But the battle was not over.

Because one arrow had never stopped moving.

High above the battlefield—

hidden behind the frozen storm—

a single black arrow continued falling silently through the rain.

Unlike the others, its flames burned dark crimson instead of orange.

And the moment the barefoot child sensed it—

his glowing blue eyes widened for the first time.

The little girl trembled beneath the ropes.

“M-Mister…?”

The child instantly turned toward the sky.

Too late.

BOOOOOOM.

The black arrow struck the ground beside them like a falling comet.

The battlefield exploded apart.

Mud, fire, and shattered stone erupted violently into the air while soldiers were thrown backward by the shockwave.

The hovering arrows behind the child scattered across the storm.

And for the first time since entering the battlefield—

the boy stumbled.

Blood slowly dripped from the corner of his mouth.

The surrounding soldiers froze in disbelief.

Because they had just witnessed something impossible.

The child had been injured.

Through the burning smoke—

heavy footsteps suddenly echoed across the battlefield.

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

Enemy soldiers immediately moved aside in fear.

Even commanders lowered their heads.

Because emerging through the flames—

came a gigantic armored figure wearing black iron armor covered in dragon symbols.

General Vaelor.

The man known across Ashkar as the Storm Executioner.

Rain hissed against the dark flames burning around his massive spear while dozens of chained black arrows floated behind him unnaturally.

The wounded soldiers nearby began whispering in terror.

“The Black Spear…”

“He’s here…”

Vaelor slowly removed his helmet.

A long scar crossed one side of his face.

But what terrified the battlefield most—

was his calm expression.

He looked directly at the child.

“So,” Vaelor said quietly.

“The ghost of Black Hollow finally appeared.”

The battlefield fell silent again.

The little girl looked upward in confusion.

But nearby soldiers suddenly turned pale.

Because everyone knew the legend.

Ten years earlier—

an entire royal battalion vanished during the Battle of Black Hollow.

The survivors claimed blue lightning slaughtered thousands in seconds.

They claimed a child walked through arrows untouched.

But no bodies were ever found.

The kingdom buried the truth.

And now—

that ghost stood before them again.

Rain continued pouring across the battlefield.

The barefoot child slowly stepped protectively in front of the little girl.

His wet ragged clothes clung to his thin body while faint blue electricity cracked around his fingers.

Vaelor watched him silently.

Then finally smiled.

“You look exactly like her.”

The child froze.

Just slightly.

But Vaelor noticed.

And so did the soldiers nearby.

The general slowly planted his spear into the mud.

“Do you want to know why that girl was tied to the stake?”

The little girl trembled violently.

The child said nothing.

Vaelor’s voice became colder.

“Because she carries royal blood.”

The battlefield erupted into stunned whispers.

The little girl stared upward in shock.

“I-I do…?”

Vaelor ignored her completely.

“The king ordered every surviving blood relative executed after the rebellion.”

Thunder exploded overhead.

“And your mother hid you among villagers for years.”

The little girl’s face turned pale beneath the rain.

The child’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Vaelor continued calmly.

“But then you appeared.”

He pointed directly at the boy.

“And suddenly the storm started moving again.”

Blue lightning flashed violently across the battlefield.

The child finally spoke.

His voice was quiet.

Cold.

“Who are you?”

Vaelor smiled faintly.

“The only man still alive who remembers your real name.”

The battlefield soldiers looked between them in confusion.

Rain poured harder.

The child’s glowing eyes slowly sharpened.

But something strange happened.

For the first time—

fear appeared inside them.

Vaelor noticed immediately.

Then the general reached slowly beneath his armor—

and removed an old silver pendant.

The moment the child saw it—

his breathing stopped.

Because engraved into the pendant—

was the exact same blue lightning symbol glowing faintly beneath the skin near his collarbone.

The little girl looked between them trembling.

Vaelor’s expression darkened.

“Your mother gave me this before she died.”

The battlefield disappeared into silence.

Even thunder seemed distant now.

The child stared at the pendant without moving.

Memories suddenly flashed through his mind.

A woman singing softly beside firelight.

Warm hands touching his hair.

Blue lightning illuminating a peaceful face.

Then screaming.

Fire.

Blood.

A battlefield covered in corpses.

The child staggered backward slightly.

The soldiers exchanged nervous looks.

Vaelor’s voice softened for the first time.

“You were never supposed to survive Black Hollow.”

The child whispered:

“…Mother?”

Vaelor closed his eyes briefly.

“The queen died protecting you.”

The battlefield froze completely.

Nearby soldiers dropped their weapons in disbelief.

The little girl’s eyes widened.

Queen?

The barefoot child slowly looked upward through the storm.

Rain mixed with blood across his face.

And suddenly—

the blue lightning surrounding him became unstable.

The clouds above Ashkar began rotating violently.

Vaelor immediately shouted:

“GET BACK!”

But it was too late.

BOOOOOOOOOOM.

A colossal pillar of blue lightning erupted from the battlefield into the sky.

Entire sections of earth exploded apart.

Soldiers flew backward screaming.

The frozen arrows vaporized instantly.

And standing at the center of the storm—

the child slowly lifted from the ground.

His glowing eyes had completely transformed now.

Not blue anymore.

Silver.

Pure silver.

The battlefield shook violently beneath him.

The little girl stared upward in terror.

“W-what’s happening to him?!”

Vaelor looked horrified.

Because he knew.

The royal bloodline of Ashkar carried one forbidden power.

Stormborn magic.

A power capable of controlling lightning itself.

But there was a reason the royal family sealed it generations ago.

Because once awakened completely—

it destroyed the user from within.

And the child was losing control.

Lightning began striking randomly across the battlefield.

Entire siege towers exploded.

Burning horses ran screaming through the mud.

Enemy soldiers fled in panic.

The child clutched his head violently while floating above the battlefield.

Fragments of memory continued tearing through him.

His mother dying.

The king ordering executions.

Black Hollow burning beneath endless storms.

Then—

another memory appeared.

One he had never seen before.

A throne room.

A crying infant.

And King Aldric himself whispering:

“Hide him before the prophecy awakens.”

The child’s silver eyes widened completely.

Because suddenly—

he remembered everything.

He was not an orphan.

He was the lost prince of Ashkar.

The true heir to the throne.

And the kingdom had tried to erase him.

Lightning exploded outward again.

The battlefield began collapsing beneath the storm pressure.

Vaelor shouted desperately toward him:

“ASH! LISTEN TO ME!”

The child slowly looked downward.

Ash.

His real name.

Vaelor continued yelling through the chaos.

“Your mother didn’t die to protect the throne!”

Another explosion shook the battlefield.

“She protected YOU because she wanted the storm to END!”

The child’s silver eyes trembled.

But the lightning only intensified.

Because rage was consuming him now.

The kingdom murdered his family.

Burned entire villages searching for him.

Executed children carrying royal blood.

And now—

all he wanted—

was destruction.

The sky above Ashkar cracked apart with thunder.

A gigantic vortex formed within the clouds.

Even Vaelor began stepping backward in fear.

Because he recognized what was coming.

The Storm Gate.

The ancient disaster that once destroyed half the continent centuries ago.

And Ash was about to open it completely.

The little girl suddenly cried out beneath the storm.

“Please stop!”

Her tiny voice barely survived the thunder.

But Ash heard it.

The girl looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.

“You saved me…”

The battlefield trembled violently.

“But if you destroy everything…”

Her voice broke.

“…then everyone else will lose their families too.”

Ash froze.

The storm above the battlefield hesitated slightly.

The little girl continued crying.

“You’re not like them.”

Lightning flickered wildly around Ash’s body.

The girl shook her head desperately.

“My mother always said… people who suffer the most can either become monsters…”

Rain poured heavily down her trembling face.

“…or become the reason nobody else suffers again.”

The battlefield fell strangely quiet.

Ash slowly lowered his eyes.

And suddenly—

another memory surfaced.

His mother smiling beside a fireplace.

Her voice gentle.

“The storm obeys the heart, Ash.”

Not anger.

Not hatred.

The heart.

Ash closed his eyes.

The silver lightning around him slowly weakened.

Then—

he raised both hands toward the sky.

The battlefield soldiers stared upward silently.

And the impossible happened.

The gigantic storm vortex above Ashkar slowly began closing.

The thunder weakened.

The lightning faded.

Rain softened across the battlefield.

Ash slowly descended back toward the ground.

The violent storm surrounding his body disappeared completely.

When his bare feet touched the mud again—

the battlefield became silent except for rainfall.

Vaelor exhaled shakily.

The surviving soldiers looked completely terrified.

Not of the enemy anymore.

Of the child.

Ash slowly walked toward the little girl.

Then quietly untied the ropes around her wrists.

The girl looked up nervously.

“You… won’t destroy the kingdom?”

Ash stared across the burning battlefield.

Bodies.

Fire.

Ruins.

Endless suffering.

Then he looked down at her.

And for the first time—

he smiled slightly.

A tired smile.

“No.”

Thunder rumbled softly far away.

Ash gently placed the silver pendant into the little girl’s hands.

“The kingdom already destroyed itself.”

Vaelor approached slowly through the rain.

Then—

to the absolute shock of every soldier present—

the feared Storm Executioner knelt before the barefoot child.

One knee in the mud.

Head lowered.

“The throne belongs to you, Your Highness.”

The battlefield erupted into stunned silence.

Ash looked at him quietly.

Then shook his head.

“I don’t want the throne.”

Vaelor slowly looked up.

Ash turned toward the surviving soldiers across the battlefield.

Terrified men from both armies stood frozen beneath the rain.

Some wounded.

Some crying.

Some barely old enough to hold swords.

Ash’s voice remained calm.

“But if Ashkar survives this night…”

Blue lightning flickered faintly across the distant clouds.

“…then no child will ever stand on a battlefield again.”

Nobody spoke.

Because somehow—

they believed him.

Far beyond the battlefield—

the first rays of sunlight slowly pierced through the storm clouds.

And for the first time in years—

the rain above Ashkar finally began to stop.