality sank in. His blood boiled with even greater fury. You talked about protection, but you are the one who is aiming to kill my child. The Nightmare, Mujin, held the child even closer, as if trying to use his body to protect.
His eyes darted, gazing at another equally important battlefield. Two mystic beasts were locked in an ongoing battle, their claws thrashing against one another.
His mystic beast—the Night Panther—was clearly on the losing end. After fighting so many battles against the other martial artists, it was clear it had no way to survive.
He calmly sliced his sword in front of him, making the enemy take a step back. Yes... that's what you are now—just an enemy. His mind unraveled into chaotic thoughts as he continued his aggressive onslaught on the White Sun.
His supposed child still tucked safely in his arms, he continued fighting the man. Shockwaves rang across the ground, causing multiple fractures. Many of the men who had been watching had already been taken away... by death. The few who could barely keep their eyes open were shocked.
The Nightmare... the man who had fought seventy beast-bonded martial artists, could still go toe to toe with the strongest man in the empire.
The fight continued in similar motion, strikes of pure raging darkness clashing against blinding light, creating an array of spectacles... yet, as is the truth of the universe, even this came to an end.
Mujin was finally out of Ki. His sword, which had once been mighty, slugged along. His body, which could block or dodge multiple strikes, was now riddled with life-ending cuts.
The last attack was the final note. The White Sun, taking in the weakness of his enemy, quickly swished and reappeared behind him. His figure pulsed with strength as he cocked back his right hand. His eyes appeared melancholic for a second, yet they hardened. I am sorry, friend... but your child is the child of prophecy. He cannot be allowed to live.
The white glow covered his hand as he struck.
Puchi.
Mujin coughed blood, his eyes darting down at the sharp pain emerging from his chest. His eyes widened for a second as he looked at his own mangled heart, torn away from his body, clenched in a hand.
Black spots grew under his vision, his body—once his sanctuary—breaking down under its own weight... and yet, amongst it all, the Nightmare smiled.
Because his son... the supposed child of prophecy... would live. He had long since dropped his child in the land of the mystic animals... an act so crazy it would count as the same as killing his child.
And yet, knowing he had dropped him in the area of the Night Panthers brought him a shimmer of relief. If anyone can survive there... it's you, my son. His final thoughts, even in death, remained with his family.
I fulfilled my promise, dear.
And then his eyes closed... the Nightmare was dead.
The one who had single-handedly brought the Seiryun Empire to its knees.
Even in death, he remained defiant.
The White Sun, Baek, glanced one last time at the face of his best friend... before looking at the child.
His heart tinged with grief, yet he knew what had to be done.
The prophecy—the one who brings an end to the era of martial arts... I wonder how a child so pure could do that... kill so many. He thought, his hand, once strong, barely moving... the guilt crashing over him like a hammer. His eyes watered, yet he forcefully lifted his hand.
His heart ached doing this to the child of his best friend. But I have to... the lives of millions rely on me. The thought... his only light in this dark tunnel.
Suddenly he felt a nudge. His eyes darted towards the huge figure of his mystic beast—the Solar Lion—who was trying to comfort him... perhaps sensing his turmoil.
His eyes looked at the ash scattered across the battlefield. His companion, the Night Panther, had disappeared. The moment its owner died... a known end for a beast when its master perished.
His eyes hardened as he looked at the innocent child once more. If I wait any longer... I won't be able to do it. His eyes closed. His heart turned heavy, like someone had placed a rock on it.
His hand moved at blinding speed, only to hear the sound of flesh splitting apart. He could feel it... it was soft... pure—untainted by any darkness.
And for once in his life, Baek could feel it... he had died inside.
.
.
.
The world didn't know it then, but the White Sun died a few days afterward—a huge shock to the Seiryun Empire.
The cause? Unknown. Yet some said he drowned in depression... not even choosing to meet his wife or son.
Little did the man know... the child he killed was just an ordinary newborn... someone the Nightmare had stolen from a crib. The real child of prophecy still lived, in the jungles of what was once the city of Ceorin—the land of the Night Panther.
...
.....
.....
Thud. A child, around fifteen years of age, quickly closed the book he was reading. His eyes glazed over the unique story. His gaze shifted to the title of the book—Volume 0: The Truth. The red cover was pristine, as if built of some unknown leather, its surface smooth to the touch... something Kai did often.
His eyes glazed as he thought about the sacrifice of Mujin... the truth behind the death of the White Sun. His hand quickly covered his face, almost out of embarrassment.
"C'mon now, Kai... I am not so dumb as to believe such stupid conspiracy. A prophecy? White Sun... the literal embodiment of good killing a child?... impossible," he muttered, his hand working in tandem, putting the book quietly on the shelf.
He lazily looked at the clock on the wall. The time showed 4:45... the sun had barely risen, yet Kai could feel the dark circles closing in under his eyes. Another day... another night spent awake... I wonder how long I will keep doing this, he sighed.
His eyes darted towards the book. It might be just a silly little conspiracy, yet... in such a dark time of his life... it was his only source of happiness.
Reading the supposed adventure of the White Sun and the Nightmare—the heroes of the Seiryun Empire—filled his empty heart with a twinge of happiness.
Something about martial artists being cool... his heart suddenly skipped a beat. Didn't Mother used to say that? Fresh tears formed near his eyes, before he quickly and aggressively wiped them away, suddenly jumping onto his own two feet.
Not today... I will deal with it some other day. He quickly hid the book in the drawer under his shelf. He didn't know how the book had suddenly appeared there... but he had long since stopped questioning it.
There was no such published book in the Seiryun Empire, and he had far too much to deal with to care where a silly little book came from.
After all, it's been fifteen years since the White Sun died... and no way would a hero of his caliber die from depression. The empire already told us he died as a hero, and I have no desperation to find out whether they were lying or not. He mentally nodded, quickly walking into the washroom.
His hands fumbled opening the tap, an act laughably easy for an average man... let alone a martial artist like him... and yet, he was far too distracted to care.
Splashing the cold water onto his face brought him a semblance of comfort. He hadn't liked cold water before... always crying about it being too hurtful and how warm water was so comforting... but times had changed him.
After all... Mother isn't here anymore... there is no one to complain to. The thought engulfed him like a tsunami. He hadn't even visited her grave... instead choosing to quietly read his book.
He splashed another round of the cold, gleaming water, the harshness of the liquid bringing his mind back into place.
His eyes darted toward the mirror, gazing at his sunken expression... black eyes with enough dark circles to act like mascara, straight thin black hair which hung loosely on his face, obscuring half of his forehead, the strands falling between his eyes and the mirror.
His body, once strong and lean, had quickly grown thinner... as if the boy had stopped eating. Something Kai was definitely guilty of.
He quickly stopped analyzing himself. Let's just get done with this, he thought. His body worked in a rhythmic motion—freshening up and donning a new set of clothes, with the emblem of his school.
The white and black cloth stuck to him like familiar skin, the comfort a soothing balm for his chaotic mind. His eyes paused, looking at the robe. His blood went cold for a second. I should really just be done with this, the thought repeated, and he quickly pushed himself off to school.
After all, at least one thing remained constant in his life... he had to become a martial artist, and the first step to that was passing his school.
He had promised that much... and Kai was many things... but never one to break promises.
He walked through the street as the first ray of the morning sun illuminated the district. His eyes turned glossy, his mind constantly thinking about the Night Panther of Mujin. He wasn't interested in watching the streets being rebuilt... it reminded him of his past...
However, for Kai... it seemed it wasn't long before his past confronted him. Whether that would break or build him... remained uncertain.
.......
Hello guys, this is your author this side. A little information about me- I have written a few fanfics on this site.. and my recent one had a very good feedback.
So now, after improving my writting, I believe I can do good in a book.
Thanks all for reading
Peace