The world was nothing but a blur, a cruel joke that had stripped Ochieng of everything—his name, identity, and power.
For weeks, he wandered the slums of the city, surviving on scraps and rainwater. The once-mighty martial artist, feared and respected, was now a nameless beggar, shivering under tattered clothes.
But deep inside, something burned.
A fire.
A reminder that he wasn't meant to stay in the dirt.
And fate was about to awaken the demon within.
---
One rainy afternoon, Ochieng sat by the gates of an elite university—the same place where he had once walked as a student.
His fingers trembled as he held out a wooden bowl, hoping for a few coins to buy food.
Then—
CRASH!
His bowl was kicked away, coins spilling into the mud.
Laughter followed.
A group of wealthy students stood before him, mocking him like an insect.
"Look at this rat! Weren't you once a student here?" one of them sneered.
Another one spat near his feet. "Disgusting. Just die already."
Ochieng said nothing.
Not because he was weak.
But because he was waiting.
---
A grand martial arts competition was taking place at the university. Fighters from across the nation had gathered—each one hungry for glory and power.
And Ochieng…
He would rise from the ashes today.
A masked old man—mysterious and unreadable—approached Ochieng in the alley that night.
"I know who you are," the old man whispered.
Ochieng's eyes narrowed. "Then you should know I have nothing."
The old man only chuckled.
"No. You have everything. You just forgot who you were."
He tossed a small jade pendant into Ochieng's hands. The moment Ochieng touched it—
Memories flooded back.
His training. His battles. His hidden identity.
And most of all—his rage.
---
Just as he was preparing to re-enter the world of the strong, a familiar figure appeared.
Liana.
The woman who had poisoned him.
The tempting devil who had once whispered lies into his ears, leading to his downfall.
She smirked, stepping closer. "You're still alive. Impressive."
Ochieng didn't respond.
Liana leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "Do you want revenge? I can help you… for a price."
He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"I don't need help from a snake."
Liana laughed, unfazed. "Then I'll see you in the competition… if you survive."
And with that, she disappeared into the night.
Ochieng exhaled slowly.
Tomorrow… the world would tremble.
---
The next day, the Martial Arts Tournament began.
The stage was massive, surrounded by thousands of spectators. Young masters, noble heirs, and powerful fighters all gathered, eager to prove themselves.
And then—
A nameless contestant stepped onto the stage.
Dressed in rags, barefoot, with eyes colder than death itself.
Ochieng.
The crowd burst into laughter.
"A beggar is fighting?"
"This must be a joke!"
Even the referee hesitated. "You… you are here to fight?"
Ochieng nodded.
The announcer sighed and called his first opponent—a famed 2-Star Martial Master, clad in golden robes.
The fighter sneered. "I'll end this quickly."
He lunged—
But before anyone could react—
BAM!
Ochieng moved.
His fist met flesh, and the golden-robed master was sent flying across the stage, his bones shattering on impact.
Silence.
The entire arena froze.
The beggar… had just crushed a Martial Master in one hit.
And this was only the beginning.
---
The Road to the Peak
The tournament would continue.
More opponents. More challenges.
And Ochieng?
He would rise.
Not as a beggar.
Not as a forgotten student.
But as the Silent King.
And those who once mocked him…
Would soon beg for mercy.
---
The silence in the arena stretched for eternity.
A beggar—no, a nameless ghost from the past—had just obliterated a 2-Star Martial Master in a single blow.
The golden-robed master lay unconscious, his body twitching in agony.
Ochieng stood motionless, his ragged clothes fluttering in the breeze. His expression? Cold. Unforgiving.
Gasps filled the air.
The arrogant young masters, the noble elites—all were shaken.
"W-Who… is he?" someone murmured.
A sect elder, seated among the VIPs, narrowed his eyes. "That technique… Impossible. No beggar should possess such power."
But the truth was undeniable.
Ochieng was back.
And this was just the beginning.
---
In the audience, one man sat seething with rage.
Jaylen Huang.
A 4-Star Martial Master, a rising genius known for his devastating swordplay.
He had planned to dominate the tournament, to prove himself the strongest.
But now?
A mere nobody had stolen the spotlight.
Jaylen's fingers tightened around his sword.
"That bastard," he growled.
Beside him, a young beauty leaned closer. Liana.
She smirked, eyes gleaming with temptation and mischief.
"You look angry, Jaylen," she whispered.
Jaylen clenched his jaw. "He dares to humiliate us? I'll kill him."
Liana giggled. "Why not let me handle it?"
Jaylen turned to her, confused. "What do you mean?"
She traced a finger along his chest, her voice sweet as poison.
"Men fight with fists. Women… fight with the heart."
She glanced at Ochieng, who stood calmly in the ring.
"If you can't defeat him in battle… I'll destroy him from within."
Jaylen smirked. "Do as you please."
But inside?
He was burning with jealousy.
This beggar would regret ever stepping into the light.
---
As Ochieng prepared to leave the stage, the announcer's voice boomed.
"Wait! We have a challenger!"
The crowd gasped.
From the VIP section, a man leaped into the air—his presence shaking the entire stadium.
A figure dressed in midnight-black robes, his sword gleaming like a frozen moon.
The Second Prince.
A Peak Martial Master.
The arena erupted.
"The prince himself?!"
"This isn't a fair fight!"
Ochieng remained expressionless.
The prince's voice rang out, sharp as a blade. "Beggar, fight me."
The referee hesitated. "Y-Your Highness, this is against the rules—"
"Silence." The prince's aura exploded, nearly suffocating the weaker spectators.
Ochieng sighed.
A peak-level opponent… so soon?
Fine.
He cracked his knuckles.
"I accept."
---
The moment the match began—
BOOM!
The prince vanished.
Ochieng's eyes flashed.
Left—
A blade sliced through the air, inches from his neck.
Right—
A second strike, even faster.
The crowd barely kept up.
"His Highness is too fast!"
"Even a Martial Master can't block those attacks!"
But—
CLANG!
Ochieng raised a single finger, stopping the sword mid-swing.
The prince's eyes widened.
Impossible.
Ochieng smirked.
"My turn."
BAM!
One palm strike.
The prince flew backward, slamming into the ground—coughing blood.
The entire arena fell silent.
A Peak Martial Master… defeated with one move.
This was no ordinary fighter.
This was a monster.
---
Ochieng stepped forward, looking down at the prince.
His voice was calm.
"I have no interest in ruling. No interest in fame."
He knelt beside him, voice dropping to a whisper.
"But if you come after me again… I'll break you."
The prince shuddered.
This was not an ordinary martial artist.
This was a King hidden in the shadows.
And the world…
Was about to remember his name.
---