Ashenfall.
Even from a distance, danger warnings screamed in Baines's mind.
"First off, we didn't go extinct. Sure, we lost a lot, but we had moved before it happened."
"Then?" Baines's eyes widened.
"Yes, we are somewhere else."
"We?" Baines was surprised again and looked forward, "This storm…" Baines murmured, his body trembling.
The old man nodded. "This is us. Our life's work. Our greatest achievement and, our future."
Baines narrowed his eyes. 'Eye, what do you see?'
[EXTREMELY CONCENTRATED ENERGY]
'Of what?'
[AN ENERGY CREATED FROM THE COMBINATION OF MANA AND AURA]
Baines felt his breath hitch.
"Oh?" The old man smirked. "You understand now, don't you?"
The realization hit Baines like a tidal wave
Warriors cultivated aura. Mages absorbed mana. Divine beings wielded sacred power, which was said to be the pinnacle of energy.
But this…
'Eye, how does this compare to divine power?'
[AFTER COMBINATION, IT UNDERWENT A STRANGE MUTATION, SURPASSING DIVINE POWER]
Baines's eyes widened. "What…?"
The old man spread his arms. "While others train their aura or gather mana from the air, we created something beyond both and ignoring our known shame, we called it Ashenfall."
Baines remained silent.
Divine power. It was the hardest energy to attain, due to its closeness and faith to the related sacred being.
But this storm, 'Ashenfall' was even stronger than that.
The sheer implications of such power were staggering.
Still, something didn't add up. "This has nothing to do with me," he said flatly. "Why am I here?"
The old man smiled. "Why else? you are family."
Baines gave him a deadpan stare. "Please, just kill me already if—"
"Carla Ashen, only daughter of Alphen Ashen. Married John Baek, giving birth to Rokin, Ralph, Cecilia… and Baines Baek."
Baines's breath hitched. He hadn't heard his brothers' names in years.
His chest tightened. "What do you want?" he asked bitterly.
The old man sighed. "Soon, the Ashen family will rise again. And to ensure our future, we need a worthy successor."
Baines laughed dryly. "You say my mother is among you yet when her family was being slaughtered, where were you?" His voice cracked.
Silence.
The old man closed his eyes. He had no words to refute that, they were wrong in that aspect.
Then he spoke, his voice steady. "It's not too late."
Baines flinched.
"Why do you think no healer can wake your mother? It's because she chose that state."
"What?" Baines' voice shook.
The old man continued, "If you reach the highest level of Ashenfall, an energy stronger than divine power, what is your sister's injury to compare? If you become the successor, what is stopping you from using the family's power to find your father and brothers? And what is better than taking revenge with your own two hands?"
He pointed to the storm.
"As I said, this is the future. Now, will you take this offer?"
Baines trembled.
'Power.' That was the main reason he decided to leave his home.
The thought of his family in constant pain ached him deeply. 'Everyone. I am going to get revenge for you.' For his father, his mother, his sister, his brothers, the ruin of his home, and the betrayal.
Slowly, he clenched his fists.
"…Yes." He agreed to the offer.
...
The next day, Baines had finally resolved his complex emotions. If he had to summarize them in a single thought, it was this: he had to vow again.
The man who he later learned to be named Martos Ashen, became his instructor.
The name gave nothing else aside his name, and neither did Baines ask.
Instructor Martos wasted no time in drafting a six month training regime.
"In truth, you are far behind than others and that's why you have to get in shape first. Don't expect ease."
Baines listened. He wasn't expecting his training to be easy. He didn't know his enemies or their names, but what he did know was, they weren't weak.
In the morning, he began with sprinting around the throne room continuously until he dropped to boost his stamina.
In the afternoon, Martos taught him combat techniques. It was here that 'Eye' truly shone. Just by seeing a technique once, 'Eye' could perfectly copy it and transfer it to his brain.
All that remained was for his body and muscles to experience and adjust accordingly. Under three minutes, he mastered the basic techniques.
In the evening, he was trained his body and mind. All Martos had to do was release his energy on the young boy.
The routine continued over a month before a change was made. Baines was allowed to chose his weapon of choice.
Of course he chose the sword. After that, the scale of difficulty increased with each month.
Instead of running around the open throne room, he ran up and down the mountain. In the afternoon, he stopped fighting Martos and sent him down the mountain to face the Ruinborns.
They were the twisted creatures both of the ashen members remnants and from those who had come too close to the violent storm ignoring the fear.
Including losing their sense of self, their bodies were pitch-black, their forms irregular and grotesque, and their combat prowess all reset.
Beyond sharpening his combat prowess, Baines' body was also adapting to 'Ashenfall' for when he would begin to learn pratice the energy.
And in the night, the pressure Martos wafted increased by several degrees.
The regime continued in a blur until today which marked the end of the six months, training he set out for him.
Now Baines stood before Martos, his gaze sharp, and though his body was covered in bangage, it was fit and brimming with power.
'Incredible,' Martos commended.
Over the past six months, not once did Baines complain. Whether it was hard, nearly got him killed or not, he stood and took it all in. For some of it, he had to jump in to the rescue, and it wasn't a situation where Baines was in trouble.
No, it was that if he he had pushed his body further, it would have been disastrous. It almost felt like he didn't even care about his body.
He was aware revenge was his fuel, but this was beyond the drive. It was like every move, every step he made he remembered revenge, he did for revenge.
What he didn't know was that Baines was constantly living in that thought.
Then there was his learning speed. He absorbed techniques like a sponge, replicating them with ease. Not only that, his ability to use them in various situations. The training could have ended in three months as he had learned everything.
The extra three were just to give him more edge, and for the sake of his pride. How could he accept that a 12 year old finished his training regime half the completion time.