Ali

In the eastern Varut Desert of Kotchiwi, the yellow sand drifted in all directions, and the scorching sun seared everything it gazed down upon.

“I'll end up dry as jerky at this rate! Can't you slow down?” Two tall figures trudged through the desert in single file.

“Turn around and take a look. Not only can Varut's heat dry you up like leather,” the Camel Merchant in front said, gradually increasing his pace, “its lightning can fry you to a crisp, and the sandstorms can blow you clear across the desert...” His voice faded rapidly as his footsteps accelerated.

The figure behind stopped in confusion and turned to look back, only to see a massive sandstorm sweeping toward them, with lightning flashing at its center. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he were caught in it.

“Lotta! Wait for me! Help me unload some cargo! I can't run anymore!” The Camel Merchant, burdened with a huge cargo box, panicked as the goods scattered over the sandy ground. The sandstorm was rapidly approaching. “I guess this is my fate as a Camel Merchant, to perish along with my goods and camel!” He lay flat on the scorching sand, resigned to his fate.

“Let me help!” A young and vibrant voice suddenly resounded. Before the Camel Merchant could even react, a powerful force had already lifted him from the ground.

Camel Merchant Lobah had never imagined that he could run so fast, or rather, that he could be pulled so fast. It was as if the camel were running in front while his soul was chasing from behind! When he finally came to his senses, he found himself standing at the edge of the desert, far away from the approaching sandstorm.

“Wait! My goods!” Lobah exclaimed as he looked back at the raging sandstorm in the desert, certain that it had scattered and smashed his precious goods by now.

“Your things are all right here! I picked up everything I could find!” The bright voice rang out again, and Lobah suddenly remembered that he was only standing there safe and sound thanks to this Madrat youth who had come to his rescue.

“You're truly my hero! How can I ever thank you?” Lobah exclaimed with tears of gratitude in his eyes, knowing that he had narrowly escaped disaster.

“No need to thank me, it's only a sandstorm! I'm Ali! My training for today isn't over yet, so I'd better get going!” As the strong and cheerful voice echoed in Lobah's ears, the Madrat youth named Ali vanished into the sandstorm.

“The legend of the Madrat Clan possessing the Power of Lightning is true! I'll be sure to thank you properly when we meet again!” Lobah watched as the young man vanished into the sandstorm, his heart brimming with so much excitement and gratitude that he was unable to calm down for a while.

The Madrat Clan resides in the heart of the Varut Desert, where sandstorms rage and the temperature changes dramatically between day and night. Other tribes often avoid this region due to frequent lightning strikes. However, the Madrat Clan reveres this harsh environment. Obsessed with practicing martial arts, they consider the desert a blessed place.

“The more challenging the environment, the tougher the martial artist will become!” The Madrat Clan firmly believes in this principle.

Ali was born into the most prestigious martial arts family within the clan, inheriting the exceptional fighting talents of his parents. Even in his early childhood, he displayed astonishing explosive power. While other Madrat Clan fledglings still cried while hitting sandbags as practice, Ali could already run with one slung over his shoulders.

For generations, a legend has been passed down in the clan stating that the most formidable fighter will acquire the Power of Lightning, unparalleled speed, indomitable will, and a body impervious to lightning. Every year, the clan's martial artists gather at the temple to undergo the Lightning Trial, which grants those who pass recognition from the temple and bestows upon them the Power of Lightning.

“I can hardly think of anyone more deserving of the title of the strongest martial artist than myself!” Ali lifted his chin and eyed his fellow martial artists standing with him in front of the temple. “Those younger than me couldn't keep up, and I've already surpassed those older than me. The Camel Merchant has already spread word of my heroic deeds far and wide. There's no doubt—I'm the strongest!”

Ali pushed past the martial artists ahead of him and rushed into the temple to undergo the trial. It didn't take long before Ali, crackling with electric energy, returned before everyone's eyes.

After obtaining the Power of Lightning, Ali became even more arrogant and conceited. He would often disrupt the training and cultivation of other martial artists just to show off his power.

The Void set its sights on the Madrat Clan, believing it could lure these martial artists into darkness and manipulate them for its own purposes. The day they would release their “Master” from the seal would finally be on the horizon.

Although the Madrat Clan wouldn't involve itself in any conflicts, they would never compromise with darkness. The Thunderbreak Battle between the Void and the Madrat Clan would ravage the entire desert and leave it devastated by anguish, despair, and raging sandstorms.

The fierce “Thunderbreak Battle” in the Varut Desert lasted three years. While the nascent army of the Void was eventually driven out of the yellow sands, the Madrat Clan lost nearly half of its members to the fighting.

“If you were truly powerful, the war would have ended long ago! Our clan wouldn't have had to suffer this much!”

“You're a coward, Ali! You're not worthy of the Power of Lightning!”

“You're a shame to our clan, Ali!”

When standing on the battlefield, Ali had not once unleashed the power he took such pride in. Faced with the emergent yet daunting Void, he hesitated to strike as he felt their evil storm enveloping him, fear weighing down on every muscle in his body.

“I am the most unworthy coward to ever become the strongest fighter.” Ali looked at the temple, which now lay in ruins, and was filled with regret as the angry voices of his clan members echoed incessantly in his mind.

“Bam!” Ali punched at the stone door that had once opened to him, leaving only a shallow mark and a muffled sound. He realized he couldn't even break the damaged stone door now, so what hope did he have of defeating the enemy that could return at any moment?

Under the indifferent moonlight shining upon the gravel, Ali decided to leave his clan in the cold desert night and embark on a path of self-redemption.

“Ali, no one is born a true powerhouse. Only when you can confront your own strength head-on can you truly become powerful. I hope that by the time you return, you will have come to understand this.” Ali's mother watched her son's desolate figure vanish over the desert horizon.

Over the following years, Ali traveled to many places. The brutal realities of war progressively wore away his ego and conceit, and he lent a warm, friendly hand to every person in need he encountered along the way.

Ali spent several months as a combat instructor in the Geryon territory. It was during this time that he met Torun, the Minotaur. Ali had heard of Torun's enormous axe, but he now found Torun empty-handed.

“Torun, your tribe obeys and fears you, so why did you leave the volcano?” Ali asked Torun as they stood on a hill, facing the setting sun.

“My opponents say I'm brainless. Besides, I don't want to just keep being some brute with an axe.”

“Have you found a way to transcend yourself?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Their aimless conversation ended as dawn broke the next day. The two men, both in search of answers within themselves, eventually formed a bond.

“Ali, I'm leaving. I've met a special kid who may be able help me find the answers I seek.”

“She must be an interesting one if she's earned your recognition. It's time for me to leave as well. Staying in the same place won't allow me to see myself clearly.”

Ali and Torun set off on their journey together, and in an unnoticed corner of Kotchiwi, a new chapter of the legend quietly took flight.