The silence that followed the explosion of the clash was not a silence of calm… but the gap a beast leaves before opening its jaws.
The black stones were cracked from the pressure, and the smell of burnt iron still trembled in the air. The zombies froze in place… as if something unseen was pulling their breaths backward.
The members of the Corpse Purification Faction stood at a distance, black blood circles glowing slowly around them, while their leader looked at the ground, then raised his eyes toward the boy lying among the rubble.
He spoke in a calm voice, free of fear even though his fingers were trembling: "This boy… is unlike any Blood Trainee I have ever seen."
His deputy stepped forward, his voice rough but his eyes narrowed with caution: "The wolves avoided him… and the zombies, who have no mind, retreated from him without an order." He paused, then added: "This is not a normal reaction. This is… a primitive instinct. Something in his blood inspires fear."
The leader stared at Ashen longer—at his dirt-covered, blood-stained body, and his red hair shining under the dying light. He said slowly, as if recalling an old memory: "I have met men in the Blood Warrior stage… some fought beasts that entire tribes could not survive." He turned to the groups behind him: "But never once have I felt my back shiver in front of a child… until today."
On the other side, the Blood Blade faction was staggering from exhaustion. Their leader, chest rising and falling with difficulty, wiped the blood from his mouth and said: "Something changed the moment the fight stopped… the air became heavier, as if the forest itself is holding its breath."
The leader of the Bloody Hands faction replied while pressing on a wound in his shoulder: "You feel it too… that tremor? As if something is watching us from inside the shadows."
The old man raised his head. He was pale from blood loss, but he spoke with the steadiness of someone who has seen too much: "True power… is not seen first. It is felt. This boy… even when he is not looking at us, his blood is moving. I feel like I am being watched… watched by a giant pair of eyes piercing through my body and my soul."
He stepped forward, his voice lowering like someone revealing a secret: "He is at the peak of the Blood Trainee stage… and that alone is terrifying." Then he looked at Ashen with the eyes of a man staring at a mythical creature in a cage: "But… there is something else. Something no Blood Trainee has. Something… ancient."
Silence fell. Not the silence of fear… but the silence of hunters realizing they might not be the hunters this time.
The Blood Blade leader said firmly: "We rest for a few minutes. If he wakes up, we help him or we run… whatever makes sense."
The Bloody Hands leader laughed briefly, a dry laugh like a stone cracking: "Run? From a child?"
Then the laugh stopped suddenly, as if something crawled through his bones. "…Maybe yes."
Here—exactly here—everything changed.
The forest shifted its wind. The ground trembled lightly, like a massive heartbeat under the stone. The petrified leaves shook. The air grew heavy… heavy enough to tighten the men's chests.
The Corpse Purification deputy whispered: "Did… you feel that?"
Everyone had felt it. But no one dared to answer.
The leader looked at Ashen… and for the first time, saw something that was not there seconds ago:
A faint shadow. Very weak. Trembling behind his body… like the shadow of another system, another power, another existence not yet awakened.
And yet they saw it. And seeing it alone was enough…
To make every man there hold his breath.
As if something in his blood… had begun to awaken.
The members of the other factions stepped back, searching for air in this unknown pressure. But the Corpse Purification men… did not step back.
Instead, their eyes grew brighter.
The leader ran his fingers over a black blood circle, and it glowed faintly like an ember waiting for breath. He spoke in a low tone, almost talking to himself:
"It's moving… not his body, but his blood."
The deputy approached, his hands covered in the faction's black marks, and spoke with strange fascination: "For blood to react this violently without consciousness… this is unusual even among royal bloodlines."
He looked at Ashen like a scholar watching a rare creature about to explode: "If he awakens in this state… it means the blood itself has a will."
The leader smiled coldly, without any trace of humanity: "And because the blood has a will… it means it can be broken. Or… stolen."
One of the soldiers behind them trembled but hid his fear, for their faction did not tolerate weakness. The leader spoke without turning:
"Remember… the world has room only for the strongest. And if we want to rise, we must devour what is stronger than us."
He raised his hand, and the blood circles around him lit up. A faint wave spread through the air, accompanied by a sound like living flesh breathing from beneath the ground.
"Prepare the zombies."
The men moved with the precision of surgeons, not soldiers. Every zombie moved according to thin red lines tied to boiling blood in the palms of the faction members.
The deputy said while watching Ashen with narrowed eyes: "Strange… even the giant aberration started reacting more the closer we get."
The leader replied: "Good. Aberrations are more sensitive to blood essence. If it senses danger, it means we are on the right path."
Then he raised his hands. A black runic circle formed above his head, shifting until it took the shape of a small, disturbing, disgusting eye.
The eye floated toward Ashen, stopping only a few steps away. Despite the violent pressure forming in the air, the leader did not back away.
He examined the boy's body closely and spoke in a low, cold voice:
"Power without a mind… is just a sacrifice. But power held by childhood… is a treasure that must not escape."
He inhaled deeply, as if smelling rare blood: "This boy… his blood is not entirely human."
The deputy frowned and asked: "What do you mean?"
The leader laughed—short, sharp, like metal scratching stone: "I don't know exactly… What I see is not blood a human should possess, but an ocean of blood… like the blood of an entire nation."
Then he raised his hand and gave the order:
"Release the aberration. Control circles… activate."
The ground shook, and the black circles rose slightly above the earth like rings trying to trap the monster.
The moment the energy surged—
The human faces on the aberration's head opened their mouths and screamed, shaking the air. Hundreds of human arms on its torso trembled like spears ready to strike.
But… something strange happened.
Before the monster could fully move, it looked at Ashen…
And stopped.
Not in fear. Not in hesitation.
But in recognition… that what was awakening inside this boy was greater than itself.
Still, the Corpse Purification leader said with arrogance: "If it hesitates for a moment, it is ours. Let it taste the anger of blood."
He did not give a clear signal. A small gesture of his hand… and hell opened.
"Go."
In the next moment, hundreds of zombies moved at once—teeth grinding, bones creaking, heavy steps… a silent wave of dead flesh rolling through the stone forest.
The rotten bodies rushed toward Ashen with surprising speed, their decayed limbs contracting and stretching like predators.
Behind them, the giant aberration shook violently. Its countless human arms trembled, then—
The ground split.
Around Ashen, the petrified soil exploded, and hundreds of blood-soaked arms burst out—twisted limbs with long fingers and veins pulsing with corrupted blood.
They shot forward, wrapping around Ashen's arms, legs, chest, and neck—pulling him toward the earth as if a creature was swallowing him alive.
One of the men shouted: "Those cursed arms… Should we help him?!"
But the three leaders remained still. Their faces emotionless. This was a world where only the strongest survived. What happened now… was part of the rules.
After a short silence, the old man spoke: "Honored leaders of Blood Blade and Bloody Hands… this boy is extremely strong. He follows the path of Blood Tempering and he is at the peak of the trainee stage. His physical strength should be around ten thousand kilograms. As for the giant aberration, it seems slightly higher. If we help the boy and distract the aberration with our spells, he will be able to land very powerful and destructive blows." He spoke like someone who had finally found hope in the middle of hell.
After a moment, the Blood Blade leader said: "Let's rest a few minutes to recover. We have been fighting for hours while he is lying there… and with his strength, he won't die easily. He will hold on for a long time."
"Fine, I agree," said the Bloody Hands leader.
"But—" Before the old man could finish, a blood-soaked howl rose. The giant wolf and the rest of the pack fled the stone forest.
In an instant, Ashen found himself completely alone, surrounded by hundreds of zombies and a giant twisted aberration that reminded him of the monsters he fought in the brutal trial—though far less terrifying.
"What fools. Even now they choose to retreat and test the boy's strength instead of uniting to fight."
"Truly, both factions are fools. That is why it was easy to deceive them, spread hatred, and ignite war between them."
The Corpse Purification faction mocked.
The giant aberration leaned forward, and a loud crack echoed, as if a massive skull was opening from the inside.
The single eye in its forehead began to glow.
Not just glow… but ignite. Concentrated bloody fire gathering in a black pupil.
The old man said quietly, even though he was not part of the attack: "This… is not a normal beam. It hit me earlier and it was terrifying." Then he added: "But this one is much stronger than the one that hit me."
As they watched, the air around the monster began to crack. Red heat lines formed, twisting like serpents of bloody flame.
Then—
Suddenly—
The beam fired.
A scream of light tore through the stone forest, a thin red beam ripping the air, erasing stones, shredding zombies, and rushing toward Ashen with speed that defeated sight and outran sound.
The Blood Blade leader took a sharp breath: "This will kill even a Blood Warrior in an instant…"
But what happened next did not match any logic.
Ashen did not move. He did not blink. He did not even look at the beam.
He stood there, being dragged by the arms, with hundreds of zombies approaching, and the monster firing its destructive energy—
Yet one feeling spread:
Calm. Unnatural. Inhuman.
Even the zombies charging toward him began slowing down, as if the air around the boy had become thick…
Or… deadly.
The Corpse Purification deputy whispered, voice trembling as he stared at the space around Ashen:
"Do… you see that? The air… is shrinking around him."
The leader replied in a deep voice, heavy like it came from under the earth: "No… that is not the air… That is fear."
And while the bloody beam carved its path without mercy—
No one knew that the moment of impact would not be the end.
It would be the beginning.