23 Movement In the Shadows (1/2)

Lewis was training silently in the cellar, the street long abandoned and ignored by the populace of the capital - even the residents of the local slums had long abandoned this corner of the capital to let it be reclaimed by the rats and insects which scoured the belly of the beast like parasites.

There's no utopia in the world of Mortals; however, there's heaven for the strong and hell for the weak there's no equality in this cold world of ours either become strong or become the stepping stones of those who are strong...

...

A lone tower stood standing in the depths of the wasteland more than ten miles away from the capital gates, deep in Hell's Forest it stood solemn and solitary hidden from the world, like something out of a fairy tale it was undisturbed as it blended into the nature around it a healthy green moss grew up the sides and a beautiful lake and waterfall could be admired from the windows on the highest floor - the tower was filled with noise: explosions, screams, cheers and sobbing.

On the top floor staring out a window a young man in his teens stared into the distance - the rising palace of the capital in full view, hatred burned furiously in the depths of his dark blue ocean like eyes as he stared at the capital palace that rose into the sky like a sword piercing the heavens themselves.

”Young Master.” A figured clad in a black cloak bowed behind the man, reverence in his eyes as if he was finally seeing the god he had worshipped for his entire life for the first time.

”Are our preparations complete?” His dark brown hair swayed with the wind as he turned, his handsome features clearly defined in the sunlight peering through the window - strangely not a speck of light approached the cloaked man however as it seemed to avoid him, focusing on the young man like a spotlight.

”Everything is in place, our troops will storm the capital and our third realm experts will storm the castle in the chaos taking down the Monarchy in an instant!” His voice had started off quiet and had ended loud and confident - he had complete confidence in the plan of the Young Master, after hiding themselves for so long the world would finally know of the brilliance of the Young Master!

These were the thoughts that went through his mind at the moment yet the young man remained indifferent as if this was merely a small part of a much larger game, ”Taking over the second layer shouldn't alert our so-called 'God.'” The words were laced with hatred, the Kingdom only had one religion and it worshipped the Creator, ”King of all beings, King of the Universe..” All titles used by King to boost his own ego to another level after being able to form his own world - of course despite being able to create a world he couldn't create living beings or creatures with souls.

Everyone that was 'trapped' here once had ancestors who had lived in the vast Universe, these ancestors had recorded how they were captured by King and forced to conform with his rule, gradually only a few still believed in the teachings of their ancestors, now anyone who dared say the Creator had forcefully imprisoned them here was branded a heretic.

The young mans name was Nine, his father had trained him and his siblings brutally since they were young; however, he had held no hope for their future - instead of naming them he deemed giving them numbers based on the order of birth was more acceptable and yet out of all of his brothers he was the final survivor.

He had cultivated like a demon and reached the Core Gathering Pinnacle Realm at the mere age of seventeen but had hidden himself from the world.

His father had told him of how the madman the people worshipped intended to merge this world with a world born from the creation of the universe itself - such an endeavor would expend much of his power and put him into a weakened state however it would also annihilate everyone in the original world.