The Monarch Of The End Chapter 4: 004 : A Bad Dream

Read chapter 4 of The Monarch Of The End by TheBlackPenguin on NovelPedia.

In the midst of a raging inferno, Monsters rampaged through everything in sight. " Zeroxsus ! you have to go with Grandpa!" A woman in her early thirties shouted desperately. Her long black hair was as dark as her eyes. The child cried, his tears were not only water, rather, they are sparks of future hatred "Mom... I don't want to leave you. Please don't go." The child clung to his mother's hand, not wanting to let go; she was his whole world. Beyond the waves of fire emerged a man wearing broken glasses; his jet-black hair bore a striking resemblance to that of a small child .. but there was one small difference between them .. the man’s body was covered in burns. Beside him stood an elderly man with narrow eyes and long white hair that reached his shoulders. He carried an air of authority and strength, yet there was also an undeniable weakness about him. Darius stepped toward his son. He placed his hands on the boy's cheeks and gently wiped away his tears. He wanted to cry as well. But the heat was so intense that his tears evaporated before they could even fall .. He spoke calmly, as if the destruction all around them didn't concern them, and said, "Zeroxsus, my dear little one, you must go with Grandfather. There's no time left..." Zeroxsus looked at his father. "But—" Before he could finish, his feet left the ground. The old man had hoisted him onto his shoulder. In an annoyed yet playful tone, he said, "You're a stubborn one, kid. You take after him a little too much, Darius." The mother sighed. Her final request carried all the weight of a farewell. "Please take good care of him, Grandpa." Then she turned toward her son. "Zeroxsus, listen to Grandpa. Be a good boy." She paused briefly before adding in a somber voice, "And remember us..." As she spoke her final words, Monsters and twisted abominations began gathering around them. A crimson hyena lunged toward them. It died before it ever reached them. The old man drew a curved eastern blade with a golden hilt. Its tip was broader and heavier than the rest of the weapon, perfectly suited for swift, devastating cuts. The old man's voice lost all traces of humor. Only responsibility remained. "I'll take good care of him. Don't worry." Then he shot away from the encroaching horde with astonishing speed. "Let me go!" Zeroxsus screamed one final time. The smoke and scorching air burned his throat so badly that he could barely breathe. He struggled over and over. He punched the old man's back. He bit him. He fought with everything he had. But he was only six years old. And the old man was a seasoned warrior. "J-Just... let... me..." His voice had become barely audible. The old man never looked back. He ignored the boy's protests and spoke one final time. "You are the last hope, Zeroxsus. I cannot leave you behind." His expression hardened. "It was my final promise." Between the flames, Zeroxsus saw his parents for the last time... Between dream and reality, tears streamed from his eyes.. "..." He finally woke from the nightmare. It was the same one that returned every so often. Looking up at the night sky, he laughed quietly to himself. "The last hope... huh?" As always, he couldn't escape the dream. It lingered within his chest like an open wound. Sleep was no longer an option. So he did what the old man had taught him. He trained. Despite his thin appearance, Zeroxsus had always taken care of his body. He wasn't exceptionally muscular or imposing. But he was flexible. Strong enough. If an expert were watching him now, they would be surprised. His physical condition far surpassed that of ordinary soldiers. Compared to the overwhelming majority of people from the slums, Zeroxsus was already quite powerful. At the moment, however, he possessed no weapon. The dagger he had used to kill the wolf was long gone. He had been too busy reaching the shelter and treating his injuries to recover it. As a result, he focused on exercises that improved flexibility and movement. "Every time,