The Epic Tale of Chaos vs Order Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Prologue (I)
In a secluded corner of a vast continent, a violent conflict was unfolding. Given the overwhelming military power of one side and their ruthless slaughter of every man, woman, and child, it was more accurate to describe the event as a genocide than a war.
Soldiers clad in heavy blue military uniforms marched alongside tanks and various armored vehicles. They stormed a great city, butchering the inhabitants with their firearms.
The city streets ran red with blood. This was the ancestral home of the Crimson People, a race distinguished by their striking white hair and red-irised eyes.
Centuries ago, the reclusive Crimson People had migrated to this desert. Despite the unforgiving climate, their tireless labor allowed them to flourish, building a nation that stood firm against the test of time.
Tragically, the prosperity they carved out of the sands ignited the avarice of the Great Star Kingdom.
While previous Star Kings ignored these lands, believing them uninhabitable, the Crimson People had proven otherwise. Now that the desert possessed immense value, the reigning monarch, Sunit the Great, resolved to seize it.
Because the Crimson People were known to be fiercely independent and difficult to subjugate, Sunit the Great bypassed the effort of integration, choosing instead a more violent path.
Initially, the Great Star Kingdom attempted diplomacy, but the terms offered were rejected by the Crimson People, as the conditions were little more than a sentence to slavery.
.....
This rejection was exactly what the Star King anticipated. After orchestrating a public charade to demonize the Crimson People and claiming that peaceful options were exhausted, he used a flimsy pretext to launch a war of total extermination.
The Crimson People resisted with great courage, but they were no match for the might of the Great Star Kingdom. In less than a month, the capital fell to the invading forces.
Perched on a nearby mountain, a boy no older than five watched the destruction. His white hair and red eyes marked him as one of the Crimson People. From his vantage point, he witnessed the fall of his home.
The atrocities of war are enough to leave deep psychological scars on any adult; such a horrific sight should have been unbearable for a small child. Yet, the boy remained unmoved.
His small eyes betrayed no hint of terror, resentment, or grief. They were entirely void of emotion.
The sound of approaching footsteps caused the child to turn. Five men in military uniforms cresting the mountain ridge soon reached his position.
He looked at their weapons and the crazed, bloodthirsty grins on some of their faces, yet he did not flinch. After a brief look at the five men, he returned his gaze to the burning city below.
“Here is one of them. Let’s finish this small rat.” One soldier took aim at the boy with his rifle. A sadistic smile crossed his face as he imagined the impact of the bullet.
“Stop!” another soldier shouted, shoving the rifle barrel down. This man, named Jona, looked at the child with eyes so full of fury and remorse that he couldn't hide his feelings.
Infuriated that his entertainment had been interrupted, the soldier with the twisted smile snapped at his comrade.
“What do you think you are doing, Jona? Our mission is to kill every single one of these rats!”
Hearing those words only intensified Jona’s feelings of guilt and anger.
“They order us to kill women and children. How the fuck can we obey such insane orders!”
“You should know the price for going against our orders!” The bloodthirsty soldier remained cold and persistent.
“We can just say we didn't find him. We don't have to keep sinking into this depravity.” Jona maintained his grip on the rifle and turned to the boy. “Child, run now!”
The boy didn't move; his eyes remained fixed on the city. To any observer, it would seem his mind had snapped under the trauma, leaving him unable to understand the danger.
“You see, he has lost his mind. It is best if we end his suffering now.” The predatory soldier shoved Jona aside and took aim once more.
Before the trigger could be pulled, the boy extended his hand toward the group and clenched his fist.
In an instant, sharp spikes of earth erupted from the ground, skewering all five soldiers and killing them where they stood. With a single gesture, the child had ended both the merciful and the cruel.
Just as the death of his kin had failed to move him, the act of killing these men sparked no reaction. Once the distraction was dealt with, the boy’s focus returned to the ruins of the city.
“Had I dominated this power sooner, I could have saved them.”
Though the words suggested a man burdened by regret, the boy spoke them without a shred of feeling. He was simply acknowledging a fact, devoid of any emotional weight.
He took one final look at the city before standing up to depart. As he walked, he reached out toward the corpses of the soldiers, drawing the blood from their bodies toward himself.
Streams of crimson swirled around the child’s frame, solidifying into a deep red robe. Across the back, two words were embroidered in threads of milky white.
“RED KING.”
At only four years and three days old, the Red King stood alone, having watched everyone he knew perish.