Part 4: Azral's Legend

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 Tormented at a very young age. So young, yet so stout. Azral remained upon earth with nothing but a spear made out of bamboo. He would thrive, hunting down animals for food and burying himself beneath the soils for protection from what type of danger that may come. Life became hard for the lad as he grew older.. His vision upon reality being tainted by rage. As hate became his burden, it also became his cornerstone of strength. With it, he would strive. 

Azral tamed beasts and built his own shelter with clay. And eventually, he would realize the gift he was given by the gods of Elfheria. Despite having no eyes to see, he would learn to use his other senses.. Enhancing it by the power of meditation. Azral spent a thousand years within his home with no  food and water. After such a long period of meditation, he survived. He walked out of his house, his hair touching the ground as it became so long, holding his spear still. And so, he destroyed his house made out of clay and snapped his bamboo spear as he felt reborn. Azral run in an insane speed, ramming himself upon the obstacles that stands upon his path. Taking it down in a single blow with his fists. 

Azral felt unstoppable with such strength and speed. He became as bold as a rogue warrior in the midst of a battle. Fear was swept away from within himself as the rage that thrives from within, whispers upon his ears. And so, he became the defender of the forest where the ruins he was left upon.

The dreadful defender was not familiar of mercy.. The bandits that dared visit his home would immediately be killed by the hands of a being whose race is unknown. He hung their corpse upon the branches of the dead trees that no longer sprouts foliage. The corpse of the slain bandits would be a sign of danger and warning. And so, the existence of Azral and his anonymity became Briar's legend and folktale.

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