Chapter 509: Never Again!
The kids had been utterly outraged.
They had privately wept, shouted, and begged their elders to pull their weapons and fight to bring her back.
But the old men they had respected and looked up to for their entire lives did... absolutely nothing.
They stood there with slumped shoulders and hollow eyes, nodding their heads to the Zharun demands and repeating empty lines about the "greater good," the "sanctity of the pact," and how the Veynar were too weak and needed their help.
The elders were completely useless, helpless cowards who willingly traded a young girl’s life just to buy themselves some peace.
That was the exact day the illusion broke for these three hundred kids.
They realized that their elders couldn’t protect them, this time it’s Lumi and who knows next time it will be them or their sisters and mothers being traded for peace.
They finally realized that weakness was a disease.
A disease that would eventually cost them everything they loved.
It wasn’t just about losing a fight or dying in battle. It was about watching helplessly as the people they cared about were taken away, hurt, or killed while they stood by powerless.
It was about the shame of being unable to protect their friends, their families, their home.
The kind of helplessness that ate away at the soul until there was nothing left but regret and self-loathing.
When later Sol started defying the council, ignoring the traditional rules, and casually breaking those self-important warriors in the square without a hint of hesitation, he became the force they had been praying for.
They saw his power.
They saw how he moved like the wind, how he struck like lightning, how he stood tall against enemies that would have crushed them in seconds.
They saw a man who didn’t bow to tradition when it was wrong, who didn’t hesitate when strength was needed, who protected what he cared about without asking for permission.
And they steeled their young hearts to become strong like him.
As for him also being present and not doing anything during Lumi’s abduction, of course he didn’t have any reason to help. First of all, he wasn’t that strong at that time. He was still adjusting to this new environment, still figuring out his own power.
And even if he was strong enough, he didn’t have any reason to get involved.
He wasn’t one of their tribesmen. He hadn’t spent years with them, growing up under the same traditions, sharing the same hardships, learning the same ways of the Orrath.
More importantly, he was just an outsider currently given shelter by their tribe. He owed them nothing. He had no blood ties, no lifelong bonds, no obligation to risk his life for a girl he barely knew.
So they didn’t blame him.
They could only blame their own weakness.
The thought hurt more than any wound. It was a quiet, aching pain that settled deep in their chests. They had always prided themselves on being Veynar... strong, proud, self-reliant. But that day, they saw how fragile that pride really was.
Without strength, they were nothing but liabilities, they were helpless witnesses to their own tragedies.
That helplessness had burned itself into their memories like a brand.
Lumi’s silence as she was dragged away. The elders’ useless, trembling hands. The way the tribe had done nothing but watch.
Never again.
They would never be that weak again.
That was the real reason so many of them had eagerly volunteered to be the bait for this dangerous mission.
It wasn’t just about following orders. It was about proving to themselves that they could stand in the fire. That they could face death without hiding behind someone stronger. That one day, they could be the ones protecting others instead of being protected.
They didn’t care about the risk of the Coalition horde; they just wanted a chance to throw themselves into the fire, escape the useless shadow of their elders, and forge themselves into true weapons so they would never have to stand by helplessly again.
Sol looked at the raw, burning fury vibrating through their ranks.
He didn’t know what was going on in their minds, but he knew the expression of someone that had been pushed into a corner.
It was the same look he had seen in his past life... the look of people who had lost too much, been helpless for too long, and finally decided that enough was enough.
Their eyes weren’t just scared anymore. They were hungry. Hungry for strength. Hungry for revenge. Hungry to never be weak again.
"Good," Sol said flatly, his rough voice drawing every eye back to his face. "At least you lot have more spine than the old fools hiding on the other side. Those elders are completely blinded by traditions, ancient pacts, and whatever fairy tales they need to tell themselves to sleep at night. They think because a pact had been made, a snake won’t slide through the grass and bite them in their sleep."
He took a slow step closer to their line, his heavy black shadow falling over the front rank of the recruits. His expression turned serious, his voice dropping into a low, chilling tone.
"Listen to me carefully. You may think that you have already watched the worst of this world, but...this world is more ruthless and cold than you could ever have dreamt of.
And is entirely indifferent to your traditions or your treaties. A neighboring tribe that shows up right at the final watch isn’t here out of the goodness of their hearts."
He took a slow step closer to the front line of the recruits, his heavy black shadow falling over them like a warning.
"The Zharun are playing their own game. And those old men up there... the elders, the council... are too desperate for help to see the blade hidden behind their friendly smiles.
They’re clinging to old pacts and fairy tales because it makes them feel safe. But... safety is a lie in this world.
The moment you let your guard down, the knife goes in."