The day he had waited for so long had finally arrived.
His 18th birthday. A day that marked the culmination of years of struggle, pain, and growth. His heart swelled with a rare sense of anticipation, something he hadn't felt in years. Today, he would visit his mother. After all this time, after all that he had achieved, this was the moment he could finally tell her about his feats, about everything he had learned and accomplished.
He had trained tirelessly, his body honed to perfection. The martial arts he had mastered were beyond what anyone could imagine. Yet there was something more—something beyond the physical prowess he had gained. His internal power, drawn from the blood of ancient gods and the strength of demons, flowed like an unstoppable river. His every move carried the weight of divine forces. He felt invincible, untouchable. It was his time to shine.
As he approached the cottage, the winds whispered softly, carrying with them the scent of fresh earth. The setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, bathing everything in warmth and light. There was a certain tranquility about the moment—an expectation of peace, of reunion. His pulse quickened with excitement.
But as he reached the door, a heavy, bitter scent wafted toward him. The door, usually a symbol of warmth and comfort, stood cracked open, the frame splintered slightly as if something had been forced open. His heart skipped a beat.
He entered cautiously, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet. His eyes immediately fell upon the figure of his mother, lying motionless on the floor, her body bruised and battered. Her once-beautiful face was unrecognizable, swollen and discolored from the torment she had endured. Blood pooled around her, staining the floor, and her labored breaths were a desperate rasp, barely audible.
In the corner of the room, his relatives—those who had once been family—stood laughing, their cruel faces twisted in malice. They taunted her, kicking her, striking her as if she were nothing more than a discarded ragdoll. Every word they spat was venomous, filled with contempt. But it wasn't the words that shook him. It was the sight of his mother, the woman who had raised him, the woman he loved more than anything, pushed to the brink of death.
A flood of emotions surged through him. Rage. Horror. Helplessness. But above all, a primal need to protect, to defend, to annihilate anyone who dared harm his mother. His chest tightened with the pressure of emotions he had kept suppressed for so long.
And then—something in him snapped.
His anger reached a level that even he could not comprehend. The blood that ran through his veins, blood infused with the essence of the Divine Dragon God, the Ancient Supreme Martial God, and the Strongest Demon God of History, began to boil. His heart pounded with the power of ages, of gods, of untold forces that had lain dormant within him for so long. The primal power surged to the surface, rattling his very core.
It was then that he realized—the MC's body, which had been suppressing his true abilities all this time, could no longer hold back. His eyes, once sealed for 18 years, flickered open.
The moment they did, the world around him shook.
The air grew thick, like the very atmosphere itself had become charged with an unimaginable force. The sky cracked open as if the heavens themselves could not withstand the power that was now awakening. A thunderstorm raged over the land, the heavens trembling under the weight of his fury. Lightning split the sky, but it was not from the storm—it was from him. The ground beneath him trembled as though it feared the power now coursing through him. The earth groaned under the pressure of his energy, as if it too had become a slave to the presence that had just been unleashed.
Around him, the very air became thick with fear. Every living creature, every martial artist, every soul within a hundred-mile radius could feel it. It was not just a force—it was a presence. An undeniable aura that crushed all in its wake. It was as if the universe itself had been redefined, and everyone in its path felt it. They could not move, could not breathe, as if the weight of the MC's presence had paralyzed the entire world.
The martial artists of the seven kingdoms, the strongest beings on earth, were all reduced to trembling husks of their former selves. Their hearts skipped beats in terror. They could feel it in their bones—the awakening of something far beyond their understanding. Fear gripped their very souls. Some tried to push forward, seeking answers, desiring to confront the source of this power. But they found themselves frozen, unable to take a single step, for their bodies simply could not handle the overwhelming pressure. Internal organs burst, veins exploded in their bodies, and the shockwaves of the MC's presence rippled through the land.
And then there were the culprits—those who had dared to harm his mother. The people who had tortured her, laughed at her suffering. They stood in the corner, still oblivious to the danger closing in on them. But then, the ground beneath them buckled, and they were dragged down into the earth with the force of a thousand storms. Their bodies were crushed to dust, not even a single bone remaining. Their cries for mercy were drowned out by the roar of the universe itself.
The MC's power surged even further, and his mother, lying broken and battered on the floor, began to feel the warmth flood her. The very energy that had awakened within her son now coursed through her body, healing her completely. The gaping wounds, the broken skin, the bruises—all of it began to heal as though time itself was reversing. Her heart, once on the brink of death, began to beat stronger. Her lungs, once failing, now filled with air. Her breath, ragged and shallow, steadied as the MC's life-giving energy enveloped her.
For a brief moment, she opened her eyes, staring up at the being before her. His features were different now, not just a boy but a force of nature, an absolute being. His presence radiated with the power of the gods, demons, and martial legends that had been fused within him. The sight of her son, standing in all his glory, took her breath away.
But as the last remnants of his strength were exhausted, he collapsed. His body, exhausted from the sheer force of the release, crumpled to the ground. Every bone in his body felt as though it had shattered. His muscles screamed in agony as the energy drained from him. The MC fainted, falling to his knees, his vision blurring. But before he lost consciousness, he crawled to his mother's side.
He gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. Tears fell from his eyes, not out of pain, but out of relief. Relief that his mother was safe, that he had protected her, that he had done what he promised himself he would do.
When the MC opened his eyes once more, the world felt different. It was as if everything had changed, as if the very air itself had become something new, something more significant. His body was battered, his strength sapped, but in that moment, he felt at peace.
His mother, still trembling from the sheer power she had witnessed, looked at him. Her voice, trembling and weak, came through in a whisper:
"Asura."
The name she gave him resonated within him like the ringing of a bell. The name of a being who had transcended his mortal limits. The name of a god and demon merged as one. Asura. A name that would now be known across the seven kingdoms.
A name that would shake the very heavens.
And so, in the silence that followed the storm, the MC—the one who would be known as Asura, the absolute being, the destroyer and creator of worlds—stood tall. The legend had begun.