Chapter: I Will Become the Mightiest of Crimson Phoenix Nation! No… the Mightiest in This World!**
In the days following that tragedy, Sakari's world crumbled into a bleak, ashen gray. His father, consumed by grief, took his own life, while his mother had passed when he was but a babe. The vibrant flame that once burned within Sakari's heart was reduced to smoldering embers. His sister, Akari—the last flicker of light in his life—had been stolen, transformed into a Fire Spirit to mend the meaningless wounds of war. Lying amidst the ashes of the sacrificial altar, blood dripping from his wounds onto the scorched earth, Sakari clenched his fists, his eyes red with tears and rage. "I swear… one day, when I have the strength, I will climb to the pinnacle of Seiki Hoki and seize control of this rotten system. And then… I will become the Fire God of Crimson Phoenix Nation and change everything!" It was no mere child's vow spoken by an eight-year-old; it was a blazing oath forged in the depths of his soul, a curse binding him to a merciless fate.
From that moment, Sakari threw himself into a relentless quest for power, driven like a wounded beast by pain and solitude. Each dawn, he hauled water from the rain-soaked forests of the North to his village—not one or two buckets like others, but three, four, even ten times as many. His small frame trembled under the weight, sweat mingling with rainwater, yet he pressed on. "If I can't endure this, how can I change anything?" he muttered through gritted teeth, each step a testament to his resolve. The familiar paths of his village became a personal inferno, each footfall a reminder of his past powerlessness.
But Sakari's ambition didn't stop there. He ventured into places even the seasoned scouts of Seiki Ren feared: cavernous depths where monstrous beasts and earth dragons lurked. These creatures, with scales hard as mountain stone and breath hot as molten lava, had once haunted his childhood nightmares. Now, he faced them with trembling hands clutching a rusty dagger, fighting not merely to survive but to transcend his limits. Every claw mark, every bone-jarring blow carved itself into his flesh, turning pain into fuel. "Akari… you sacrificed yourself for this kingdom. I won't let it be for nothing!"
One fateful day, deep within a damp, shadowy cave, Sakari stumbled into the web of a Fire Demon Spider—a colossal beast with a carapace ablaze like hellfire, its eight razor-sharp legs glinting under the faint glow of luminescent fungi. Its sticky threads ensnared him, their burning venom searing his skin. Sakari thrashed in desperation, his breath ragged, his vision blurring from the agony. "No… it can't end here!" he roared, but his body weakened, consciousness slipping away. The Fire Demon Spider loomed closer, its jagged mandibles dripping with venom, ready to devour its helpless prey.
In that final moment, a sharp sound pierced the air—*whoosh!*—like wind slicing through the void. A blazing stone, glowing red as volcanic magma, hurtled through the darkness and pierced the beast's head. *Boom!* The Fire Demon Spider shrieked in agony, its massive form convulsing before collapsing, dead in an instant. The magical webs dissolved like mist, freeing Sakari. He lay there, unconscious, catching only a fleeting glimpse of a shadowy figure—small yet radiating an enigmatic power. The figure moved like a phantom, long hair flowing in the cave's eerie breeze, eyes gleaming like twin fallen stars in an endless night. Their cloak billowed, blending into the darkness as if born from it. Was this a god descended to earth, or a hallucination born of delirium? Sakari didn't know, and his mind sank into oblivion.
When he awoke, he found himself on a straw bed in a dilapidated hut, the faint scent of herbs lingering in the air. Beside him sat Kando, an old man familiar to Seiki Ren, with disheveled white hair and deep-set eyes heavy with the sorrow of years. Once a skilled scout, Kando now lived in solitude, sharing tales of old with the village children. "You… how did you find me?" Sakari whispered, his voice frail. Kando only smiled mysteriously, shaking his head without answering, his calloused hands gently bandaging the boy's wounds.
Sakari struggled to rise, his body aching but his spirit unyielding. "I have to go… I have to keep training!" he declared, pushing past Kando toward the door. But within a few steps—*snap!*—a cleverly hidden trap sprang, a rope snaring his ankle and hoisting him upside down. Dangling like a wind chime, Sakari's face flushed with embarrassment as he flailed helplessly. "Kando! Let me down! I'm not a kid anymore!" he shouted, his voice a mix of defiance and childish petulance that made him chuckle despite his frustration. Kando's hearty, rasping laugh echoed through the small hut. "Foolish boy, you'll die before you get strong if you keep this up. Stay there and listen to me!"
That night, under the flickering light of the hearth, Sakari hung suspended, head pointed toward the floor, blood rushing to his face and leaving him dizzy. Yet in that absurd position, a conversation began, shifting from awkward to profound. Sakari spoke of Akari, of his loss, of his vow. Kando listened, his aged eyes glistening with unshed tears in the firelight. "I understand, lad… I understand all too well. Long ago, my daughter was taken the same way. A beautiful girl, full of hope, but in Seiki Ren… we're nothing but pawns. Powerless, we can only swallow our tears as our loved ones vanish into the flames." Kando's voice trembled, old wounds bleeding anew. Sakari, still hanging upside down, clenched his fists, tears streaming down his forehead to the dirt floor. "Why, Kando? Why must we endure this? Not just Seiki Ren… you said all three sects are like this? Our loved ones… all turned into spirits just to heal the wounds of a senseless war?"
His emotions erupted like a wildfire, and Sakari swung his arms, shouting despite his helpless position. "Why, instead of using traditional healing, do they choose this cruelty? Why sacrifice lives for power? I hate… I hate this idiotic system!" The ropes swayed as if his fury shook the very room. Kando sighed, stepping closer, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, his voice warm yet heavy with sorrow. "If ordinary healing worked, lad, they wouldn't need spirits. War… it devours everything. The wounds from beasts, from enemies… they're too deep, too toxic. Spirits are the only way to save lives, but the cost… it's too steep." Sakari's body gradually stilled, his dangling form slowing, his rage subsiding into a smoldering ache, like a fire burning itself out.
Then, lifting his face, his eyes gleamed with resolve through the tears, despite his comical predicament. "Why the war? Why must we fight senseless battles? Why… why did people like my sister have to die? A thousand whys scream in my head!" His voice broke, but then, like a spark piercing the dark, he declared, "I will become the mightiest… not just of Crimson Phoenix Nation, but of this entire world. And when I do, I won't allow war to rage anywhere. I will end it all!" Kando gazed at him, his eyes alight like a rekindled flame, a wry smile spreading across his face—a smile of hope tinged with the bittersweet wisdom of one who had seen too much.