Chapter 3 The Truth Behind the Lie

Back at the palace, General Brutus dragged Helena's body before Cassian. The new king sat on the throne, a cruel smile on his face.

"Your Majesty, we have killed the woman as ordered," Brutus said, bowing low. "But the boy fell into the river. The current was strong and there are many beasts. He's surely dead."

Cassian stood and walked to Helena's body. He looked down at his sister without any emotion. "Are you certain the boy is dead? I want proof."

Brutus shifted nervously. "Your Majesty, no one can survive that river. Even trained warriors fear it. A seven-year-old child has no chance."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. I asked for proof!" Cassian's voice was sharp as a blade.

"We... we searched the riverbank for hours, Your Majesty. We found nothing. The beasts must have eaten him."

Cassian was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Very well. Prepare a funeral for my dear sister. Make it grand. Let everyone see how much I loved her."

Brutus looked confused. "Your Majesty?"

"You fool! The people must think this was a tragic accident, not murder. We'll say bandits attacked the palace. The king and queen died defending the kingdom. Their brave son tried to escape but drowned in the river. I, the grieving brother, took the throne to protect the kingdom in this dark time."

Brutus bowed deeper. "You are wise, Your Majesty."

"Now take Alexander's body and throw it to the dogs. That outsider doesn't deserve a funeral."

After everyone left, Cassian sat alone on the throne. His face showed no joy, only cold calculation. "Marcus... if you're alive somewhere, grow up fast. I need a reason to build my army stronger. A lost prince seeking revenge makes the perfect excuse."

Meanwhile, far away in a place beyond the mortal realm, two figures stood on a mountain peak that touched the clouds.

The man and woman looked exactly like Alexander and Helena.

Helena gazed out at the endless sky. Though she looked calm, her hands trembled. "Husband, did we do the right thing? Leaving our son like that?"

The man who looked like Alexander smiled slightly. "He'll be fine. If he can't survive in such a small world, he's not worthy of being my son."

"But he's only seven years old! He must be so scared and alone right now."

"That fear will make him strong. That loneliness will forge his character." The man turned to face his wife. "You know who I really am. You know why we had to do this."

Helena's eyes filled with tears. "I know you're not really Alexander. I know you're someone far greater. But does that make abandoning our child right?"

"We didn't abandon him. We gave him the greatest gift-the chance to become truly strong. If he stayed with me, he would grow powerful, yes. But he would always be in my shadow. He would never reach his full potential."

"And if he dies?" Helena whispered.

"Then he was never meant for greatness." The man's voice was hard. "Only those who face death and survive can stand at the peak of this universe. Pain, humiliation, suffering-these are the fires that forge legends. Without them, he's just another privileged prince."

Helena wiped her tears. "I understand with my mind. But my heart... my heart is breaking."

The man took her hand gently. "I know. But you must trust me. I've seen countless worlds rise and fall. I know what it takes to become someone who can change the universe. Marcus has potential beyond anything you can imagine. But only hardship will unlock it."

"How long must we stay away from him?"

"Until he's strong enough to find us himself. Until he surpasses even me." The man looked at the stars. "My real identity must remain hidden. If people knew who I really am, they would either worship Marcus or kill him. He must make his own path."

"And what about Cassian? He's truly evil."

The man smiled coldly. "Cassian is a tool. He doesn't know it, but he's serving our purpose. The hatred Marcus feels will drive him forward. Every memory of today will fuel his growth."

"You're using our son's pain as a training tool," Helena said bitterly.

"I'm giving him the motivation to become a god." The man pulled her close. "Trust me. One day, Marcus will thank us for this. One day, he'll understand that true strength comes from climbing up from the very bottom."

He raised his hand and tore through space itself. A rift appeared, showing stars and galaxies beyond. "Come. We must return to the Higher Realm. My absence has been noted. If I stay away longer, war will consume the entire universe."

"Will we ever see him again?" Helena asked as they stepped toward the rift.

"Yes. When he's ready. When he's strong enough to stand beside me not as my son, but as my equal." The man looked back one last time. "Grow strong, Marcus. Hate me if you must. But grow strong. The universe needs you."

They stepped through the rift and disappeared. Behind them, in the small world below, a seven-year-old boy slept by a river, dreaming of revenge, unaware that his father watched from beyond the stars.

Marcus woke with a start. He was lying on a soft bed in a small wooden room. Sunlight came through the window. For a moment, he forgot where he was.

Then everything came rushing back. His parents. The attack. The river.

He sat up quickly and pain shot through his body. He was covered in bandages.

The door opened and Lydia walked in carrying a bowl of soup. "You're awake! Grandfather said you'd sleep for days, but you're already up."

"Where am I?" Marcus asked.

"The Iron Sword Academy. This is the guest house. Grandfather brought you here last night." She set the soup down. "You should eat. You've been sleeping for two whole days."

Two days? Marcus looked at his hands. The cuts and bruises were almost healed. His body was recovering impossibly fast.

"Lydia, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"This academy... do they teach people to become strong warriors?"

Lydia nodded. "Of course! It's the best sword academy in the entire Silvermere Region. Grandfather is the founder and headmaster. He's super strong!"

Marcus's eyes gleamed with determination. "Then I want to train. I want to become the strongest."

Lydia laughed. "Everyone says that when they first arrive. But training is hard. Most people quit."

"I won't quit," Marcus said quietly. His voice was soft but had steel in it. "I can't quit. I have promises to keep."

Something in his eyes made Lydia stop laughing. She saw something that shouldn't be in a seven-year-old's eyes. Something cold and determined and a little frightening.

"Okay," she said softly. "I believe you."