The battlefield had long grown quiet, but the echoes of Harun's actions still rang through every corner of the realm. Four elite enemies — each capable of tearing through squads of trained hunters — had been brought down by a single boy. A boy who, not long ago, was considered just a beginner. No lineage. No reputation. Nothing extraordinary.
And yet, he had done what the strongest among them could not.
Zoya, the celebrated Moksha-level hunter known for her unmatched precision and strength, had nearly died in that battle. Her weapons had broken. Her breath had given out. But Harun—he had stood. And he had finished the fight alone.
The world didn't see a hero.
They saw a problem.
A threat.
Inside the headquarters of the AATMIK Organization—the highest authority over Dravillian energy users—whispers stirred like wildfire. In a colossal silver-white chamber, glowing with floating energy scripts and transparent screens, top-level hunters and ministers gathered around a circular table.
"This is unnatural," said one official. "No beginner should possess this scale of power."
"He overwhelmed demi-gods. Even Zoya couldn't stand against them. He's unstable."
"He's not just unstable," another voice added, "He's dangerous."
At the center sat Minister Gohan, a cold, unreadable man with skin like stone and eyes like steel. In front of him were Harun's battle recordings. He watched the feed again and again, his brows tight. Across the screen, Harun was seen tearing through monstrous beings, his Dravillian aura surging in waves that looked far beyond any Tej or even Moksha-level classification.
Before the judgment could be passed, Zoya stepped forward, her armor scorched and her left arm still wrapped in cloth. Despite the pain, her voice was steady.
"He saved us," she said. "Every single one of us. If he hadn't stepped in, I wouldn't be standing here. None of us would."
A hush fell across the chamber. Just then, the heavy gates swung open with a gust of wind, and in walked Sahil.
A tall figure clad in black armor that shimmered like obsidian, Sahil's presence seemed to suck the air from the room. Quite literally. His Dravillian stone—Void-level—granted him control over oxygen, and every step he took seemed to command the very atmosphere to obey him.
He gave Zoya a quick glance and smirked.
"You're too weak," he said. "If I were there, I would've ended the fight in minutes. Both of them wouldn't have lasted a blink."
Zoya's face didn't move. She simply turned away, refusing to engage.
Another figure entered behind him. Draped in flowing green fabrics, surrounded by swirling, razor-sharp leaves, was Radha — the third-strongest Moksha-level hunter. Her Pulse-level Dravillian stone gave her command over nature, and her presence was equally lethal.
Radha raised a brow and let out a short laugh.
"Why bother teasing her, Sahil? Zoya's just a failure who couldn't even beat second-rate threats. The boy did all the work. Let it go."
Zoya didn't respond. Her fingers twitched but she kept her voice buried under years of restraint.
Minister Gohan stood, cutting through the tension with a simple motion of his hand.
"Summon the boy."
Moments later, Harun was led into the chamber. His steps were hesitant. The stares pierced him. The eyes of high-level hunters, ministers, soldiers—all judging, all suspicious.
He stood before the council, barely able to hold eye contact.
Gohan stepped forward.
"You defeated four of them. Alone. Even when Zoya couldn't," he said slowly. "How?"
Harun blinked. He couldn't speak for a moment. The room felt like it was collapsing around him. His chest tightened. His hands shook. Then his voice, soft and cracked, finally broke through.
"I... I don't know, sir," he stammered. "Please… don't punish me. I never wanted this. My mother's sick… she's all alone at home. I don't want to be dragged into this."
He paused. Then, unexpectedly, his voice broke into sobs.
"I couldn't even save her… Leena…"
His knees buckled. He fell forward, fists clenched on the cold marble floor.
"Kael Thar killed her right in front of me. I watched it happen. And I couldn't do anything. I screamed… I begged… and then something inside me snapped. A voice told me to kill, to erase, to destroy… and I just... listened."
The room remained silent. Even Sahil stopped sneering.
Gohan leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"You've seen pain. I can hear it in your voice. But pain doesn't explain power. If you want to live freely after what you've done, you must be monitored. You must become one of us."
He raised his hand. One of the aides scanned Harun's energy field.
The results hovered mid-air.
His Bhramma level was just above average. Not absurdly high. Not divine. Just slightly stronger than most Tej-level hunters.
The ministers nodded.
"Harun. You are officially assigned the rank of Tej-level hunter."
A scoff echoed across the chamber. Sahil laughed.
"Tej-level? Really?" He stepped forward. "This fragile little boy, this walking pity parade… defeated demi-gods? Don't make me laugh."
He looked around, mockingly addressing the entire room.
"Are we pretending now? Is this a play? Did the gods forget to bless the real heroes, and hand everything to this crying child instead?"
Harun stood still.
Then, slowly, he rose.
He looked straight at Sahil.
And he smiled.
"Funny," Harun said, "coming from someone who's had a Void-level stone for years but still needs to run his mouth to feel powerful."
Sahil's expression dropped.
Harun continued, eyes unwavering.
"Tell me something, Sahil. Does your stone let you control air because you're too full of yourself to breathe naturally?"
The room fell silent.
"Or maybe you just suffocate knowing someone you looked down on yesterday… might bury you tomorrow."
Sahil's aura flared. A wave of pressure slammed into the room. Lights flickered. The oxygen thinned. His Bhramma surged, swirling into the shape of a roaring serpent behind him.
"You've got guts," he growled. "But no sense. You're one word away from dying."
Before he could advance, vines erupted from the ground.
Radha appeared beside him, arms crossed lazily.
"Relax," she said with a smirk. "You're really going to fight a Tej-level kid? What's next? A spar with toddlers?"
Her laughter was venomous.
Sahil backed away, but not before casting one final glare at Harun.
Harun stood, breathing slow.
He didn't know what was coming. He didn't know if he was ready.
But he remembered everything.
And for the first time… he wasn't afraid.