Baran The Rise Of Azrael

Chapter 11

Baran had completed all his preparations for Nolmyra.

He had spoken with the sages in the nearby town, and what he heard had made his hair stand on end.

This forest… was no forest.

Nolmyra was a living labyrinth.

Constantly shifting, revealing its paths only to those who did not seek them.

Most who entered never found their way back.

Memorizing the route was impossible. Compasses were useless.

And Baran had come knowing all of this.

As he approached the forest during daylight, a strange unease washed over him.

From the depths of his heart, a whisper echoed:

"Come closer... human... let me show you your dreams."

Baran muttered to himself,

"I must be going mad… Forests don't talk… right?"

But Nolmyra was a place where the word nature simply didn't apply.

He realized that the moment he took his first step inside.

The trees shifted.

The wind fell silent.

Suddenly, he was surrounded.

"This is not a forest…"

He decided to leave mana runes behind.

Signs of hope. Markers, in case he needed to return.

He walked. Quietly.

His thoughts wandered to the Star Council.

They had entered before him.

Had they felt this too?

A few steps later… something happened.

The rune he had placed—

It was back at the very beginning.

"Did I walk in circles...? I should've known it wouldn't be that easy."

And it didn't stop there.

The same loop repeated. Again and again.

The same tree.

The same flower.

The same stone.

The same birdcall.

His will was fading.

He was exhausted.

He sat down. Ate a little. Closed his eyes…

And when he opened them, he was somewhere completely different.

His mother and father stood beside him.

They held his hands.

His body was small—he was a child again.

Everything he had lived through felt like a dream.

Or perhaps… just a nightmare.

His mother said:

"Where did you wander off to, my son? We've been looking for you for an hour…"

His father added:

"You little rascal! You made your mother so worried. Don't ever disappear like that again."

Baran threw himself into their arms, crying.

He trembled as he sobbed.

His mother stroked his hair.

His father touched his shoulder with strong, calloused hands.

They walked home together.

At the table, all his favorite foods awaited.

Laughter. Warmth. Family.

It felt like a dream…

But then, he felt something.

"Mana… My mana is draining."

He clutched his chest.

There was a void inside him.

A hollow emptiness.

His eyes narrowed.

"Mana…? How do I even know that word?"

He left his food behind and rushed to his room.

He swallowed hard.

Lifted his hand.

At his fingertip, a tiny flame danced.

Small—

But real.

He was trapped.

"I knew it… This is a hallucination."

Darkness clouded his face.

"But I wanted to believe... Just once. Just once, I wanted to be happy."

He leapt out the window.

Ran.

Back to the place he had first awakened.

Maybe there was a door…

An exit.

And at that moment—

The world shifted.

A voice echoed:

"I was going to let you spend your final moments as you dreamed… Why did you have to remember?"

Then it came.

Baran was forced to witness the moment his parents died.

His mother—hanging.

His father—covered in blood, yet still standing.

Then—

Virion's severed head.

He had to watch.

Hundreds of times.

Again and again.

Just watch.

He cried.

Screamed.

Begged for it to stop.

No answer.

He tried to save them.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Nothing changed.

Baran made a final decision.

The one thing he had always been against.

"Mother… Father… Virion… I'm coming."

And he ended his own life.

He opened his eyes.

Back in reality.

Soaked in sweat.

Hands trembling.

"Never… never again will I allow myself to be this weak."

Baran took a deep breath.

Now he understood what Nolmyra truly was—

A land of illusions.

A realm that showed you your dreams—

Only to destroy you with reality.

But Baran…

Was awake now.

When Baran opened his eyes, he felt that familiar void wrapping around his body.

His mana was almost completely drained.

> "So this forest draws people into a dreamscape... and feeds on their mana."

"Clever. And incredibly dangerous."

"I won't fall for it again."

Baran knew Nolmyra better now.

The key to fighting illusions… was not forgetting the truth.

He had stopped drawing runes.

The forest twisted them, erased them, and reshaped the paths as it pleased.

Logic had no place here.

Then suddenly, a distant explosion echoed through the trees.

Followed by a scream…

Arthur's voice.

Baran instinctively moved toward the sound.

But he was cautious.

He had no intention of confronting the Star Council directly.

He stayed in the shadows and used the spell he had recently learned—Shadow Step—to blend almost perfectly into the darkness.

He moved without a sound.

Through the trees, he spotted Arthur.

But the scene… was far from what he expected.

Arthur was attacking his own teammates.

> "What the hell is this?"

"He's turning on his own people…"

Two voices clashed in Baran's mind:

One said, "Stay out of it. Him going down helps you."

The other, "Save him. He might owe you one."

He hesitated.

Then stepped out of the shadows.

He stood before Arthur and gave a subtle signal to the remaining team members:

> "Hide. Fall back."

Then he turned to Arthur.

There was anger in his voice, but more than that—mockery.

> "I still can't believe they call someone like you a 'hunter.'"

"You've been caught… like a rookie."

"I thought you were strong. Turns out, you're just another puppet."

Arthur's eyes locked onto Baran.

But his mind… was somewhere else.

His body wasn't moving under his own will.

But Baran's voice…

It stirred something.

The words were painful.

But they were true.

Arthur was trapped in a dream.

And inside it… he was facing his past.

---

Arthur…

A shadowy manor.

The illegitimate child of a nobleman.

Born of a maid, but marked at birth by a mana crest that set him apart from all others.

He was strong.

Fast.

And dangerous.

His half-brothers beat him relentlessly.

Mocked him.

Called him "filthy blood."

The bruises toughened his skin, but not his heart.

At the dining table, all eyes were on him—

An orphan, raised by servants.

A ghost in his own home.

His father never acknowledged him.

He grew up between the cold walls of the estate like a stranger…

A mistake that no one wanted.

Until one day…

He snapped.

And ran away.

Never to return.

His arrogant persona had been born from humiliation.

He wore masks to hide his weakness.

Swore to become powerful, so he would never be looked down upon again.

---

By the time Baran finished speaking, Arthur was still struggling.

But he wasn't in control of himself.

Baran sighed.

There was no other way.

Dungeon Chain.

He raised his hands and summoned dark mana.

Chains burst from the ground and wrapped around Arthur's body.

> "This will hold you for a minute or two."

"That'll be enough."

As the chains tightened, Arthur's mind slowly began to awaken.

The fog in his thoughts started to clear.

And then…

He heard a whisper:

> "Wake up, Arthur… life is more than just nightmares."

And at that moment—

Arthur came back.

Exhausted.

But free.

---

Baran slid his dagger back into its sheath with trembling fingers.

His eyes locked onto Arthur.

> "You owe me. I could've left you like that. But I didn't."

"Remember… this 'fucked-up bastard' saved you."

Arthur gave a faint smile.

He was tired—

Drained—

But there was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.

> "Saving me was probably a mistake… but thank you."

Baran murmured under his breath:

"Nothing in this world comes without a price. You'll be useful."

Arthur replied:

> "You might just be the most honest person I've met in this cursed forest."

As Baran turned to walk away, a realization struck him:

This forest was not only a physical battleground…

It was a battlefield of the soul.

---

İşte bu bölümün tamamı, roman formatında, hatasız ve akıcı şekilde İngilizceye çevrilmiş hâli. Webnovel, RoyalRoad ya da Wattpad gibi platformlara doğrudan uygun yapıdadır:

---

When Baran opened his eyes, he felt that familiar void wrapping around his body.

His mana was almost completely drained.

> "So this forest draws people into a dreamscape... and feeds on their mana."

"Clever. And incredibly dangerous."

"I won't fall for it again."

Baran knew Nolmyra better now.

The key to fighting illusions… was not forgetting the truth.

He had stopped drawing runes.

The forest twisted them, erased them, and reshaped the paths as it pleased.

Logic had no place here.

Then suddenly, a distant explosion echoed through the trees.

Followed by a scream…

Arthur's voice.

Baran instinctively moved toward the sound.

But he was cautious.

He had no intention of confronting the Star Council directly.

He stayed in the shadows and used the spell he had recently learned—Shadow Step—to blend almost perfectly into the darkness.

He moved without a sound.

Through the trees, he spotted Arthur.

But the scene… was far from what he expected.

Arthur was attacking his own teammates.

> "What the hell is this?"

"He's turning on his own people…"

Two voices clashed in Baran's mind:

One said, "Stay out of it. Him going down helps you."

The other, "Save him. He might owe you one."

He hesitated.

Then stepped out of the shadows.

He stood before Arthur and gave a subtle signal to the remaining team members:

> "Hide. Fall back."

Then he turned to Arthur.

There was anger in his voice, but more than that—mockery.

> "I still can't believe they call someone like you a 'hunter.'"

"You've been caught… like a rookie."

"I thought you were strong. Turns out, you're just another puppet."

Arthur's eyes locked onto Baran.

But his mind… was somewhere else.

His body wasn't moving under his own will.

But Baran's voice…

It stirred something.

The words were painful.

But they were true.

Arthur was trapped in a dream.

And inside it… he was facing his past.

---

Arthur…

A shadowy manor.

The illegitimate child of a nobleman.

Born of a maid, but marked at birth by a mana crest that set him apart from all others.

He was strong.

Fast.

And dangerous.

His half-brothers beat him relentlessly.

Mocked him.

Called him "filthy blood."

The bruises toughened his skin, but not his heart.

At the dining table, all eyes were on him—

An orphan, raised by servants.

A ghost in his own home.

His father never acknowledged him.

He grew up between the cold walls of the estate like a stranger…

A mistake that no one wanted.

Until one day…

He snapped.

And ran away.

Never to return.

His arrogant persona had been born from humiliation.

He wore masks to hide his weakness.

Swore to become powerful, so he would never be looked down upon again.

---

By the time Baran finished speaking, Arthur was still struggling.

But he wasn't in control of himself.

Baran sighed.

There was no other way.

Dungeon Chain.

He raised his hands and summoned dark mana.

Chains burst from the ground and wrapped around Arthur's body.

> "This will hold you for a minute or two."

"That'll be enough."

As the chains tightened, Arthur's mind slowly began to awaken.

The fog in his thoughts started to clear.

And then…

He heard a whisper:

> "Wake up, Arthur… life is more than just nightmares."

And at that moment—

Arthur came back.

Exhausted.

But free.

---

Baran slid his dagger back into its sheath with trembling fingers.

His eyes locked onto Arthur.

> "You owe me. I could've left you like that. But I didn't."

"Remember… this 'fucked-up bastard' saved you."

Arthur gave a faint smile.

He was tired—

Drained—

But there was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.

> "Saving me was probably a mistake… but thank you."

Baran murmured under his breath:

"Nothing in this world comes without a price. You'll be useful."

Arthur replied:

> "You might just be the most honest person I've met in this cursed forest."

As Baran turned to walk away, a realization struck him:

This forest was not only a physical battleground…

It was a battlefield of the soul.