Part Two – Chapter Four: Discovery of the Truth
The darkness was not merely the absence of light; it was a heavy embrace that wrapped around the entire forest, pressing on every corner, every tree trunk, every shattered stone, and every fallen leaf. It was as if the forest itself breathed with a slow, suffocating weight, a living body dead from the inside, burdened with pain, loaded with ancient memories, endless struggles, and every moment of weakness endured by those who came before him, before his turn to bear witness to the ruin. The ground was torn, old blood congealed on rocks and burned wood, the scent of iron and blood seeping into his chest, making his heart pound with rising anger, each breath he drew carrying the weight of years of bitter memories.
The air was thick with the scent of death and ancient chaos. Cries of the past echoed between the trees, slipping through broken stones, among rubble, and shredded leaves, as if everything here whispered every betrayal, every pain, every moment in which Shura had suffered without mercy, without protection, without pause, without rest. Every heartbeat, every shiver through his body, every tiny movement echoed through the space as if the earth itself groaned under the weight of accumulated sorrow.
Shura walked through the middle of this dark world, his body exhausted, eyes red and swollen from crying, from suppressed rage, and from the psychological pressure that had built inside him over countless years. Every step he took produced a heavy echo, every inch he crossed whispered with pain, as if the broken trees, dead branches, even the smallest stones, groaned under the weight of his presence and screamed with the silence of the forest. The elongated shadows pressed against his heart, pressed against his chest, pressed on every part of him, as if the night itself wanted to devour him entirely, as if the air surrounding him had become dense like a prison, suffocating, preventing him from breathing easily.
Suddenly, he noticed a faint light in the distance—a glimmer on the surface of a small hidden pond among the dense trees. He approached it slowly, as if every step weighed tons, every movement producing a sound heavy enough to make the ground cry. When he looked at the water's surface, he froze, as if his heart had stopped for an endlessly long moment. His reflection was not alone… another presence appeared within him: the Entity, staring back with a malicious grin, mocking all his suffering, as if the entire world had become a stage for laughing at his pain.
He stood silently, his mind boiling between shock and fear, between feelings of betrayal and anger, mixed with the mysteriousness surrounding everything. Suddenly, the scene shifted into his inner consciousness, to a limitless, dark world where everything was shaded, every element whispering of past betrayals. There, the Entity stood before him, its eyes glowing with darkness, like windows into the deepest recesses of his soul, reading every secret, every pain, every memory of destruction he had endured since birth.
Its voice, low yet dripping with mockery, said:
"Hello, crying child… what brings you here?"
Shura, his voice trembling, weak, full of suppressed pain, replied:
"Why… did you make me a murderer… shedding the blood of the innocent?"
The Entity laughed a sinister, tearing laughter that broke the silence, echoing through every corner of his inner consciousness, and said:
"You truly do not deserve my power… but do not worry, the time of my birth is near."
The scene returned to the forest, where the small pond shimmered under the pale moonlight. Shura stood before it, only one eye gleaming in the darkness, the other missing, yet he walked with steady steps despite the rising fear within him, defying everything inside, moving toward his final enemy… Ira.
He arrived at the base of a massive mountain, shrouded in dark silence, before him a long staircase descended into the depths. Every step echoed in the stillness, reflecting all the years of pain he had endured, every disappointment, every moment of weakness. He descended slowly, his steps synchronized with his heavy breathing, each movement resonating, each breath igniting the fury in his heart. At the bottom, he stood before a vast, shadowed hall, at its center a towering throne, as if preparing him for the fateful confrontation.
Upon the throne sat Ira, her gaze cold enough to pierce the soul, looking at him without a trace of compassion, saying with a voice of ice:
"Finally, you have come, my little crying brother."
Shura, voice sharp and filled with determination, said:
"I came to know everything."
Suddenly, a shadow appeared behind the throne, his heart raced, his eyes widening in indescribable shock: it was Mika.
Mika laughed loudly, filled with mockery, her voice echoing throughout the dark hall, bouncing off the stone walls:
"Did you think I was this weak?"
Shura froze, shock freezing his blood, unable to believe what he saw. Beside Mika, Ira laughed without remorse, saying coldly:
"I would have become queen if you had not been born, but fate… the eye that chose you was born to be the heir to the kingdom."
Mika smiled, a grin full of treachery and cunning:
"There was a sorcerer who said this child would harbor a legendary entity within, that he would wield its power for good to become the strongest man of his era… Hahaha… but our view was different."
Ira added, her voice dripping with malice:
"We, Mika and the five kings, wanted to plunge you into despair, to make you weak… but the unexpected happened, and we turned you into a merciless killer."
Their laughter rose, filling the hall, reflecting off every wall, the echo extending into the depths of the forest. Even the Entity inside Shura laughed with them, as if their laughter had become part of his mind, part of all the pain stored within him over the years.
Shura stood rigid, tears in his eyes, everything around him blurred: every scheme, every betrayal, every moment he lost safety, every tear he had shed since childhood.
Ira, in a sarcastic tone, stepped closer and said:
"Didn't I tell you? You're still the same crying child."
Shura's tears fell, yet the flame of rage within him rose endlessly, a fury that gathered all years of pain and betrayal into a single blaze, a flame capable of erasing everything around him.
An image etched itself into his mind: he stands between their cruel laughter and the darkness of the forest curling around him, his eyes shining with rage, his heart pounding with a dark, formidable energy, his consciousness charged with a power he had never known before, ready to face everything, ready to uncover the whole truth, no matter what it costs him—his soul, his tears, his everything.