Chapter 4 Not Orphans, But Triplets

The stone sword clashed forcefully with the golden dagger in the air once again. Vahrez put away the stone sword behind him and said to Ormazd, seemingly respectfully, "What do you think of my words, my king?" Ormazd's arm was a bit numb. His eyes stared fixedly at Vahrez. Then he whispered to the servant behind him in a very low voice, "Run." The servant was stunned, looking completely confused. Only after hearing Ormazd's words did he slowly come to his senses. He looked at Ormazd, who was shielding him, and then at Vahrez in front, who had put away his sword. "I can’t..." Vahrez sneered. "Your Majesty, it seems my servant doesn't appreciate your kindness." "I'm in charge here!" Ormazd thundered. His bright golden hair fluttered behind the mask. The servant saw this, and Ormazd's voice brought back his senses. "I told you to run! Otherwise, he'll kill you." Ormazd didn't want any innocent person to die in front of him. "This is Duke Vahrez!" The servant, who had fallen to the ground, started struggling to get up, but his eyes couldn't leave Ormazd's back. Why would he protect him by offending the duke? He was just a lowly servant, wasn't he? "Don't make me say it a third time." The short knife spun in Ormazd's hand. He crossed his hands, assuming an attacking stance. His voice was a bit low, and his gaze was as sharp as the wind. "I mean... Your Majesty, you can barely take care of yourself. Why bother about others?" Vahrez slightly lifted his eyelids. Apparently, he didn't care much about Ormazd's actions and instead seemed to be watching a joke. "As for that, you'd better take care of yourself first, Duke Vahrez." Ormazd said, "Since you address me as king, you should have the awareness of a subordinate." With a push of his foot, he dashed forward. As he moved, the gold ornaments casually put on his body swung and happened to fall into the hand of the servant behind him. The servant instinctively held the ornaments that had fallen into his hand. The words the king had shouted seemed to ring in his ears. Run! He raised his eyes and looked at the young man, who was engaged in a fight with the bear-like Duke Vahrez. His eyes grew hot, and tears welled up and streamed down uncontrollably. He murmured, "Thank you..." He didn't want Ormazd's efforts to go to waste. Like a swift rabbit, he dashed out through the gap. Tears sprayed into the air as he ran. As he ran, he prayed, "Oh, young king who was regarded as a sacrifice. I am willing to offer all I have to the God of Light. I pray that the God of Light will protect you." The dagger struck the stone sword again. Vahrez's face twitched with anger. "Just because I call you king, you really think you are one? I could kill a king like you every year!" "What are you talking about, Duke Vahrez? The crown on my head was crowned under the witness of the God of Light." Without hesitation, Ormazd stabbed his dagger towards Vahrez's heart, but was forcefully blocked. Taking advantage of the situation, Ormazd quickly twisted his wrist, and a flash of blade passed in front of Vahrez's chin. The thick, curly black beard burst apart in the air and fell limply to the ground. "How dare you!" Vahrez's beard, which represented his dignity, was cut off. His eyes were wide with fury. He swung the stone sword with all his might. Ormazd's right arm was slashed, and blood gushed out, instantly covering the sun mark on the back of his right hand. Ormazd had a strange feeling, as if he was about to be drawn into the void. Vahrez stretched out his muscular hand to grab Ormazd, intending to throw him hard to the ground. But suddenly, he caught nothing but air. Ormazd's body turned transparent. With a light smile on his face, he said, "Vahrez, we'll meet again." The transparent body completely disappeared without a trace, leaving only a voice behind. "The next time we meet, I hope you, Duke, will come to pay homage to me wholeheartedly as a subject." Looking at the pitch-black interior of the temple, Vahrez's heart had never beaten so powerfully. His eyes, like those of a wild beast, searched everywhere, but found nothing. The power of the God of Light? No matter if it was a human or a God, nothing could stop his rule over Aurashan. In the pure white space, the blond-haired boy was half-kneeling on the ground. Blood from his right arm was still slowly dripping through his fingers, but it disappeared when it hit the ground. Ormazd's chest was heaving rapidly. Just now, an incredible force had grabbed him and pulled him into this space. Although it was strange to describe, he felt a natural affinity for this power, so he let it pull him away. While he was observing the surroundings, a gentle female voice sounded: "Ormazd, you've had a hard time. I'm your mother." Mother? Ormazd was puzzled. Didn't my mother die long ago? Otherwise, how could I have become an orphan? He was no longer at an age where he believed everything people said. Although what was happening to him now was rather unbelievable, in an era when people believed in the God of Light, they believed in miracles. Ormazd asked, "How can you prove that you're my mother?" The female voice said, "My child, you're very alert, and that will be helpful for what I entrust to you." Ormazd was still looking around for the source of the voice, but the female voice continued, "There's no need to look for me. I don't have a physical body now. The sun mark on your right hand was left by me when you were born. It would appear on your 18th birthday." Ormazd was even more puzzled. Indeed, the sun mark on the back of his right hand had suddenly appeared on his 18th birthday. He hadn't told anyone about it, so it was impossible for others to know. He asked again, "What do you mean by 'you all'?" The female voice said once more, "Ormazd, I don't have much time, so I'll get straight to the point. This is a war between the God of Light and the God of Darkness. The God of Darkness is about to be resurrected on the earth. If we don't stop him, the world will turn into hell, filled with corpses everywhere. You are triplets. You have two brothers. Go find them. Remember, they have the same sunmarks on their hands as you do. I've attached my power to the marks and distributed it among you. Your power is space-shuttle." Ormazd felt that the pure white space was starting to distort. He quickly asked, "How can I see you, Mom?" By now, he had already believed that the voice came from his mother. The female voice replied, "When you three brothers reunite. But hopefully, that day won't come." The sun mark on the back of his right hand emitted noticeable heat and light. In an instant, Ormazd was flung out, and he fainted immediately. Atar stared at the huge stone in front of him. His hands were gripping a pickaxe, rapidly pounding at the stone. Under the intense blows, tiny pebbles burst out from the stone. The pickaxe in Atar's hands mechanically struck the stone. His eyes furtively scanned around, observing the surroundings. The rhythmic pounding sounds were extremely sharp, torturing the eardrums of everyone present. After listening for a while and seeing no guards approaching and no one paying attention to him, his thoughts drifted. He seemed to have had a dream yesterday. A gentle female voice told him that he was a representative of the God of Light and that he was to change the fate of the slaves. He had been adrift here since childhood. An old man, taking pity on him, took him in. After the old man passed away, he was forced to become a slave in the mine. Having lived in this mine for so many years, he'd grown numb and hadn't had a dream for ages. He remembered asking the figure in the dream if he was to change the slaves' fate. Why not first rescue him from here? The female voice replied to him, "Fate is changed by oneself, not arranged." Atar looked at the heavy pickaxe in his hand. His gaze shifted slightly. On the back of his right hand, a sun mark had suddenly appeared three days ago, and then he had that dream. The two must be related. Change fate? He had a sudden realization. He wasn't born a slave, and neither were the people in this mine doomed to be slaves forever! "Pop!" The sharp, brief sound of a long whip lashing the ground echoed through the vast mine. In an instant, the pounding sounds in the mine ceased. Atar straightened up and moved a little closer to the direction where the whip-cracking sound came from. There was no guard around him. He used a large stone to conceal his body, only slightly exposing his eyes to gaze in that direction. In the dust-filled mine, the sounds of slaves pounding on the ores suddenly stopped. But after a brief moment, the mine returned to its usual state, with the clanging of strikes resuming non-stop. Atar clung to the edge of the huge rock, looking in the direction where the sound came from. An old slave was lying on the ground, moaning continuously. The exposed skin on his body was covered with red welts from the whip, and even oozing blood. In front of the slave, a girl dressed like a noble stood in front of the guard, her expression stern.