"Don't let him escape! We must kill him today!"
The frantic shouts of unseen figures echoed across the void, melding with the anguished roars of beings caught in a struggle. The sound was overwhelming, bouncing off nothingness, as if the very air was alive with fury and dread.
"Haaaaaaa!"
Alex floated, his body adrift in the blackness, weightless like a drifting leaf. The expanse around him was suffocating, yet still—no wind, no air, no warmth. Only the chilling bite of silence.
'Where am I?' The question reverberated in his mind, but the answer was elusive. His thoughts felt fragmented, as if his very sense of self was dissolving. His heart raced, and a cold sweat coated his skin.' I was in my room... and then... nothing. Was it a dream?'
He blinked. His gaze, though directed into the void, seemed to focus on nothing. 'How can I see? 'He scanned the endless abyss, his vision sharp despite the darkness, when something stirred.
Figures—shadowy, indistinct shapes—flitted in and out of view like ghosts trapped in eternal conflict. Their motions were erratic, wild, as if driven by desperation, rage, and vengeance.
A deafening roar shattered the quiet, reverberating through his bones. Alex's breath hitched as he felt the pulse of power surge around him, constricting his chest with an unbearable weight. .
"Today is your end, monster!" a voice thundered from the unseen chaos, thick with venom.
"Your defiance of the universe's laws will not go unpunished! No one, not even the gods of war, can save you from death!"
The words struck Alex with the force of a hammer, his skull aching from their impact. His hands shot to his head, trying to push the throbbing pain away. 'Unkillable? The gods of war?' His thoughts spiraled, the weight of these words leaving him nauseous. Who are they fighting? And... why is it so real?
The battle around him was more than a war—it was a storm of hatred, a primal bloodlust that shook him to his core. The rage in the air was palpable, as if it could swallow him whole.
Before he could process further, the void quivered, splitting apart like glass. A blinding light pierced through the cracks, and Alex was ripped from the chaos, his heart thudding wildly in his chest.
He gasped, eyes snapping open. Morning sunlight spilled through the window of his small, humble room, bathing him in warmth. His body trembled from the aftershocks of the dream, yet the familiar sight of his surroundings grounded him. He was back. It had to be a dream, a mere dream.
"Was it… a dream?" His voice was shaky as he whispered the words to himself, disbelief clinging to every syllable. His heart continued to race, the sensation of that strange world lingering on his skin like a faint burn. It felt real... too real.
A dull ache bloomed in his chest, a deep yearning he couldn't explain. It gnawed at him, a memory not fully remembered, a fragment that refused to be forgotten.
"Forget it," he muttered, shaking his head. "It's nothing."
But even as he told himself to forget, something felt wrong.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. "Huh! I'm late!" Panic flooded him as he shot out of bed. The training session. The one every villager dreaded.
From his room, nestled in the farthest wing of the training grounds, the sound of grunts, shouts, and clanging metal filtered through the walls. He hesitated, peering out the window with an unease creeping up his spine. The air was thick with tension, and a cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.
No way… I can't go there. Not now. His mind raced for an escape. He couldn't face them—not after the nightmare, on top of that training wasn't his favorite thing to do. But was there no other choice? .
....
Somewhere on the outskirts of Blood Culture Village , three figures sat beneath the shade of a peach tree. The air around them was calm, the natural rhythm of the world in sharp contrast to the chaos inside Alex's mind. They laughed, their voices a reminder of the normalcy that Alex longed for but couldn't quite grasp.
That is, until Aiyun, the youngest, suddenly screamed.
"Ah!"
The senior man beside him snapped, his rough voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Aiyun, you fool! We're in the middle of the village, not in a dungeon! What's gotten into you?"
But Aiyun was pointing, his face pale, eyes wide. "There! Over there!"
The other two, initially skeptical, followed his finger. At first, all seemed still, but then a figure emerged from the trees, moving with unnatural caution. A young man, his movements too deliberate, too careful.
The leader of the group, Bai, stiffened. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold wave of recognition washed over him. His eyes locked onto the figure, and a chill shot down his spine. He knew that face.
"Young Master..." Bai whispered, disbelief lacing his tone.
The other two exchanged confused looks. "Young Master?" Aiyun and Chang echoed, their voices filled with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
Bai's gaze never wavered, his mind racing with memories he wished to bury. The young man standing before them wasn't just any young man. He was Alex—the outcast of Blood Culture Village, the one whose very existence had been a source of gossip in the Southern villages.
Alex stood awkwardly in front of them, his silk-black hair framing his face, so strikingly beautiful it almost seemed unreal. He wore the clothes of a commoner, his demeanor unremarkable—so different from the arrogance most expected from someone of his position. But there was something else in his eyes—something too ancient, too weighed down for his young appearance.
"Um... hello. You can call me Alex," he said, attempting to sound casual. His voice wavered, and the tension in the air only thickened.
A sudden realization swept over Aiyun and Chang. Panic took hold of them as they realized who Alex was—the infamous figure from Blood Culture Village. Though they hadn't met him personally, his name was well-known in the southern villages, often spoken of by their leader.
Bai's heart raced as he studied Alex, torn between the urge to look away and the overwhelming need to confront the unexpected familiarity of the young man before him. Despite being a stranger, something about him resonated deeply within Bai.
Bai was certain this encounter with Alex would lead to trouble. He had always gone out of his way to avoid running into people of high status, which was exactly why he had chosen to stay on the outskirts of the village. Being on the periphery offered some measure of safety, a buffer between him and the dangers of attention. He knew all too well that, despite their fame across the southern villages, notoriety didn't guarantee survival. It only made them targets—marked for those who thrived on power and influence. This wasn't supposed to happen, Bai thought. Why now? Why him? The weight of the situation pressed heavily on him.
Amidst the tension, no one seemed to notice the battle raging inside Bai. The silence hung thick, pressing down on them, each person trapped in their own thoughts, the stillness nearly suffocating.
Alex, however, was in high spirits. Escaping the training session was a stroke of genius, he thought with a self-satisfied grin, mentally patting himself on the back. And who would've guessed I'd run into the Three Drum Kings today? The unexpected encounter felt like a win, a twist of fate he couldn't have predicted.