image [https://i.imgur.com/Rh00VNI.png]

The sound of the battle raged on in the distance, each clash trembling the earth beneath Bokun as he pushed himself up from the dirt and foliage. Groaning, he rolled his shoulders, cracking his back. "He’s as tough as they come," he said, spitting a clump of dirt from his mouth and wiping his face with the back of his hand.

A sudden neigh caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw Etro, his massive steed, standing nearby. The horse’s flared nostrils released bursts of steam, his sides heaving from exertion.

"Etro," Bokun called out, a wide grin spreading across his face. But as he looked into the horse's deep, knowing eyes, his grin faded. He gestured toward the open fields behind them. "Go on, boy. Get out of here. Live to fight another day."

But Etro remained rooted to the spot, his eyes reflecting a stubborness that matched his master's. Bokun sighed, knowing full well what the horse was trying to tell him. "You stubborn bastard," he said under his breath. Taking a step closer, he softened his tone. "You know I can’t do that," his hand brushing behind Etro’s ears.

The distant battle drew his attention again. Cracks spread across the bark of nearby trees, and the forest trembled with each distant blow. Guhin was out there, holding his own against that old man. Bokun clenched his fists. He couldn’t let Guhin face him alone.

"Etro," he said, turning back to the horse with determination burning in his eyes. He extended his hand, palm up. "Give it to me."

Etro shuddered at the command, his ears flattening against his skull. The massive horse took a step back, letting out a nervous whinny. Bokun's eyes narrowed. "I don't have time for this, Etro. Give it to me!"

The horse took another hesitant step back, his powerful body trembling slightly. Bokun's patience snapped. "Etro!" he bellowed, his voice booming with frustration. "I swear by the gods, I'm going to count to three, and if you don't get your overgrown ass moving, you're going to regret it!"

He thrust his finger out, starting the count. "One—

Before he could continue, Etro spun around abruptly, galloping away with powerful strides. Bokun was left standing there, his finger still outstretched, his mouth open in mid-count. "Damn you, Etro!"

He stood there for a moment, seething. His hand dropped to his side, then, almost against his will, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he shook his head.

His thoughts quickly returned to the battle, and his eyes scanned the surroundings until they locked onto his greatsword, its blade embedded deep into the trunk of a tree nearby. With a determined stride, he made his way toward it, mumbling under his breath, "Just wait till I get my hands on you... I swear..."

But just as his fingers grazed the hilt, the air around him shifted. A deep rumble tore through the ground, and the tree exploded into a cloud of splinters.

Bokun's eyes widened in shock as Guhin’s body shot through the debris like a cannonball. "Son of a—" Bokun yelled, shielding his face as shards of wood and dirt pelted him. His frustration boiled over as he watched his weapon disappear into the shattered trees. "Oh, c'mon!"

Guhin sprang to his feet, blood streaking his face. Without hesitation, he launched himself back into the fight, his movements wild and unrelenting. Bokun stared, torn between disbelief and frustration.

The battle between Guhin and Myrkhos raged on, their movements so swift and powerful that it seemed like they were the only two beings in the world, locked in combat that transcended mortal limits.

Bokun, usually not one to be ignored, found himself watching from the sidelines, seething with anger. They were ignoring him... and perhaps they had reason to. The feats they were displaying were beyond anything a normal man could achieve. But that realization only fueled Bokun’s determination to one day reach that level himself, in this life, or the next. For now, he could only watch, as Myrkhos, the stranger who seemed untouchable, delivered a crushing blow to Guhin’s torso.

The impact sent Guhin flying back, crashing into the ground with a force that made the earth shudder. Myrkhos didn’t waste a moment. As soon as his feet left the ground, leaping after Guhin, the rain stopped mid-fall, droplets freezing in place.

The water began to spiral toward him, drawn in a mesmerizing pattern. It circled his arms, gaining speed with every revolution, growing thicker and denser. The spiraling liquid compressed with a deep, resonant crunch. By the time Myrkhos descended upon Guhin, the massive crystalline hammer had fully reformed.

Guhin barely had time to brace himself after slamming into the ground. Before he could recover, Myrkhos was there, his hammer coming down with the full force of a blunt swing. The impact was cataclysmic, the ground beneath them shuddering violently as the area was engulfed in dirt and debris.

A shockwave tore through the battlefield, sending a gust of wind and debris rushing toward Bokun. Shielding his face with his arm, he dug his heels into the mud, sliding back several feet before steadying himself.

As the dust began to settle, Myrkhos’ eyes widened, his composure slipping for the first time. Guhin stood there, his hands wrapped tightly around the hammer. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, as the weapon began to fracture under the pressure of his grip.

Guhin’s lips parted, the words almost tumbling out before he stopped himself. He wanted to ask Who am I?—the question burned at the edges of his mind ever since he first woke up. But something deeper, something darker, gnawed at him, twisting the words before they could leave his throat.

Instead, he asked. “What… am I?”

The hammer groaned under his grip, shards of crystal breaking away and falling at Guhin's feet. This wasn't just a question, it was a demand.

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“You’re holding back,” Guhin growled, as he steadied himself. “I can feel it. You know me. You know what I am. Tell me!” His piercing gaze bore into Myrkhos.

Myrkhos’ expression flickered, a shadow of something unspoken crossing his face. His lips moved, barely audible. “Holding back…” he said, almost as if speaking to himself.

Myrkhos’ thoughts turned inward. He’s right. I am holding back. Why? His hands tightened around the hammer's hilt. Why can’t I finish it? After all these years. After everything I’ve done to prepare myself, to bury the past, I was so sure I could ignore it.

His grip tightening further. I was sure, that I could ignore my promise… Master Seryu.

As Guhin strained under the hammer’s immense pressure, the chain around his neck shifted, revealing the amulet that hung against his chest. Myrkhos’ sharp eyes caught the movement, his gaze locking onto the medallion. It had a design of a holy man, his features surrounded by swirling pearls, the craftsmanship divine in its detail. But as Myrkhos’ eyes lingered, he narrowed his vision. Masked heads enclosed the holy figure from the sides, their sharp jaws open, as if they were trying to devour him.

The battlefield dissolved from his mind as he drifted to a memory buried deep within him. Far to the north of the world, where the snow-capped peaks pierced the heavens, there stood a temple of white marble, its towers reaching above the clouds.

Inside the temple, Myrkhos stood by a grand window. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, his figure framed by the endless expanse of clouds stretching into infinity. The light bathed him in a cold glow as he stared outward, his jaw clenched.

“What other option do we have?” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the stillness. His eyes narrowed, and his anger flared. “What else is there for you to do?!” He spun around, his fury blazing as he glared at the golden throne behind him.

Seated on the throne was a young man, he remained shrouded in shadow, the silk curtains draped above the throne casting his face in an ethereal darkness. His arms, encased in golden gauntlets, rested lightly on the armrests of the throne. Behind him, behind the throne, a massive silhouette took form within the shadows. The faint outline of a colossal, winged serpent, rippled across the white walls...

“Calm yourself, Myrkhos,” the man said, his voice calm but heavy with authority. “How about a little faith? Is that so much to ask?”

“Faith?” Myrkhos spat, his voice trembling with restrained rage. “You would risk everything on faith? Faith, you say, while your brother rots away up there because you haven’t acted!” His breathing grew ragged as his voice rose. “How long must I wait while you do nothing? You’ve left me with nothing... You know there is only one way—one! And if you won’t do it…” He turned abruptly, striding to the window. His eyes scanned the horizon, his fists trembling. “Then I will.”

His words were barely out before a gust of wind brushed past him. He froze. In an instant, the man on the throne stood beside him, leaving the curtains swaying in his wake. He wore an open white robe with wide sleeves, and a black pants with golden armored boots.

“Myrkhos…” the man said softly. “I know it’s been hard. Not just on me or my brother, but on you as well. And given that you are my general, I understand how you see it that way, how you, think that the end is near...”

The man reached out, his golden fingers gently gripping Myrkhos’ arm. “Trust me, I can handle this,” he continued. “I can fix it. So please…” His grip tightened slightly. “Promise me you won’t hurt him. Promise me, my general, that you won’t interfere..."

Myrkhos’ anger flared, his voice trembling with frustration. “Even if the entire world burns?”

“Yes,” the man responded simply. “Even if I fail.”

Myrkhos’ eyes widened, his jaw tightening. His teeth ground together as he paused for a moment. Finally, he shook his arm free of the golden grip, his gaze shifting toward the medallion hanging around the man’s neck, it had a design of a holy man, his features surrounded by swirling pearls.

After a long silence, Myrkhos spoke through gritted teeth. “I promise, my master. Seryu, Keeper of the Sky.”

“Good,” Seryu replied softly, returning to his throne. He seated himself once more, the shadows swallowing his form as the silk curtains shifted back into place.

The memory dissolved, the battlefield returning in a rush of sound. Lightning crackled in the sky as Myrkhos’ eyes were still locked on Guhin’s medallion. Suddenly, the shards of crystal at Guhin’s feet began to move. They hovered above the ground, quivering unnaturally before flying back toward the hammer.

The fragments melded seamlessly into its surface, the cracks vanishing as the hammer grew denser. Its weight pressed down harder, forcing Guhin’s knees to buckle slightly, his breath hissing through clenched teeth.

My promise to you ends here, Master Seryu, Myrkhos thought, his eyes narrowing. It ends along with your madness. Along with your delusion, your pointless hope that the past can somehow be reclaimed, that everything could return to what it was... No more. No more of this foolishness.

His grip tightened on the hammer. You shall toy with this world's fate. No more!

With a sharp exhale, Myrkhos locked eyes with Guhin. His gaze was no longer distant, he was focused now. He twirled the hammer in his palm with ease, forcing Guhin to lose his grip. His fingers slipped free, and he stumbled back, gritting his teeth.

“Tsk,” Guhin snarled, as he steadied himself.

“My promise,” Myrkhos muttered under his breath, “is over.”

Promise? Guhin’s mind reeled, the word sticking in his thoughts like a thorn. What promise?

Myrkhos slowly raised his hammer toward the sky, preparing for another attack. But Guhin didn’t move, he stood his ground, bracing himself for whatever was to come. Myrhos' eyebrow arched slightly as he observed Guhin’s determination.

"You were right," Myrkhos said, gripping the hilt of his weapon with both hands. His tone was calm, almost reflective. "I was holding back... but not for your sake." His eyes narrowed as he adjusted his stance.

"Begone," he commanded, as he brought the hammer down with a vengeance. The sheer force of the strike sent shockwaves through the air, the pressure of the impact blasting Bokun away right before he could reach his greatsword.

"You’ve got to be shitting me!" Bokun yelled, as he was thrown backward by the immense power.

Myrkhos' gaze widened once more as he saw the impossible—Guhin had stopped the hammer again. But this time, something else caught Myrkhos' eye. Two shadowy appendages shot out from Guhin's sides, bracing against the hammer. Their form barely solid, as though born of darkness itself. A living night.

When Myrkhos blinked, the shadows were gone, leaving only Guhin, trembling underneath his hammer as he resisted the attack. Myrkhos' brow furrowed. What was that?

He blinked again, questioning what he’d just seen. A trick of the light, perhaps... or was it real...

Guhin stretched his arms, forcing the hammer out of his line of sight as his gaze locked onto Myrkhos once more.

"I'm begging you…tell me..."

Myrkhos ignored him, his eyebrows twitching as Guhin’s question hung in the air. It wouldn’t matter if he said anything, it wouldn't change a thing. Myrkhos had made his decision. Guhin would die here and now, by his hands, and nothing, nothing, would stop him from doing that.

In a stern voice, Myrkhos said, "They told me you turned into a wild beast. I’m disappointed. I’d say, you’re well-mannered."

With those words, the hammer dissolved in Guhin’s grip, its once-solid form collapsing into a torrent of water that drenched him. As the weapon vanished, the rain returned, falling softly from the ashen sky. Myrkhos' regarded Guhin with a calm but calculating gaze.

"As I said. Strength alone, is never enough."

After he spoke, he extended his arm out in front of him, palm open, and the rain began to spiral toward it. The water gathered and condensed, gradually taking the shape of a sword, a one-handed weapon of crystalline design.

As soon as his newly formed weapon was complete, the atmosphere around him changed dramatically. The pressure he gave off intensified, bending every tree in the vicinity toward the ground as if bowing to his presence.

Suddenly, with a series of sharp cracks, all the pine trees in the area snapped off at the base simultaneously, crashing into the earth with a thunderous thud. In that same instant, Myrkhos vanished, his form disappearing into thin air.

GUHIN!