"Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishment." – Jim Rohn
The months that followed marked a period of tremendous growth for both Azar and the tribes connected to him. Beginning the very next day and continuing for three full months, Azar personally trained the people of the Mirha tribe, holding large gatherings each morning where he taught them The Way of the Sand.
His wisdom answered many of their burning questions, guiding them on the path of Avos and helping them choose their own directions in life. Many experienced breakthroughs, finally overcoming the barriers that had held them back for years. But the change extended beyond just their cultivation practices—there was a shift in the structure and order of the tribe itself.
When Araumir returned, Parash was tied to a pillar in a secluded area of the tribe. Restrained by chains that suppressed his flux, he endured two grueling weeks without food, surviving only on water and a bitter potion designed to cleanse his body and energetic centers. There were easier, less painful ways to treat his condition, but Azar had chosen the harshest method to punish Parash for his insolence.
With the help of the Calabi, more than half of the Sarabi tribe relocated to the region discovered by Araumir. After crafting the Heart-Revealing Crystal from a Truth Crystal stolen from a sect’s mine, Araumir exacted punishment on the Sarabians. Eighty-three of them were fed to the beasts in his stomach—retribution for their evil intentions or acts of espionage.
Mohul, having made a full recovery, immediately began documenting Azar’s teachings, preserving them for future generations. He believed this would prevent the tribe’s descendants from wasting years of their lives, struggling with the same questions and wrong paths that had burdened the current generation.
As decided back after the Void Storm, Kaira became Azar's apprentice, learning techniques and knowledge she could never have accessed on her own. While this filled her with joy, it also brought more challenges than she had anticipated.
Azar, too, continued his relentless training. Day and night, he practiced both martial arts and flux control, steadily restoring his body to a functional state. With each passing day, more of his past memories returned as his connection to his soul deepened. After nearly two months of intense training, Azar successfully integrated both the Chaos and Order elements within his body, though the process took longer than expected. Near the end of this period, he also ascended to the next rank, becoming a 1-Star Bellator, and at the end of the three months, Azar had successfully ascended to become a 3 Stars Bellator.
Advancing to the Bellator Class allowed him to project his flux outside his body and work toward awakening his bloodline. However, it also posed a new challenge: many of his old techniques were now incompatible with his newly integrated elements, forcing him to seek new methods of mastery.
. . .
Three Months Later
"Master?" Kaira whispered as she carefully entered the tent. Tiptoeing forward, she playfully approached the pile of hides where Azar lay in meditation.
"Is it already daybreak?" Azar asked in a rough, morning voice, his eyes still closed.
Kaira paused, a little disappointed that her master was already awake. "Yes, the tribe is waiting for you at the gates," she replied.
Without missing a beat, Azar rose to his feet.
"It seems Master is not sleeping as deeply as this student," Kaira teased, a smile on her lips. "To be able to wake up so early is not something that i can easily achieve."
"Sleep?" Azar echoed, momentarily confused as he looked around for something to cover himself with. The morning chill pierced his flesh mercilessly. "Sleep is merely a state of deep rest, a time when the connection to the other world grows stronger, allowing the soul to draw energy from there. Every fiber and organ in the body has its own energetic field, which gets depleted with use. Rest is essential to replenish that energy."
He continued as he wrapped himself in a cloak, "But consciousness is not entirely tied to the brain. We can remain aware and even train while the body and mind rest."
"Are you saying, Master, that you can train in your sleep?" Kaira asked, her voice sharp with curiosity.
"Exactly. If we spend six to eight hours a day doing nothing but sleeping, isn’t that a waste? Most people sleep without understanding its full potential, which is why many suffer from restless nights, plagued by troubling dreams or disruptive thoughts. Their bodies contract, leaving them with even less energy in the morning. I experience none of this. In fact, I feel refreshed after a night of training."
"Master, with my current understanding, I am in no position to question you," Kaira said respectfully, bowing her head. "Were you born with this ability, or is there a technique for it?"
"I wasn’t born with it. I made myself this way through discipline and training," Azar replied, his tone firm. "Some may be born with special abilities, but I was not one of the fortunate few. Everything I’ve achieved has been earned. Even my ‘luck.’" He paused, then glanced at her. "Why? Do you wish to learn how to train in your sleep?"
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"If it’s possible, I’d love to. It would increase my growth even faster," Kaira said, her voice full of determination.
"I can teach you the technique to astral project your consciousness outside your body. But be warned—without an ability card, it will take years of training. And to achieve it, you’ll have to face your darkest self—the part of you shaped by every thought, emotion, and action from this life and the lives before. You were terrified when I tried to hypnotize you to retrieve memories from your past life. I don’t recommend wasting your time with astral projection right now. Perhaps, when you’re stronger, I’ll teach you. But for now, your mind and heart are not ready for the backlash."
Kaira shivered, recalling the terrifying moment when she had glimpsed a fragment of her past life. "I will heed Master’s advice."
"Come," Azar instructed, stepping out of the tent.
. . .
“Tell the Sand Crawler squad they can get up. They’ve yet to reach the level where they can endure the burning sand,” Azar commanded, his voice steady and firm.
Araumir howled the order, and with burn marks on their skin, the forty-seven men lifted themselves from beneath the scorching sand, struggling to their feet. The hot grains that had seeped into their clothes slowly fell away as they dragged themselves toward the resting point. These warriors had endured the longest—endurance being their primary purpose as Sand Crawler warriors.
“This concludes today's training,” Azar declared, rising from his seated position atop a large rock. His voice carried over the weary men, firm yet proud. “You have all done well. Each of you has proven worthy to walk the path of the ancient warriors. A true warrior is not someone who goes to war, but someone with the discipline to train daily. A true warrior shapes themselves with every action, becoming stronger than they were yesterday, more controlled in spirit, and calmer in the face of adversity."
He looked over the tired faces of the Mirha tribe, and a wide grin spread across his face. "You all look like this after every session with me. I imagine you’re quite happy this is the last day under my command.”
“No, Azar Syed, how can you say that?” one man stood up, his voice hoarse but respectful. “We may be tired, but we are grateful for your guidance and care.”
“We are grateful for your teachings and training!” another voice echoed from the group.
One by one, the warriors of the Mirha tribe rose to express their gratitude, their voices filled with pride and respect for the one who had helped them grow stronger.
“As you all know,” Azar began again, his voice drawing everyone's attention, “today I will leave with the caravan, bound for the kingdom. After today, like the Calabi and Sarabi tribes, you will be under Araumir’s command. I expect you will no longer have the luxury of laziness, as Araumir is not as forgiving as I am. Using his own methods, he will push you to discover your true potential and the power that lies within. But, be warned—he will also make you hate him. You will curse the day he took over. Yet, I ask you to endure, to follow his commands, and trust him, for he only pushes you for your own good.”
And because he enjoys seeing you suffer, Azar thought to himself with an inward chuckle.
“The rise of the Mirha does not rely on outside forces, but on you, the people,” Azar continued. “The rise of the Mirha is near, and in your lifetime, this tribe will reign over the desert. For that day, and to protect your land and future generations, you must continue training. When you lift a cup to your lips, do so consciously, training your coordination. When you walk, train your breath, even in the smallest of tasks. When you work, train your body, sharpen your focus. Always be aware of your surroundings, no matter what you’re doing.”
“Yes, Syed!” Khaleb responded loudly, his voice filled with conviction.
“Turn every action into training,” Azar urged. “Even when you make love to your wife, or when the women are with their husbands, love with your body, spirit, and mind fully engaged. When you fight an enemy, fight to win. When you kill, strike as swiftly and cleanly as a blade cutting through hide. When you need to regroup, push past your obstacles with strength and determination. When you ambush the enemy, let them believe the very desert has turned against them.”
Azar's voice grew firmer as he reached his final words. “I want to see the day when everyone in this desert fears the name of the Mirha, and all tribes wish to be your allies rather than your enemies. That day is worth living for. It’s worth sweating and bleeding for.”
“Azar Syed speaks the truth!” Mohul shouted from the crowd. “Our tribe will reclaim its forgotten glory. We will stand proudly and drink at the table of our ancestors when we meet them in the afterlife. No longer will we fear for our women and children. No longer will we dread the return of our husbands, nor the threats from other tribes, or the beasts of the desert. We will write the history of this desert—a history with our names etched into it!”
“Jahu!” Khaleb roared, his voice carrying through the air.
“Jahu!” Mohul responded, his son’s call reverberating through the hearts of the Mirha people. One by one, they all began to chant, their voices uniting in a powerful echo across the drifting dust: “Jahu!”
Tariq, who had once led the tribe, stood among the people, his stiff body trembling from the sheer force of emotion and the vibrations of their voices. He was proud—proud to see the people he once led so united. As he watched the children chant alongside their parents, a deep sense of peace settled over him. He was grateful—grateful to have lived long enough to witness such a day, a day that would mark a new beginning for the desert tribe known as Mirha.
Azar glanced toward Tariq, and sensing his gaze, Tariq bowed his head in silent respect. Azar nodded in acknowledgment, before turning away and stepping down from the stone. His expression shifted from joy to seriousness in an instant as he walked alongside Araumir.
“I’ll leave the matters of the tribes in your hands,” Azar said.
“I will meet your expectations, even if I don’t approve of your plan,” Araumir replied, his tone hard.
“Don’t be a fool,” Azar admonished. “You enjoy having subordinates, don’t you? This is your chance. Form the alliance of the tribes, create a power of your own. It will feed your ego and, in doing so, free you from it. You can’t always be there to protect me. You’ll hinder my growth if you do. We’ll build our base here in the desert, and the work you do with the tribes will form the foundation of everything we’ll create in the future. Make sure that foundation is strong and loyal, so it doesn’t crumble later. Be resourceful. The desert holds everything you need if you know where to look. I’ll also send people and materials when I reach a certain point.”
“You can rest assured, Master, that I will do everything in my power to please you,” Araumir said. His voice softened slightly, though it carried an ominous weight. “But if, for some reason, you die… I’ll have no reason to remain on this planet. I couldn’t care less about these people or what happens to them.”