The next morning, Sancaka woke up. Before getting up, he sat cross-legged, gathering his full awareness. Once his mind felt clear, he stepped out of his room—only to find the house completely empty.
Something felt wrong. His family should have still been home, preparing for breakfast.
Suddenly, Sancaka froze.
The sunlight streaming through the window vanished, replaced by a dark, looming shadow. Then he heard screams from outside.
Reacting quickly, Sancaka rushed out—and was met with a scene engulfed in flames.
Right before his eyes, trees were burning. Leaves and branches fell, carrying sparks of fire. Nearby houses were also ablaze. His eyes scanned the surroundings—people lay motionless on the ground, covered in blood.
His head spun—until he saw his own family lying there, their bodies soaked in blood.
Sancaka ran toward them, his emotions in turmoil. His mind raced, trying to understand what had caused such a disaster. Why was his village completely destroyed?
He dropped to his knees beside his father's body. As he examined him, he found multiple stab wounds from chest to legs. Blood flowed from every wound.
Then Sancaka turned toward his mother and younger sibling—their bodies were also riddled with sword wounds.
Cradling his father's head on his lap, Sancaka suddenly felt a slight movement.
"Father! You're awake! Can you hear me? What happened here? Why is our village burning?" Sancaka cried.
His father slowly opened his mouth, his eyes still closed. His voice came out faint and weak.
"Sancaka… our village was burned by the Dharma."
"What did you say? The Dharma did this? How is that possible?" Sancaka asked in disbelief. "Aren't they supposed to be the protectors of humanity?"
"Sancaka… don't become a hero," his father said weakly. "Become… a destroyer."
"Why should I become a destroyer?" Sancaka asked, his voice trembling.
"Because the Dharma are evil… they are the true enemy," his father continued. "That's why… you must destroy all Dharma in this world."
Sancaka was about to speak again—
—but suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves echoed louder and louder.
He turned around and saw a horse charging toward him. A rider sat atop it, holding a sword.
Sancaka didn't have time to see the rider's face.
In an instant—
the blade swung.
And his head fell to the ground.