Zain spoke: "What's wrong with you? You seem absent-minded—aren't we going in?"
Sword of the Sky snapped out of his daze, and the two of them entered the alley filled with pale, gray corpses. As they went deeper inside, Zain showed clear signs of shock—he had not known this alley was practically a human graveyard where the victims themselves had chosen to die.
The further they advanced, the more the corpses increased in number—stacked tightly, clinging together, with a dull hum echoing around them. It was a horrifying sight, one that chilled the soul. While Sword of the Sky had seen it repeatedly, Zain had never witnessed such a massive number of deaths—families who died trying to protect their loved ones.
They walked for a while until Sword of the Sky stopped in front of three corpses: a woman and two children—one of them a girl who was cradling the two on her sides; the girl to the left, the boy to the right. Her head was bowed, as if waiting for hope and rescue—but fate had already sealed their end. They were none other than Sword of the Sky's aunt and younger siblings.
Zain said: "What a tragedy! She never gave up on her children. She held them to the very end. She tried to protect them, but fate had other plans. Come on, let's move on—there's no point in just watching."
Zain didn't know that this woman and the two children were Sword of the Sky's aunt and siblings. As Zain turned to continue, he noticed Sword of the Sky trying to lift the woman. He came back toward him, and Sword of the Sky said: "Help me carry them—I can't do it alone."
Zain didn't understand what Sword of the Sky was trying to do, but he chose to help him anyway. Sword of the Sky carried his aunt on his back, and his sister on his right shoulder—her arms hanging forward, legs dangling behind. Zain carried the younger brother on his back. Then, together, they returned the way they came.
Sword of the Sky said nothing, and Zain remained silent too. He saw the sadness flooding his friend's eyes and decided not to speak the whole way. They exited the alley, and Sword of the Sky continued walking tirelessly toward the edge of the city. Zain followed each step, silent and expressionless.
They kept walking for hours, until finally Sword of the Sky stopped in front of a tree with lifeless roots and completely wilted branches—though it would blossom later. It was an acacia tree, common throughout desert regions.
They laid the corpses on the sand, and Sword of the Sky began digging with both hands beside the tree. Zain stood there, still carrying the younger brother, until he finally asked: "I didn't want to ask, but answer me—are those three related to you?"
Sword of the Sky replied coldly, still digging: "Yes. That woman was my aunt, and those two were my little siblings. My aunt took care of them after my father and mother were killed by the forces in the Western Desert. I never imagined I would one day bury my own family with my hands and witness their death—all because I was weak. If I had been strong enough for no creature to stand in my way, none of this would've happened."
Sadness covered Zain's face, and he began digging as well. Their expressions were filled with grief and darkness. Burying most of your family with your own hands is something almost impossible to endure.
Sword of the Sky said coldly: "Zain, you truly have to forge that weapon."
Zain turned immediately. Sword of the Sky continued: "You must forge it, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifices or requirements. We have to take revenge. We can't just stay idle—we must restore peace."
Zain replied: "I will do everything I can. No—I will forge it. Just trust me."
Sword of the Sky looked at Zain, and in his words, he saw firmness and determination. After seeing the full truth, Zain's resolve grew even stronger, as did his belief in creating the weapon that would destroy the demons. The two kept digging until Sword of the Sky told Zain to stop: "You can stop here. I'll bury them myself. I must carry this burden alone. Just step away for a while—this is my final duty toward them: to throw earth over their bodies so I won't see them again. I'll do it myself."
Zain remained silent, offering no objection. When Sword of the Sky finished digging, he reached the final, painful step of the eternal farewell. Zain stood watching as Sword of the Sky began to bury his aunt first, gently brushing her face before covering the grave with golden sand. Then his sister—he brushed her face, then covered her. And finally, he reached the last moment, brushed his brother's face, and buried all three—forever. Their faces were steeped in sorrow.
Sword of the Sky bowed his head, then wandered the area looking for stone slabs to mark the graves. Zain understood what he was doing and rushed to help. Sword of the Sky found two slabs, and Zain found only one. They weren't smooth—some were broken, some bent or crooked—but they would serve for now.
Sword of the Sky planted the slabs at the head of each grave while Zain watched closely, deeply moved. Then, Sword of the Sky cut his index finger and began writing their names in blood on each slab:
… … …
He stood there, head bowed in grief, with Zain beside him, also overcome by sadness.
Zain said: "We have to bury the rest of the townspeople too. This chaos can't remain—soon the corpses will rot, and a swamp will form that kills anyone who comes near."
Sword of the Sky replied: "You're right. I was going to ask Raven to handle it with the other trainees. But my family comes first—I wasn't thinking about anything else. Let's go back—we need rest. Tomorrow will be intense and dangerous. If our first attempt succeeds, we'll obtain that demonic blood. If it fails, then we can only try again. I'll never give up. And if I die, I'll have no regrets. It would be an honor to die for the survival of humanity. But you—I won't allow you to die. If I die, you live. If I die, be my successor, and forge that weapon. It may be the last hope for humanity's survival."
Even though I will do everything I can to stay alive, I seek revenge—against the demons. I want to be their nightmare, as they were
once ours. We must turn the tide—at any cost.