Chapter 35
The Feeling Within Darkness
"My ability is to nullify abilities… and so on… but this system is something strange… is it part of the ability? No… I don't think so… then what is it? Perhaps it is a gift from the dar—"
Before Einver could finish his thought about the system and his ability, darkness consumed him suddenly. In that instant, he felt as though his very soul had been swallowed by a bottomless abyss, as if his body and spirit alike were being dragged into a merciless black hole.
He could no longer see his body, nor even know if he still existed at all. Before him… behind him… to his right and to his left… everything was drowned in suffocating black.
He let out a harsh, ragged cry:
"What the hell is happening here? Who did this to me?"
He tried to move, but his body was like stone fastened to the ground, utterly immobile. He could not see, could not extend a hand or take a single step. It was as if the darkness itself were an invisible shackle binding every part of him.
Suddenly, a calm yet deep voice resounded through the shadows:
"My son… remember… sight is not everything."
From the heart of the darkness appeared a man, tall and steadfast, his height nearly one hundred and eighty-eight centimeters. He stood with unshaken composure, clad in white martial garments, a gray belt wrapped around his waist, etched with three clear words:
"Trust yourself first."
The man was young, with firm features and a body sculpted with the strength of seasoned soldiers. His jet-black hair was cropped short in the manner of army generals. His thick eyebrows were sharp, and his face bore a tranquil, unyielding expression, like a mountain that storms could never shake.
He raised his right hand slowly, eyes closed, and then—suddenly—struck the air. The blow was so fierce its echo thundered across the darkness.
With a steady voice he said:
"Perhaps you will be dragged into a battle amidst darkness… what will you do then?"
Before him now sat a small boy, no older than six. It was Einver, dressed in the same martial clothes as his father, Kaizen. His hair was short and black, slightly wavy, and his eyes gleamed a pure, ruby red—innocent like a child's, yet carrying a spark of power.
Einver thought carefully, then murmured:
"I don't kno—"
Before he could finish, his father lunged at him like lightning. With explosive strength, Kaizen struck the ground, his body soaring into the air like a raging storm, his foot aimed directly at his son's throat.
Einver leapt back just in time, narrowly avoiding the deadly strike.
Kaizen roared in fury:
"Close your eyes!"
He tossed him a thick, wide strip of cloth and tied another around his own eyes. Without hesitation, Einver did the same.
Darkness swallowed him whole once again. He could see nothing—no shapes, no bodies, no direction, nothing but void.
Suddenly, a crushing blow struck his stomach, hurling him backward until he slammed into the wall. Agonizing fire coursed through his insides, but he gritted his teeth, steadied himself, and rose once more without shedding a tear.
Kaizen's voice rang out, stern and unwavering:
"Focus… sight is not everything. Yes, you have eyes… but you also have ears, a mouth, a nose. All of these senses are weapons in your hands. Learn how to use them."
Einver heard his father's footsteps draw nearer through the blackness. He stumbled back, only to find the wall at his back once again. He raised his arms instinctively to shield his face, but Kaizen's foot crashed violently against his guard.
"Focus!" Kaizen barked.
Pain was nothing new to Einver—he had endured brutal training daily. But this darkness… this was something else entirely. To fight when you could not even see your own body… to know a strike was coming but be blind to it… it was terrifying. Terrifying beyond measure.
As sweat poured from his body and the sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears, another voice rose—soft and tender—from within the shadows:
"Be strong, my son… you can do it."
Einver's lips parted in joy:
"Mother…"
His face lit up with a smile at her voice. But at that very moment, Kaizen lifted him off the ground as if he were a doll, then hurled him across the room. He struck the floor hard, blood spilling from his mouth and nose, yet not a cry escaped him.
His mother's voice broke out in anger and fear:
"Kaizen! Stop this at once!"
But Kaizen's eyes blazed as he replied:
"He must learn… our son has chosen the path of the warrior, and I will not stand in his way. You, more than anyone, know what this path means in the Kame family… no retreat… no surrender… no defeat… only battle and victory!"
His words struck like thunder, an unshakable truth. Einver's mother fell silent. Their son had chosen this path of his own will.
Any other child might have chosen play, study, or an ordinary life—a lawyer, a teacher, an engineer. But Einver chose martial arts. He chose the road of blood and fire.
And in the Kame and Narine families, such a choice was never mere hobby. These families carried ancient legacies—rule, dominance, and strength that had struck fear into the world for four thousand years. They had been kings of war and martial arts. With time and change, their glory had faded… but their laws still coursed through the veins of their descendants.
Kaizen's eyes flashed like lightning as he stood over his son:
"Stand now… focus… I will keep striking until you evade my blow. Do you understand?"
Einver's breath shook, but he steadied himself. Then suddenly—he noticed something. His father's footsteps stopped when he held his breath. The realization struck like light:
"He's listening to my breathing… then I can do the same."
He slowed his breath, softer and softer, until it nearly disappeared. He strained his ears through the darkness… he heard only the anxious, quickened breaths of his mother. When they suddenly grew sharper, he knew Kaizen had launched his attack. He dropped low to the ground just as his father's foot swept overhead.
"Got you."
With a savage grin, Einver caught his father's leg, lifting with all his might. Kaizen toppled to the floor, and his son straddled his chest, one hand at his throat, the other cocked to strike.
Kaizen laughed:
"You did it."
At once, his mother rushed in, embracing Einver with tears of joy. Kaizen, smiling with pride, asked:
"How did you manage it?"
Einver answered:
"To be honest… I couldn't sense your breathing. You hid it too well. But Mother… her breaths were clear, and her fear spiked with each of your strikes. I guessed your attack by her reaction… and with a little luck, I succeeded."
Kaizen and his wife exchanged a long, silent look. They could hardly believe their son had surpassed the basics this way—turning even his mother's fear into a tool for survival.
Just then, a small girl burst into the room, crying:
"Daddy! Amara doesn't want to play with me!"
Kaizen laughed, scooping her up in his arms:
"Don't worry… Einver will talk to her."
Einver groaned in protest:
"Haa? Why me?"
His father chuckled:
"Because Amara is part of your little gang."
Einver sighed in defeat, while his mother smiled softly.
…
Darkness returned once more—but this time in the garden. Einver closed his eyes, feeling every movement around him. He heard the whisper of grass beneath his feet, the heavy, cautious steps drawing near.
"One person… strong, confident… but careless, as if certain of victory."
He smiled calmly, sensing the killing intent closing in. His body would not move—the ability was restraining him. Only his eyes and mouth were free.
"Wait… wait…"
The enemy leaned close, whispering in his ear:
"This is the price for killing our brother, you bastard."
Einver smirked in scorn:
"He wants to torture me… fool."
He whispered:
"Ability Nullification."
At once, the darkness shattered, and his enemy stood exposed before him, dressed in garb identical to the spy Einver had killed in the tavern.
Einver sneered:
"You're a disgrace to assassins. If the worst Reaper saw you now, he'd be stunned by pity for the killers of this world."
In a sudden motion, he drove his fingers into the man's left eye, tearing it free. He clamped his other hand over his mouth, then crushed his throat until the sweet sound of breaking bones filled the air.
But before death claimed him, the man stabbed a dagger into Einver's foot. It did nothing—death struck first.
Einver exhaled slowly, dropped the eye from his hand, and washed the blood away in the garden's waters. Then a screen appeared before him:
| Congratulations, you have unlocked the Kill Count feature |
He opened his personal window:
| Name: Einver
Age: 18
Physical Strength: 10
Magical Strength: 8
Martial Realm: Earth Realm – Initial Stage
Martial Arts Learned: All Martial Arts of Earth
None from the Spiritual Earth Realm
Weapons: Sword and Bow
Kill Count: 1001
Titles: ??? |
| Because of your countless kills and the massacre you carried out, a new Title has been unlocked. |
A title appeared within brackets:
| Your Title is: (The Mad Killer) |
| Title Ability:
When you use the title "The Mad Killer," you may release a dark aura that terrifies your enemies, sowing fear and dread in their hearts. Any enemy weaker than you in magical strength will be unable to move for the duration of the title's use. But the stronger the enemy, the weaker the effect becomes, until it vanishes completely before those far beyond you.
Do you accept this title? Yes / No |
Einver stared at the screen in shock, even forgetting the dagger still lodged in his foot. The title was overwhelming. A grin spread across his face as he declared firmly:
"Yes."
And thus, a new title was born…
The Mad Killer.
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