***
Hadjar was sinking into the depths of the black waters. Above him, the heavy stone slabs of the ruined Palace were falling in.
Isn’t it all the same where we die: here or there?
Had the Tree of Life predicted this? That he’d be killed by Elaine, who’d forgotten that she had been born to Elizabeth and Haver? Since she’d forgotten her parents, she hadn’t been born at all. It was stupid. Ironic. Far too poetic and dramatic for his tastes.
I’m tired of life, and would be glad to see the world crumble with me.
Hitting the bottom, Hadjar didn’t try to get back up to the distant surface of the water. His strength had left him.
Wind, blow. Death, I am yours!
He would meet his forefathers with honor. He had done everything he’d wanted to do. He’d freed the Kingdom from the rule of Primus. He’d entrusted it to Elaine’s hands, whom the Tree of Life had chosen to be the Queen. He had also saved Elaine.
“I’m like a bear, chained to a post.”
All these years, through any storms or hardships, he had followed those simple goals: to take revenge on his parents’ killers and save her. He had reached them and now he felt a deep emptiness in his chest. Not one caused by terrible wounds, but by the absence of a goal that he could live and fight for.
What was the use of pointlessly wandering along the path of cultivation if you didn’t strive for anything?
Power had never been Hadjar’s goal, only a means to an end.
I can’t run away, as I’m surrounded on all sides by enemies.
Hadjar remembered his desires: he’d wished to travel, to meet new, interesting people, to face the dangers that awaited him on his way to the unknown, to be free… It was possible in this world and had been impossible in his past one.
But where is the one who wasn’t born to a woman?
Now that he couldn’t travel with his friend... his brother... The idea seemed like torture, a terrible joke of fate. If Hadjar had welcomed it before, he was now afraid of it.
Only he can take my life.
Just as Azrea’s mother had predicted, Hadjar was burnt out. His revenge had consumed him from the inside out. It was a potent, hot fuel, which he had used to break through obstacles that would have broken most people instead. Now he had nothing left that could make him go any further.
Or maybe I, like a Roman fool, will fall on my own sword?
Somewhere out there, above the dome of darkness, where a little yellow spot shone, somebody small dived in, swimming down. Somebody white, fluffy, desperately pawing through the water. Azrea charged through the terrible abyss, ignoring the falling, sharp debris, trying to save her stupid two-legged.
Hadjar looked at her. He tried to drive her away… Tried to explain that he couldn’t keep the oath he’d given to her mother, he couldn’t help her become a human. That his life path was at an end. But Azrea continued to swim. It seemed like an even more powerful fuel was burning inside her than had previously burned inside Hadjar. But did the tiger want revenge? No.
“No!”
Would Hadjar, the Mad General, let the prediction of an old, stupid piece of wood come true? Was that how pathetic he truly was?
Hadjar twitched. Through the dark haze of pain and death, he assumed a vertical position. He moved his hands for the first time, trying to swim up toward the light.
As far as…
Suddenly, the world changed. The darkness disappeared. Hadjar stood on the shore of a small pond and peered into its depths. He saw his parents’ house and his parents waiting for him in front of it. Nero and Serra were with them. They called out to him.
Then a maiden appeared from the pond. She was very beautiful. She hugged Hadjar and pulled him down, inside the pond... But had his parents needed to die? Or fight the demons and sacrifice Leonora? Hadn’t that happened because of the mistake made by the Jasper Emperor — the Emperor of the Gods?
Hadjar didn’t know why he knew who the Jasper Emperor was, but still... Because of a mistake made by the Heavens, his father and mother had died. And Nero and his wife had died. The Gods decided the fate of the people, didn’t they? They’d caused the deaths of not only entire families, but also countries, with their mistakes.
I have…
Who had given them such power? Who had allowed them to toy with the lives of mortals? After all, every practitioner fought for the sake of freedom, for the opportunity to master their own destiny. And then it turns out that all of it was a hoax, the Gods mocking them for their efforts?
No. Hadjar’s hands hadn’t weakened yet. The rage in his eyes hadn’t dimmed yet.
Hadjar grabbed the beautiful maiden’s arms, which instantly became bony and rotten. With the roar of an awakened dragon, he forced open the arms of death.
His footfalls were like thunder.
His sword was lightning.
... such strength...
Even if the army of the gods descended from the sky, they wouldn’t stop his blade. If the legions of demons arose, they wouldn’t slow his stride.
Hadjar Duran, the Prince blinded by his revenge, was dead. He’d died in battle with his own demons. From his ashes, Hadjar Traves was born. The man who wouldn’t stop until he found the Seventh Heaven, until he reached the Jasper Emperor and broke him. After all, if people suffered for their mistakes, then why could the Gods make mistakes and not be punished for them?
He would find the Gods. He would open the Book of Thousands and correct their mistake. He would bring back all of them: Haver, Elizabeth, Primus, Leonora, Eren, and Serra. All of them would sit at the
