BEYOND STEEL

CHAPTER 03

Kavrael had not expected that the mere mention of Malrakar could shake the sky’s most fearsome weapon — the cold, ruthless Thamarech — whose hands had never once trembled in carrying out any execution.

Even Kavrael, though he didn’t show it, was inwardly stunned by the reaction before him.

Thamarech stood there, his mind clearly distracted, lost in a torrent of emotions that cracked through his otherwise impenetrable composure.

Seeing this rare moment of hesitation, a dangerous thought crossed Kavrael’s mind.

This was his chance.

If he could land a fatal strike now, maybe—just maybe—he could end Thamarech once and for all.

Kavrael silently readied his weapon, hiding the movement with great care.

Then, in one swift, desperate motion, he launched his attack.

But fate was not on his side.

The weapon struck against Thamarech’s arm — the same resilient shield that had deflected his earlier attempt.

Even in this distracted state, Thamarech’s honed instincts had not abandoned him. His body moved to defend itself automatically, the reflex of a warrior who had survived countless battles.

The only difference now was the fury in Thamarech’s eyes.

A pale blue-white glow ignited in them, crackling like a storm restrained only by willpower.

Kavrael realized too late — this time, he’s dead for sure.

There were two reasons for the rage burning in Thamarech’s gaze.

First: the betrayal of trying to strike him down while he was vulnerable.

Second: the mention of Malrakar — a name that, for Thamarech, is a red line that no one can cross.

Kavrael’s body trembled. His heart hammered against his ribs.

He knew he had no hope of escaping now.

Already, Thamarech was driving his weapon into Kavrael’s body, slow and merciless.

In a final, desperate attempt to survive, Kavrael gasped:

“You… you already shattered the life of this child’s father…

Can’t you show mercy for him this time… brother?”

Thamarech froze momentarily, as if granting the dying man the courtesy of speaking his last words.

Kavrael pushed on:

“Velmior was loyal to you.

You betrayed him… you stole everything from him…”

But Kavrael was wrong.

The name Velmior did not stir sympathy in Thamarech.

If anything, it deepened his loathing.

Velmior — the one whose cowardice and treachery had led to Malrakar’s death — was no friend in Thamarech’s heart.

It was because of that cursed Velmior’s betrayal that Thamarech had lost someone irreplaceable.

It was because of Velmior that Thamarech himself had been ordered to carry out the unthinkable against his own closest friend.

Thus, instead of relenting, Thamarech’s fury grew even more savage.

The glow in his eyes blazed brighter.

And he spat coldly:

“Send my regards to Velmior… when you see him on the other side…”

Then, almost mockingly:

“…Brother!”

With a brutal thrust, Thamarech drove his weapon deeper.

Kavrael screamed from pain — his soul, glowing faintly, tore free from his body as it disintegrated into dust and ash, carried away by the uncaring wind.

Thamarech stood there, staring at the remains without a flicker of sorrow.

In truth, he had never cared for Kavrael.

And now, with his death, it felt as though he had merely swept away an obstacle — a burden he was glad to be rid of.

Silence fell.

Only the soft, almost imperceptible presence of the infant remained.

A strange stillness surrounded the child.

Throughout the fight, the baby had not cried, had not made a sound, as if sensing the grimness of the moment.

Thamarech, suspecting the worst, but as he leaned down and gently lifted the tiny form..

The warmth beneath his fingertips told him: the child still lived.

Something inside him stirred — he hesitated but then..

He placed a hand lightly on the infant’s small chest and whispered:

“I’m sorry… little one.”