(David's POV)
I lay on the cold ground, my body hollow and weak, drained from pushing my spiritual energy beyond what it could bear.
Lazarus had already left me behind.
He said only a few words, but those words cut deeper than any wound. They dragged my mind back to a place I thought I had buried long ago.
My days as a slave.
Memories rose uninvited, heavy and sharp. One in particular refused to fade, clear as if it had happened moments ago.
I was new then. Still learning what suffering truly meant.
That day, I was given work meant to break a body. I spent hours fetching water from the river, carrying it again and again until every tank was filled. My arms burned. My legs shook. My breath felt borrowed.
By the time I was done, my body trembled like it no longer belonged to me.
I remember sitting by the side of a busy street, too exhausted to stand, too numb to feel shame. People passed me without a glance. Above them all, the night sky stretched wide and silent.
For a brief moment, I let myself breathe.
I looked up and watched the stars, pretending—just for a heartbeat—that the world was kind.
That was when I saw her.
A girl passed by, adorned with golden necklaces and bracelets.
She had to be one of the wealthy children of the village.
As she walked past me, a golden ring slipped from her hand and fell to the ground.
She didn't notice.
For a moment, I just stared at the ring.
With that ring… I could have lived better.
I could have escaped this place.
But I picked it up.
I stood and walked toward her.
I reached out and tapped her shoulder, holding the ring out to her.
When she turned around, her face twisted in disgust.
Before I could say a word, she slapped me across the face.
Then she screamed.
A thief, a slave was trying to rob me. Her voice catching the attention of the villagers as they quickly gather to the scene.
I tried to explain myself to her, but with every word I spoke, her screams only grew louder—sharper, more desperate, as if truth itself enraged her.
Before I could take another breath, villagers pinned me to the ground. Hands crushed my limbs. Knees pressed into my back. I was given no chance to speak, no space to exist.
Then her father arrived.
He wore wealth like armor—fine clothes, servants trailing behind him like shadows. He rushed to her side, asking if she was hurt. She shook her head, untouched… and then pointed at me.
She said I tried to rob her.
She said I threatened her.
He did not hesitate.
His foot slammed into my stomach, stealing the air from my lungs. Again. And again. He stomped on me as though I were less than dirt—as though I had never been human.
"You disgusting thing," he spat. "You will suffer for daring to lay a finger on my daughter."
I tried to speak. I tried to explain.
Each attempt earned me another blow.
"You have the eyes of the devil," he said. "Know your place you demon."
At his command, his men descended on me.
Fists. Kicks. Stones hurled without mercy. My body became something to be broken, something to exhaust their rage upon. Hours passed—hours of pain without pause. My face was soaked in blood, my vision fading in and out, until even despair felt heavy.
For a moment… I almost gave up.
They stopped only when their own bodies failed them. I could hear their heavy breathing, see their trembling hands. They had beaten me until they could no longer lift their arms.
Then they left.
I was abandoned there—hopeless, broken, standing at the edge of death. People walked past me as if I were already a corpse. My fellow slaves watched from afar, from the safety of corners and shadows.
I stretched out my hand toward them.
No one came.
Once more, I felt myself slipping, felt surrender calling my name. But slowly, painfully, I forced myself to stand. Barely alive, I dragged my ruined body away from that place.
And in that moment, something became clear to me.
The heart of man…
is desperately wicked.
I nearly gave up, my act of kindness brought me near death and scarred my face, and from that day I started looking at life in a different way.
My thoughts circled over those memories as I lay down on the ground watching the night sky stretch wide into the sky.
I was able to stand up on my fear as I tried to find my way back, on my way I stumbled upon the giant thick rock I was supposed to break with my hands.
I ignored it and began walking away, but then something surged in me, rage, pain, and suffering, all in my heart. Then I sprinted towards the rock with rage in my eyes; my fist met it, it didn't break or shatter.
I grew more angry, punching the rock multiple times. Blood dripping from my fist but I didn't stop, I continued punching harder nonstop, ignoring the pain and blood.
And then my mind drifted into my soul realm and there I met that shadow figure again. It stretched its hands towards me again, this time I didn't reach back. I shouted in rage to it.
"What do you want from me!! Why am I here? What do you want?!!"
As I dropped down to my knee, I then heard a voice: "I want truth." I turned my face back up and it was the shadowy figure that said it. It then stretched its hands towards me again. In that moment I remembered what Lazarus said: your soul might be also trying to remember as well.
Then I stood up with confidence and made contact with its hands. That sensational feeling began but it was easy to suppress. Then my mind came back to its conscious state.
I gathered all my strength into a single punch, my scream filled with pure rage. My fist met the rock—and a black force spread through it like veins of shadow. The moment I released it, the entire rock collapsed, turning into dust and sand.
I stood there with my hands raised, staring at the full moon as its pale light poured over me as I drop to the ground.
(Village of Sand)
Inside a chamber room carved from rock and clay, a man dressed in black stepped forward, the same one who had fought Peter and Hiron.
"You've quite made a scene for yourself, Death Spear."
From within the shadows, a woman's voice answered as her figure slowly emerged.
"And what is it you want, witch?"
"I believe you haven't forgotten about our plan, have you?"
"I have not."
"Good," she said. "Because tonight, we rise… and bring chaos to them."