Silence.
A kind of silence that descends upon the soul—heavy, suffocating. The forest was still, the massive trees standing like sentinels, their shadows long and sharp, in the dim, pale light of the waning moon. Thin mist rolled over the ground, like restless souls seeking freedom. Amid that stillness, a lone shadowy figure sat with bowed head, body broken, mind shattered.
It was Thairik.
Once filled with ambition and a fiery resolve, now he was nothing but the shattered shell of his former self. His hands trembled, gripping the earth tightly, nails digging into the grass and soil—as if he wanted to bury his weakness beneath the ground. His eyes, once ablaze with dreams of greatness, were now full of despair. Closing them, the vision of his defeat surfaced. How had he been so easily defeated and humiliated? How had he become the laughingstock of Zalvor's warriors? It all caused him unbearable pain.
He whispered into the emptiness—
Thairik: "Why am I so weak? Why… why did you create me, oh Creator? To live in shame? To be crushed under others' feet? If only I had another chance…"
His voice broke, blending into the cold air. It wasn't just weakness that tormented him—the memory of defeat did too. Every time he had faced a battle, he had fallen into shadow. Bravel had mocked him, others had scorned him.
Silence gave him no answer—only emptiness.
He rose and began to walk.
Suddenly, something happened that changed everything.
A flicker caught the corner of his eye. Somewhere in the distance, a light. At first faint, twinkling like a lantern. But gradually it grew, brightened, sharpened—it was clearly fire. A strange fire. Not like a campfire, not like a torch. Its color was not orange—reddish, with golden streaks inside, and the fire seemed alive, pulsating.
Thairik's breath caught. Despair turned into curiosity, and curiosity into desperate hope. He began moving toward the fire.
The closer he got, the warmer the air became—not the heat of destruction, but the heat of power. The flames danced—not chaotically, but rhythmically, as if whispering secret words to the worthy.
Thairik approached the fire.
And then—it happened.
The fire suddenly leapt toward him like a creature. Before he could react, it entered his chest, a stream of fire coursing through his veins. His body shuddered, every nerve igniting in unbearable pain. He screamed—Ah!! But that scream transformed into a thunderous roar. Embers flared in his eyes, muscles tensed, his aura expanded like a storm.
He sank to his knees, gasping—but something inside him had changed. Despair was gone, replaced by the blazing flame of pride. Weakness vanished. The fire seemed to grant him some cosmic power. He clenched his fists, feeling the pulse of the fire within.
Thairik: "I… am no longer as I was. My body is stronger than ever, I feel it with every breath. It's time for revenge."
He stood and ran. He could hardly wait to show Zalvor's warriors the terrifying extent of his new power.
Face-to-Face with Bravel
Without hesitation, Thairik crossed the night and reached the training ground, where his old rival Bravel was sharpening his Crescent knives against stone. The sound of metal echoed through the silence.
Seeing Thairik's shadow, Bravel turned. His expression shifted from irritation to mockery.
Thairik: "Do you recognize me, Bravel?"
Bravel smirked. Bravel: "How could I not? You, the weakling who couldn't even take my first strike. Excluding the Shadow warriors of Sorith, you were Zalvor's weakest entity. I enjoyed defeating you. Could I forget you?"
The words pierced Thairik like a blade—but this time, he did not tremble. Rage warmed his body. His eyes burned with something Bravel had never seen before.
Thairik: "You recognized correctly. But this time, much will change. This time, neither you nor I will be Zalvor's weakest warrior. Today, I've come to challenge you again."
Bravel laughed, spinning his Crescent knives carelessly. Bravel: "A defeated dog showing teeth? Very well. I had shown mercy for Zalvor before. This time, there will be none."
Without warning, Bravel lunged. His blades cut through the air like snakes, descending toward Thairik.
Thairik's eyes blazed. ⚡ He lifted his staff and blocked—the clash of metal sparked flames.
Bravel spun for a second strike—Thairik ducked, placing a hand on the ground and spinning, striking Bravel's knee with his staff.
Bravel leapt back, delivering a double slash from the opposite side.
The strikes were so fast they were nearly invisible. Thairik was not just blocking—he was returning each strike. Each staff blow now came with the power of fire. The ground shook, dust flew. Bravel's expression, for the first time, revealed surprise.
Thairik pressed forward, unstoppable. His strikes flowed like rivers, tides, storms.
Finally—Thairik spun his staff overhead, bringing it down like lightning. ⚡ One of Bravel's blades flew far away. Another shattered against Thairik's staff, clattering to the ground.
Bravel sank to his knees.
And—
The fight was over.
Thairik had disarmed Bravel and thrown him to the ground. Bravel knelt, eyes wide in disbelief.
Bravel: "How? This… this isn't possible! I don't believe it!"
Thairik stood, eyes ablaze.
Thairik: "Possible or impossible—I have proven it. And your belief doesn't matter."
Leaving Bravel behind, he pressed onward. His pride demanded more—more victories, more recognition.
He moved forward, driven by fierce determination.
Assembly of Warriors
Bravel did not stay seated. Humiliated and wounded, he sent his messenger birds to call others. Soon, as Thairik arrived at the next place, three warriors awaited—
Morvex—the strategist Kairel—the fierce duelist Farrix—the wise observer
They stood, shadows long in the morning sun.
Morvex: "Foolishness… you are making a huge mistake, Thairik. There's still time. Go back, or the consequences will not be good."
Thairik: "Foolish you—because you are standing in the way of the future master. Listen, if I become the master, your outcome will not be good."
Farrix narrowed his eyes. Farrix: "That will never happen. This power is temporary. The fire burns bright—but will quickly die. It has lifted you high, so when it falls, the pain will be greater."
Thairik roared. Thairik: "Do not lie! You are trying to demotivate me."
Kairel stepped forward, claws extended. Kairel: "Enough talk. The decision will be made through battle. This mad dog must be controlled."
Kairel lunged first—his steel claws cut the air, shaking it as they descended on Thairik. Each strike sparked like lightning, sending tiny flames scattering on the ground.
Thairik spun his staff, blocking. The collision of metal sent showers of sparks, flames spreading on the earth, air burning. His staff danced in his hands, tracing fire patterns as if the fire itself came under his control.
At that moment—Morvex swung both his sabers. The spinning blades fell like metallic lightning.
Thairik leapt aside in silent grace, but the force of each blow reverberated around him.
From behind, Farrix struck—a silent, perfect kick to Thairik's chest, like a stone hitting him.
His body rolled backward, a shockwave echoing through the ground.
For a moment, Thairik struggled to regain balance.
But then—all three attacked simultaneously.
Strikes from three directions— Each like thunder, Each cutting through the air.
Thairik screamed, His staff spinning faster, sharper. Flames spread around— The cracks in the ground widened, Dust and fire mixed in the air.
Morvex was cunning, his saber seeking every opportunity. Kairel was ruthless, claws slicing through the air. Farrix was perfect, silent, every strike precise.
The pressure of the three—together—was overwhelming.
Thairik did not just resist— He returned every strike with fire, Each impact sending sparks, air waves, cracks.
His body trembled. Breath heavy. His fire was beginning to wane.
Suddenly—Thairik roared. 🔥 Prime Mode activated.
His body engulfed in fiery shadows. Around his staff, flames formed circles and runes. Cracks in the ground, smoke, and fire spread everywhere.
Power multiplied manifold.
With the next strike— Farrix flew away first. Morvex's sabers shattered, cutting the air. Kairel's claws broke, sparks scattering.
Thairik—attacking one by one, like a storm of fire and shadow— Crushed all three simultaneously.
Finally, they all collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, exhausted.
Thairik began to move again. But Farrix's words echoed in his mind—
"The fire burns bright, but will quickly die."
Thairik thought—
Thairik (to himself): "Really? Is this power only temporary? If I stop, will I become weak again? No… I must prove it. I must defeat Zalvor."
After walking a while, Thairik realized Farrix and Morvex were right. His power was beginning to wane. He understood that if he delayed, his strength would vanish, and he would not be able to defeat Zalvor. To come this far and fail would be the ultimate humiliation.
Final Test: Zalvor
Driven by pride and desperate urgency, Thairik rushed to the mountains where the venerable warrior Zalvor sat in meditation. The air was heavy, still—full of ancient knowledge. The sky was shrouded with dark clouds. Without a word, Thairik leapt, striking with all his strength.
Zalvor slowly opened his eyes—his movements so calm, so precise, as if untouchable. He raised his Long Sword, which blazed with powerful blue electricity.
Zalvor struck. Just one strike—and Thairik was thrown back.
Half of his strength gone.
Yet he stood, Shadow blood flowing, eyes determined—
Thairik: "I… will not fall! Never! I cannot lose."
He unleashed fire, shadow, and rage—but Zalvor easily evaded each blow and countered. Finally, Thairik collapsed on the ground—broken, defeated.
Thairik: (with tears in his eyes) No, no! How did I lose such a great opportunity! How could I be so foolish!
Zalvor came forward, eyes strict but merciful.
Zalvor: "You acted foolishly. You thought stolen power would save you? Power without understanding—means nothing."
Thairik whispered, blood and tears mingled— Thairik: (sadly) "I was wrong… I did not understand."
Zalvor: "Mistakes in the beginning—normal. But you erred twice. Tell me—what punishment do you seek?"
Thairik, in a broken voice, said— Thairik: "Forgive me once more. I promise… it will never happen again."
After a long silence, Zalvor nodded.
Zalvor: "Alright. But remember—next time, forgiveness may not be granted."
In that moment, Thairik's pride shattered. The fire inside him no longer burned wildly—it throbbed silently.
Zalvor: "It's good to have power, but without control, it will be your downfall. I liked your determination. From today, you will serve under me. I accept you into my ranks."
Thairik: (overjoyed) "Thank you very much, Sir. I promise I will never tarnish your honor."