Chapter 2 – New life
As the first rays of sunlight rose above the horizon, Imre's patience finally ran out. Unease settled deep in his chest, growing heavier with every passing moment
Imre made his decision and headed toward his parents' home. He took the map from the table, folded it carefully, and secured it before leaving. After eating a small portion of the dried meat from the day before, he climbed down from the tree-house and stepped onto the forest floor.
He did not fully understand the map, but he knew enough. Relying on memory rather than markings, he followed the path he had taken before, moving with quiet determination.
Imre was walking through the forest.
What could have happened to them?
Finding his way alone through the woods unsettled him. Maybe this is another trial from Father, like yesterday's. He slowed his steps, forcing himself to stay alert.
Yet doubt crept in. His father never broke his promises. Should I have waited longer?
Hira's words came clearly in his mind:
"Your word is the way of your life. If you speak of doing something, it becomes a promise. Break it, and you lose everything—your honor, your place, even your life as a man."
Remembering that, Imre straightened his back and continued forward.
He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds had already swallowed it whole.
When he reached the clearing, his steps came to a halt.
Ashes covered the ground. Before him stood the blackened remains of three yurts—once sturdy circular tents, now reduced to charred frames and scattered debris.
Imre walked around them slowly, his voice breaking as he called out:
"Dad…?"
"Mom…?"
"Uncle Rin…?"
"Uncle Fador…?"
No answer came.
A cold wind swept through the clearing as rain began to fall.
Then he saw them.
Three graves stood not far from the ruins.
A sharp chill ran down his spine. His arms prickled with goosebumps as he stumbled forward—only to freeze in place.
There were eleven graves all.
Four of them were marked with large stones at the head.
Imre's breath caught. His mind and intstincts was telling him "they are dead"
"No… no… no…" His voice broke. "This isn't real. This has to be a dream."
Rain streamed down his face, mixing with tears as he forced himself to read the first name carved into stone.
Rinart Juder.
His knees weakened. He moved to the next grave, hands trembling.
Milasa Sorena.
"No… Mom…"
The world tilted. Imre collapsed into the mud, his chest tight with despair.
He crawled forward, fingers brushing another stone. The letters were incomplete.
F–E–D…
"Fedor Labram…"
A broken scream tore from his throat. "Please… please wake me up!"
Rain hammered down as he dragged himself to the final grave. The name was clear.
Hira Sorena.
"DAD!"
Without thinking, Imre clawed at the earth with his bare hands. Mud packed beneath his nails, rain soaking him to the bone, but he didn't stop.
he started yelling, "you promised me to come back"
"you said they will come tommorow"
"you are the one who tought me to never lie, you are the one who thought me to keep my every word as promise."
Heavy rain poured from the sky, soaking his clothes and turning the earth beneath his feet into thick mud. He dug until he reached the bottom of the grave, his trembling hands brushing against the familiar fabric of his father's clothes. Sharp stones sliced into his bare palms, but he paid no attention to the blood mixing with the rain and soil.
Desperately, he cleared away the dirt until his father's face came into view. His breath broke as he whispered, "And you're the one who dares to break your promise… by dying."
The strength left his body, and he collapsed, fainting beside the grave.
Two Days Later
The small wooden room was warm and quiet, lit by firelight from a stone hearth. Dried herbs hung from the beams, and simple clay bowls and baskets lined the shelves. A low bed rested against the wall beneath a small window. The scent of smoke and herbs filled the air, making the space feel humble, lived-in, and safe.
Imre awoke. His head throbbed, and his body felt heavy.
Where am I?
What happened?
Trying to remember things, can not clear his mind.
Moments later, the door opened.
A man entered—middle-aged, broad-shouldered, with a thick beard and sharp black eyes, wrinkles on his jaw. He wore dark, fitted travel clothes marked with faint, worn patterns, a wide belt securing the layers at his waist. A short cloak rested over one shoulder, heavy and practical, while sturdy boots and bracers hinted at constant battle and movement. His clothes marked him as a warrior, though he carried no visible weapon.
He sat across from Imre.
"My name is Ladin," he said. "I am of the Bat Tribe. You are in our village. We mean no harm, feel free and rest well"
His gaze hardened slightly.
"Are you the son of Hira Sorena?"
Imre remained silent. Thinking do i have to answer or not.
"Yesterday, our scouts were patrolling the forest, They found you unconscious among the graves."
He paused.
"We brought you here."
"I knew your father," Ladin said. "Hira Sorena of Nirvana City. A Mighty warrior - whose name carried weight—even beyond his tribe."
Imre's chest tightened.
Bat Tribe…
He had heard of them only in fragments—people of the night, hunters who relied on silence, patience, and perception more than brute strength.
Ladin's voice cut through his thoughts.
"You had been digging at the graves with your bare hands," he said quietly. "If our scouts had arrived later, you would not have survived the night and be eaten by animals."
Silence filled the room.
"You may remain here as long as you want" Ladin said. "While reasting here to fullly recover, you may decide."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Swear allegiance to the Bat Tribe we will make you great warrior, or choose any path you want"
Ladin stood and turned toward the door.
"My name is Imre," the boy said.
Ladin stopped.
"I am Imre," he continued, lifting his head. "Son of Hira Sorena."
Ladin looked at him for a long moment.
"Thanks for bringing me here and offering new life here. i have a questions about my families death"
By looking at boy, his speaking and how he holding himself calmly, Ladin already undrstand this is not a boy but a man who grow up already.
"Training does not begin immediately," he said. " Recover. Learn how we live. we will teach you about world and your families history"
He left without another word.
---
A few minutes later, another boy walked into the room.
The boy was around eight years old, with dark hair and sharp green eyes. His jawline was unexpectedly defined for his age, giving him an air of quiet strength. There was a natural confidence in his bearing, as though that he was the son of someone powerful.
"So you're Imre," he said. "The kid from Nirvana Kingdom."
Imre didn't answer. He just stared at him.
The boy frowned.
"Hey. Are you ignoring me or what?"
Then his voice got louder.
"You know you almost died, right? Why were you digging up graves like that? Are you crazy?"
Imre's hands clenched. His voice trembled.
"why do you care"
The boy paused.
"Oh," he said.
"So you can talk."
He scratched his head.
"I'm Arlan. Ladin Dur's son."
He walked over, picked up a bowl, and shoved it toward Imre.
"Eat."
"if you don't eat, you stay weak, i don't like weaklings to be around me"
Imre didn't move.
Arlan crossed his arms.
"i said I don't like weak people," he said. "If you're weak, nobody even cares about you. Not your friends. Not enemies."
He pointed at the soup.
"It's not poison."
Imre took the bowl but didn't drink yet.
"…What do you know about the Honeybadger Tribe?" he asked quietly.
Arlan blinked, then laughed a little.
"Honeybadger people, they are ones who built Nirvana Kingdom from Nirvana City, thay are people with strong resistant to posion, sturdy body, strong muscles, fast, and no fear in their eyes even when they face Jörmungandr alone"
He shook his head.
"we don't know yet you are one of pure blood or not."
He turned toward the door
and left.
End of Chapter 2