A few moments ago…
Zorayel stood still as his staff own staff started to materialize in his hand.
He stared at the weapon, memories surfacing uninvited.
A few years ago…
Eldrick and Zorayel sat quietly inside Eldrick's house.
"This staff is yours from now on," Eldrick said, placing it gently into Zorayel's hands. "Use it to help others."
Zorayel held the staff with both hands, his grip trembling—not from fear, but from responsibility.
"Yes, Master," he said firmly.
Present time…
"You absorbed the Divine Staff," Dareth said, his voice cold with disappointment,
"and you choose to fight me with that scrap?"
"This staff was given to me by my master," Zorayel replied calmly.
"Hmph," Dareth scoffed. "Then let me see what that old man taught you."
"Demon Art: Hell's Assault."
At his command, the dark entities surged forward, shrieking as they rushed towards Zorayel from every direction.
Zorayel tightened his grip and stepped forward.
He used his staff like a blade—striking, blocking, weaving through the entities with precision. Sparks of divine mana clashed violently against dark essence.
"Divine Art: Divine Light."
A glowing spear formed high in the sky, radiating pure white light. From it, streaks of brilliance descended like lightning, tearing through the dark entities and reducing them to nothingness.
"Divine Art: Eruption."
At the tip of Zorayel's staff, a massive sphere of condensed mana began to form. With a roar, he released it.
A colossal beam surged toward Dareth.
The area around the Dark Throne twisted, warping like a vision of hell itself.
The moment the attack entered the throne's domain, a dark barrier manifested—blocking the beam completely.
Dareth didn't even move.
Zorayel clenched his teeth and charged forward, fury overtaking reason.
As soon as he stepped into the throne's territory…
His flesh began to burn.
Zorayel cried out and leapt backward, barely escaping the area. Smoke rose from his scorched skin.
"Foolish," Dareth said calmly. "To think you could step into the Dark Throne's domain."
Zorayel steadied his breath, eyes blazing.
"Divine Art: Eruption."
Seven divine spears formed around the throne, all of them aimed inward.
"That won't work," Dareth said, standing unfazed. "You can't penetrate the throne's shield."
Zorayel raised his staff.
"Divine Art: Divine Eruption." A single, massive spear materialized directly above the throne.
The seven spears shot forward—not at the throne, but into the massive spear itself.
The large spear absorbed them all, its light intensifying until it roared like a star collapsing.
Then, It struck.
The explosion shook the chamber.
When the light faded, the throne stood… untouched.
"You can summon the Divine Staff," Dareth said, shaking his head in disappointment, "but you are still a weakling."
Then… Crack.
Dareth froze.
A sharp sound echoed through the chamber.
He looked down.
A thin crack had formed on the Dark Throne.
Small. Barely visible.
A tiny fragment broke off and fell to the ground.
"…You impress me," Dareth said slowly.
The throne dissolved into dark energy and flowed into Dareth's body.
"Now," he said, dark mana surging violently around him, "let's see what else my father taught you."
A few years ago…
Dusk had fallen, and the rain poured relentlessly from the sky.
Beneath a tree near Eldrick's house, a boy sat curled into himself in a fetal position. Knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his head. The tree offered little protection. Rain slipped through the leaves, soaking him to the bone.
Eldrick was passing by when he noticed the boy.
For a moment, he stopped.
The sight stirred a painful memory. His son, Davi, had been the same age.
"What are you doing here?" Eldrick asked gently.
The boy didn't respond.
"If you don't have anywhere to go," Eldrick continued after a pause, "my house is up the hill. You can come there."
The boy didn't look up.
Eldrick waited a moment longer… then turned and walked away.
The boy didn't move.
Later that night…
A soft knock echoed through Eldrick's house.
He opened the door and saw the boy standing there. Head turned slightly away, refusing eye contact. He was drenched, rainwater dripping from his hair and clothes onto the floor.
"Come in," Eldrick said without hesitation.
The boy stepped inside.
Eldrick handed him a towel. "Dry yourself."
Then he placed a bowl of hot soup on the table. "Eat."
The boy stared at the bowl for a long moment, as if unsure whether it was real.
Then he began to eat. Fast, desperate. Soup splashed onto the table as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful, like someone who hadn't eaten in days.
When the bowl was empty, Eldrick asked, "How was it?"
The boy quietly pushed the bowl forward, still looking away, asking for more without saying a word.
Eldrick chuckled softly and took the bowl. He didn't say anything. He simply refilled it.
Afterward, Eldrick showed him a room.
"This used to be my son's room," Eldrick said quietly.
The boy froze for a moment.
"You can stay here for the night," Eldrick added.
The boy nodded.
The next morning…
Eldrick went to check the room.
It was empty. The boy left without saying anything.
A few hours later…
Eldrick sat with the town chief who was in his early age, sharing a simple meal.
"Did the boy take anything?" the town chief asked.
"No," Eldrick replied. "He didn't seem like a thief."
"People do anything to survive," the chief said.
Later that afternoon…
Eldrick returned home and stopped in his tracks.
In front of his door, neatly placed on large leaves, was bird meat, freshly hunted.
Eldrick frowned, then glanced around.
"…Was it that boy?" he muttered.
Raising his voice, he said, "If you stole this, I won't take it."
There was no response.
Unseen, Zorayel watched from a bush at a distance- silent, unmoving.
After a moment, Eldrick sighed, picked up the meat, and went inside.
The next day…
The same thing happened.
"I know you're listening," Eldrick said calmly, without looking around. "You don't need to do this every day."
Zorayel listened from the bushes.
He didn't step out.
A few days later…
Eldrick and the town chief were eating together again.
"Did that boy leave meat at your door again?" the chief asked.
"My house is overflowing with bird meat," Eldrick replied dryly.
The chief chuckled. "That boy thinks he owes you his entire life."
Eldrick leaned back, thoughtful.
"But where is he even getting all these birds?" he asked quietly.
Same day, at Zorayel's side…
Zorayel hid quietly within a thick bush. His breathing was slow, controlled.
On a nearby tree branch, two birds rested peacefully.
He pulled back the leather of his slingshot, carefully aiming.
Thwip.
One bird fell instantly. The other startled and tried to fly away…
Thwip.
The second bird dropped to the ground.
Zorayel rushed forward and grabbed both birds before anything else could take them. He was about to leave when he heard voices
Someone was talking deeper in the woods.
Zorayel crouched low and moved silently toward the sound.
"…Are we attacking tonight?" one voice asked.
"Yes," another replied.
"We'll kill that old man in his sleep," a third said casually.