The war had begun.
At dawn, **Vinay's forces struck.** A wave of **ruthless warriors, assassins, and war beasts** stormed Goodie Hunters' outer defenses, clashing with the front-line soldiers. The battlefield became a chaotic storm of steel, fire, and blood.
The air reeked of **burning flesh, blood-soaked soil, and the metallic scent of death.** Screams echoed across the land as men fell—some in combat, some ambushed before they could even react.
But for those watching from the higher ranks, **the true battle had yet to begin.**
**Ryan Jim, Dain, and Elyas stood amidst the chaos, but did not engage.**
They watched, analyzing, calculating. **They were commanders, the highest.** Their role was to observe, to understand **Vinay's tactics** before striking at the right moment.
Dain's hands tightened into fists. **He had fought countless battles, yet today, something felt different.**
And then—**he saw him.**
Standing at the edge of the battlefield, commanding Vinay's warriors **with just his presence—**
**Rudra.**
Dain's breath caught. His **vision blurred.**
Suddenly, memories **surged into his mind.**
A battlefield from 5 years ago.
A **warrior—a monstrous man, taller than any soldier, stronger than any beast.** He had laid waste to an entire army with a single hand, a **force beyond comprehension.**
Dain had been **just a soldier then.** He had watched as **his comrades were erased from existence,** their bodies burned to ash **by an inextinguishable black fire.**
And then—**Rudra had stepped forward.**
_"This is your end,"_ the monster had growled.
Rudra had merely **stared.**
_"No,"_ he had replied softly. **"This is yours."**
And then, without **a single chant, without a single sign—**
**The black flames had appeared.**
**Engulfing. Consuming. Erasing.**
The monstrous warrior had **screamed,** his body reduced to nothing but cinders within moments.
Dain had watched in shock, in horror, in awe.
_"What… was that…?"_ he had whispered.
Rudra had turned, his **expression unreadable.**
_"You were never meant to see this."_
Dain **staggered back.**
His eyes locked onto Rudra, who stood **exactly the same as he had that day—calm, composed, untouchable.**
_"He's… here,"_ Dain muttered under his breath.
Ryan Jim and Elyas glanced at him. **"What?"**
Dain swallowed hard. **"We can't win if he fights."**
But Rudra did not move.
Instead, his eyes **swept across the battlefield.**
And in the distance, standing upon the high walls of the Goodie Hunters' stronghold, **another pair of eyes met his.**
**Manav.**
Manav **stood on the balcony, arms crossed, watching the battlefield unfold.**
He did not move. He did not issue commands.
His generals were confused.
_"My lord, should we join the battle?"_ one of them asked.
Manav did not turn. **His gaze remained locked onto Rudra.**
_"Not yet,"_ he said. **"Vinay hasn't joined. I will not fight a war where the king does not step onto the field."**
His mind drifted **fifteen years into the past.**
The ruins of the temple lay in complete **silence**. The wind howled softly, carrying the scent of **burnt flesh and old blood.**
Manav walked through the devastation, his presence **cold, calculated, detached.** **He did not react to the bodies** scattered around him—charred corpses, lifeless figures slumped against the temple walls.
This was not the work of ordinary killers.
Then, he **felt it.**
A presence—deep, still, **unshaken.**
Not fear. Not rage. Just... **existence.**
His crimson eyes flickered toward the temple's **inner sanctum.** Something—or rather, **someone**—was inside.
A survivor? No.
Manav stepped forward, his expression unreadable.
Inside, amidst the wreckage, **stood a boy.**
Dark-haired. Barefoot. Blood-streaked.
**Twelve years old.**
He was surrounded by **bodies**, but he was not trembling. **He was not crying.**
He just **stood there**, silent, as if he had already processed this destruction and discarded it.
Manav studied him.
This wasn't a lost child.
This was something **else.**
A void in human form.
Manav's voice was quiet but sharp. **"Did you do this?"**
The boy **slowly** turned to him.
His eyes were dark, but there was **nothing behind them.**
Not fear. Not regret.
Not even **hatred.**
Only **emptiness.**
The silence stretched between them. Then the boy finally spoke. **His voice was calm. Too calm.**
**"Get lost."**
Manav didn't react.
He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He simply **tilted his head slightly, observing.**
**"You're alone."** His tone was not mocking, nor sympathetic. Just a **statement of fact.**
The boy didn't reply.
**"No one is coming for you."**
Still no reaction.
Manav's gaze flickered to the **blackened ground beneath the corpses.** Burnt to nothingness. Not fire, not magic—something **far more absolute.**
**Erasure.**
Interesting.
He took a step closer. **The air grew colder.**
Manav's voice remained steady, unreadable. **"You think they deserved it?"**
The boy's expression didn't change. **"They were in my way."**
A simple answer. A **truth without hesitation.**
Manav nodded slightly, as if accepting it.
Then, he crouched slightly—just enough to make direct eye contact.
**"You're strong."** His voice dropped just a little, into something **quieter, sharper.** "But strength alone means nothing."
The boy didn't answer.
Manav leaned in slightly. **"You don't want to be alone, Rudra. No one does."**
There.
A flicker.
Not of emotion, not of weakness—but **recognition.**
A shadow of **something** buried deep inside the boy's mind.
Manav knew this type. The ones who had convinced themselves they needed **nothing.**
That was a lie. A lie told so often, it started to feel real.
But deep down, **it wasn't.**
And Manav was a master at unraveling such **lies.**
**"You don't have to be weak,"** he continued, voice smooth, **"but you don't have to be alone either."**
Still, the boy didn't speak.
Manav simply watched. **Waited.**
The silence dragged on.
Then—
**"Leave."**
Flat. **Unshaken.**
Manav blinked once.
Then, he **stood up.**
He didn't argue. He didn't insist.
**He simply turned around.**
And before stepping away, he spoke one last time.
**"You'll call for me one day."**
His tone was not hopeful. Not threatening.
It was simply a **fact.**
Then, without another word, **Manav walked away.**
And behind him, Rudra **watched.**
Still, **silent, unreadable.**
But for the first time in his life…
He remembered **someone's voice.**
_"Let's see if your power is still earned, Rudra."_
As Goodie Hunters pushed back Vinay's first wave, a **new figure stepped onto the battlefield.**
A **warrior clad in black and silver armor, a massive halberd in hand.**
His presence alone made both sides **pause.**
Ryan Jim narrowed his eyes. **"Who is that?"**
Elyas exhaled. **"Arhaan."**
_"One of Vinay's commanders."_
Arhaan was **not like Rudra.**
Rudra was **a ghost, a legend, a mystery.**
But Arhaan? **He was a monster in plain sight.**
- **Feared for his brutality.**
- **Known for breaking armies single-handedly.**
- **A commander who did not just strategize—he fought, slaughtered, conquered.**
With a single step, Arhaan raised his halberd—
And **swung it across the battlefield.**
**A shockwave erupted.**
Goodie Hunters lowest commanders **were sent flying.**
The war had now **truly begun.**
As Arhaan **carved through enemy ranks,** Goodie Hunters level commanders **stepped forward to stop him.**
- **Commander Lior, a master spearman, dashed into battle.**
- **Commander Risa, a wind mage, sent storms cutting through Vinay's forces.**
- **Commander Farid, a berserker, charged with an axe dripping in blood.**
But **none could match Arhaan.**
With a single hand, he **disarmed Lior.**
With a flick of his halberd, he **sent Risa crashing into a wall.**
With a brutal kick, he **shattered Farid's ribs.**
Blood coated the battlefield.
_"Is this all Goodie Hunters has to offer?"_ Arhaan sneered.
And then—**Elyas moved.**
For the first time, he drew his twin daggers, stepping onto the battlefield.
_"I was waiting for a real fight,"_ he muttered.
Arhaan smirked. **"Then fight me."**
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