Baran The Rise Of Azrael

When night fell, Samerra grew quiet. Baran slipped out of the fortress in silence.

Once he reached the open field beyond the walls, the sky was painted with stars. The moon glowed with a pale orange hue, nearly crimson. It was the perfect time to begin.

He took a deep breath. He recalled the words he had learned earlier that day.

> "O Sun God... Grant me the power of fire. Burn my enemies..."

He stretched his hand forward. A spark ignited within him. A small fireball flickered to life at his fingertips. But it was weak. Lifeless. It fluttered but would not burn.

Disappointment settled heavy on his shoulders. He took a step back. Crouched in the darkness. Leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

---

And then...

A voice rose from within. Deep. Dark. But familiar.

> "Fire... is rage. Release your anger... but with control. Imagine. Burning. Destroying. The ashes..." "Fire kills."

Baran's eyes remained closed. But in his mind, the nightmares returned—the lash marks, the chains, the screams of the guards, the image of his mother's hanging body... All of them ignited.

A whisper reached him.

> "Krell Thar."

Baran opened his eyes. His hand rose instinctively.

And fire was born.

The fireball in his hand was nothing like before. It pulsed with intense, trembling power. And then—

BOOM!

The ground shook. A tree in the distance burst into ash. The silence shattered under the weight of the explosion.

---

Baran staggered back, breathless. His eyes flashed for a moment, then dimmed. For a brief second, he had lost himself. But he quickly recovered.

He had to run. Virion couldn't find out.

As he slipped back through the fortress gates, his steps became silent. But he didn't realize one thing:

Commander Virion had been watching from a high tower all along.

He said nothing. Just moved his lips:

> "Azrael."

The next morning, the summons came. Commander Virion wanted to see him. Baran had not shaken the weight in his chest since the night before. He had been seen. There was no escape.

But he knew one more thing:

> "My enemy's power surpasses mine. I can't fight him now. But it won't stay that way forever."

---

When Baran entered Virion's chamber, a few high-ranking commanders were inside. Maps, reports, sealed envelopes covered the table. Their discussions were heavy: Samerra's border lines, monster raids, mysterious disappearances...

Baran feigned distraction. His eyes drifted to the door. Could he run? But no... Virion's gaze was already fixed on him.

The meeting ended. The commanders filed out. The door closed. Silence—dense and foreboding.

Virion turned. There was no anger or surprise in his eyes. Only a cold assessment.

> "Sit down, Baran."

Baran sat slowly. He knew what would happen if he tried to run.

The commander turned his back to the window. Sunlight framed his silhouette as he spoke:

> "Azrael... Nice name. Where did you come up with it?"

Baran's heart skipped. He had heard everything. Trickery and escape were now useless.

But he couldn't give up. He took a deep breath and replied with steady calm:

> "I liked it. Thought it was fitting. Because... I died in that pit. I had to be born again."

Virion's face shifted slightly. His next words struck like a war axe:

> "So you killed them all. Just by releasing your mana. Incredible, boy... But such power always comes at a price. Nothing in this world goes unpunished."

Baran didn't lower his head. He listened with silent pride.

Virion slowly sat in his own chair. His expression was stern, but his voice softened slightly:

> "I know you won't lie to me. Because you, like me... understand the true nature of power. Yes, I'm strong. But you know what? The nobles feared me. That's why they sent me to this forsaken border town."

He paused. His eyes locked onto Baran's:

> "You have revenge in your eyes. A kind that will consume you, kill you, transform you. But if guided correctly... it can elevate you. You're ready to give your life. That much is clear."

He leaned back.

> "I'll train you, Baran. Because your mana is extraordinary. And I must use this opportunity to my advantage."

He paused, then added with a faint smile:

> "But I have one condition. When the time comes, I'll ask you for a favor. And it won't be an easy one."

---

Baran suppressed the fear inside. It could be a trap. It could be salvation.

Either way, he couldn't let the chance slip. He clenched his teeth.

> "I accept."

The air in the room shifted. Baran's mana trembled. Virion noticed. Baran's eyes flared like fire; even the burn marks on his arm briefly glowed red.

For the first time, Virion thought:

> "This boy... is not ordinary. I know I can succeed with him."

He stood up without a hint of expression.

> "Get up, Baran. We're going."

Baran was still dazed by the fire within. His thoughts burned, his senses fogged. He barely heard the commander's voice.

Virion stepped closer. His voice sharpened:

> "Baran. I said… we're going."

Baran came back to himself. Raised his eyes.

> "Where?"

Virion narrowed his gaze and gave a slight smile.

> "To the training grounds."

---

The walk was silent. Baran's mind was full of questions. But he didn't ask. The growing trust inside him was competing with curiosity.

When they arrived at the training grounds, everyone turned to stare. A child standing face-to-face with Commander Virion in the arena... was unheard of.

Virion stood in the center. Faced Baran. And spoke a simple, crushing sentence:

> "They say potential will kill you, Baran. Either it consumes you... or you shape it."

He paused.

> "Repeat the spell you used last night."

Baran's body tensed. He hesitated. But he trusted Virion now. He whispered the spell:

> "Krell Thar."

His hand rose. His eyes narrowed. The fire was born. Dense, trembling, uncontrolled yet passionate...

Virion stepped back. Even the heat felt like an attack.

> "This... is not a child's fire," he whispered.

Then asked:

> "How much mana do you have left?"

Baran searched inward:

> "I think... I can do it 5 or 6 more times."

Virion nodded.

> "Then do it. All of it."

Baran was stunned.

> "If I drain my mana, I can't train..." But he said nothing. Curiosity burned within him. Fueled his desire.

Five... six... seven times. Each blast scorched the earth, shook the air.

Finally, Baran dropped to his knees. It was over. His mana completely drained. His body heavy. His breath shallow. For a moment, he nearly collapsed.

Virion approached. The real training had begun.

> "Mana... gives you endurance, Baran. But when it's gone... your body is at its weakest."

> "You won't always fight one-on-one duels. You'll face swarms of enemies. And your mana will run out."

Virion knelt to meet his eyes:

> "So your first task is: Train your body every day. You must be strong enough to fight even without mana."

Then continued:

> "Your second task: Meditation. Learn to absorb natural mana and make it your own."

> "If you master this art... One day, you'll gather mana just by breathing. While walking. Eating. Even sleeping..."

---

Baran remained silent for a moment. But he understood.

He stood up. His legs trembled. His gaze, tired but resolute.

> "Understood... Commander."

From that moment, the real training began. But it wasn't just his muscles or magic... It was Baran's identity being rebuilt.

He was no longer ordinary. He was Commander Virion's special student. The center of rumors, stares, and expectations.

But he remained silent. He did not speak. He only trained. Relentlessly.

---

Every morning, at the first light of dawn, he rose. Hundreds of push-ups on the cold stone floor, Resistance drills with sandbags, Hours of meditation.

But a voice echoed in his mind:

"If I master mana absorption... Why am I still pushing my body this hard? Why not learn a new spell?"

These questions returned with every burning muscle. Every cracked bone. Every lost breath.

One day, while watching the training grounds from the edge, he realized something.

The Samers weren't just using mana. Some fought with swords, others with daggers or spears. Mana and the body were intertwined. Without mastering the body, using mana in battle... was hollow.

He remembered the first Samer who found him had a spear in his hand. Perhaps... that was a sign.

Baran stopped questioning the training. His doubts turned to determination.