CHAPTER 8.2: Vengeance shall be served

                                    

                                          
The village was serene under the pale moonlight, the air heavy with the scent of crops and the gentle hum of evening winds. Yuru Khan, now a teenager, lay in bed, still mulling over the events of the day. He had spent hours with Groxon, the son of Reynard—a man from the distant Kingdom of God Vales who had introduced the village to new farming technology. Their talk had drifted from inventions to dreams, and for a moment, Yuru allowed himself to imagine a life different from the one his father had planned for him—a life where strength could be combined with technology to shape a better future.

But that peaceful future was about to be shattered.

A blood-curdling scream echoed through the village.

Yuru bolted upright, heart pounding. His mother's voice—full of terror—ripped through the quiet night. Without thinking, Yuru sprang from his bed, grabbed his bow, and rushed outside, his bare feet slapping against the cold earth.
In the village square, Yuru froze. His father, Alric, lay lifeless on the ground, his chest soaked with blood. Standing over him was a shadowy figure, a raider with a hood obscuring his face, a gleaming sword still dripping with crimson.
"Father!" Yuru cried out, his voice trembling as fear and rage collided inside him.

The raider turned toward him, eyes cold and calculating. But before Yuru could act, his mother, frantic with grief, charged at the assailant, hands outstretched to defend her fallen husband. The raider, unphased, turned swiftly and drove his blade through her chest with ruthless precision. She crumpled beside Alric, her final breath escaping her lips in a silent scream.
The world seemed to tilt, crashing in on Yuru all at once. His parents, his protectors, lay dead before him, struck down by a faceless killer.

The raider paused, glancing back at Yuru. "You're not worth the trouble, kid," he muttered before vanishing into the shadows, leaving the boy kneeling in shock.

Yuru's breath came in short, ragged gasps. His body felt like stone, rooted to the ground where his parents lay. The night that had begun with hope and promise now dripped with blood and anguish. 
As dawn's light crept over the village, the emptiness inside Yuru was replaced by something darker—a searing desire for vengeance. The villagers gathered, offering their condolences, but Yuru barely heard their words. All he could think about was the hooded raider, the merciless assassin who had stolen his family from him. 

He overheard snippets of conversations—whispers about the raider being a hired bounty hunter. But who would want his father dead? Alric had once served as a soldier for StarFord, but those days were long behind him. Could it be that his father had been targeted by someone in the kingdom he had once sworn to protect? The thought took root in Yuru's mind, growing more sinister with each passing hour.
He replayed the last few days in his head—the arrival of Reynard and Groxon, the demonstration of the new sprinkler system, the talks of peace and progress. And yet, beneath it all, there had been an unspoken tension, a quiet warning from Reynard: "Peace is fleeting. We must always be ready." The words now rang with eerie prescience. 

Yuru couldn't shake the feeling that StarFord was somehow involved. His father had been too skilled, too honorable to die in such a way. It had to be more than just random violence. He clenched his fists, feeling the anger and sorrow twist into a burning need for justice.

The next day, Groxon found Yuru sitting by the riverbank, his bow resting beside him. The grief on Yuru's face was palpable, but beneath it, Groxon sensed something else—a hardness that hadn't been there before.
"Yuru, I heard about your parents," Groxon began hesitantly, his voice filled with sympathy. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through."

Yuru didn't respond at first. He stared out at the water, his eyes hollow. He wanted to tell Groxon everything—his suspicions, his desire for revenge—but something held him back. Groxon was a good person, full of optimism and bright ideas about the future. He wouldn't understand the darkness that now clouded Yuru's heart.
"I appreciate it," Yuru finally said, his voice distant. "But I need to handle this on my own."
Groxon frowned, concern etched on his face. "You don't have to do this alone. We're friends, Yuru. We can work through this—figure out what happened. Maybe it was just a horrible accident."
Yuru shook his head, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "It wasn't an accident," he said quietly. "And I won't rest until I find out who's responsible."
Groxon hesitated, wanting to help but sensing that Yuru had already made up his mind. "Just... be careful, Yuru. Don't do anything reckless."

Yuru nodded, though his mind was already made up. He watched as Groxon walked away, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their paths were diverging. Groxon would continue dreaming of inventions and progress, while Yuru would walk a darker road—one fueled by hatred and the thirst for retribution.
Over the following weeks, Yuru threw himself into training. He practiced his archery with a fierce determination, honing his skills until he could hit a target dead-center from unimaginable distances. He sparred with the village's few remaining warriors, pushing his body to its limits. All the while, he gathered every scrap of information he could about the bounty hunter who had killed his parents.

His search led him to grim places—taverns filled with mercenaries, dangerous dealings in the shadows of border towns. Each step brought him closer to the truth, though with each discovery, Yuru's suspicions deepened. StarFord, the kingdom his father had once loyally served, was somehow involved. The kingdom had betrayed him, just as it had betrayed his father.
Yuru's nights were haunted by memories of that fateful evening, and his days consumed by thoughts of vengeance. He kept Groxon at arm's length, not wanting to involve his friend in the dangerous path he had chosen. Groxon, sensing the growing distance between them, focused on his inventions, unaware of the storm brewing inside Yuru's heart.

One cold night, Yuru stood on the outskirts of a StarFord outpost, hidden in the shadows. He watched the guards patrol, his eyes narrowed with determination. He was so close to finding the man who had murdered his parents—so close to getting his revenge. The fire inside him burned brighter than ever, fueled by every injustice he had uncovered.
As he stared at the fortress, a dark thought crossed his mind: the kingdom that had once stood for order and justice was nothing more than a facade. It was rotten from the inside, and Yuru would be the one to tear it down.

This was the night he would begin his quest. The night Yuru Khan would set out to claim vengeance on the kingdom that had wronged him, leaving behind the boy who had once dreamed of peace and invention.
Now, he was something else—a force of retribution. The dark path stretched out before him, and there was no turning back.
Yuru Khan, once a hopeful boy with dreams of becoming a soldier, was now a man fueled by rage, prepared to carve his vengeance into the heart of StarFord—no matter the cost.