Kazaf: The upside down

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Kazaf felt like the ground beneath him had vanished. His father… alive?

For years, he had believed his father was dead. His mother had never spoken much about him, only saying that he had been a great man who died before Kazaf could truly know him.

Now, Alaca was telling him otherwise.

Cholo's sharp intake of breath broke the silence. "Wait… what?"

Kazaf turned to his mother, his voice tight. "Explain."

Alaca's expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes—something heavy, filled with regret. "I didn't lie to you, Kazaf. I truly believed he was gone. But a few weeks ago… I learned the truth."

Kazaf's heart pounded. "Where is he?"

Alaca hesitated, then finally spoke. "He's being held prisoner… in the cultivator world."

A cold chill ran down Kazaf's spine. The cultivator world—"down," as it was known—was dangerous enough for someone like him. But a human being held there? That was a death sentence.

Cholo whistled under his breath. "So let me get this straight. Your father—a human—is still alive in a world that despises his kind?"

Alaca nodded. "He was captured after I ran away. I never knew. I thought he had died in the chaos."

Kazaf clenched his fists. "And you just found this out now?"

Alaca sighed. "A messenger came to me. A cultivator who still owes me a debt. He risked his life to get me this information. Jalwa's men have been using your father as leverage to lure me back."

The realization hit Kazaf hard. "They want you to return."

"They want me to pay for my crimes," Alaca said bitterly. "And now that they know you exist, they'll use you too."

Kazaf's jaw tightened. He had spent his entire life trying to live outside of their world. Now, it seemed like he had no choice but to step into it.

The Weight of the Truth

Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating.

Cholo ran a hand through his hair, looking between Kazaf and Alaca. "Alright, let's be realistic. This isn't just about you anymore, Kazaf. If they've had your father all this time, then why are they making a move now? Why not before?"

Alaca exhaled slowly. "Because they weren't sure if Kazaf had inherited my bloodline. If he was weak, he wouldn't be a threat. But if he was strong…"

"They'd want to eliminate him," Cholo finished grimly.

Kazaf clenched his fists. "Then I'll go."

Alaca's eyes widened. "No."

Kazaf's voice was firm. "I have to. They're coming for you, and now I know my father is alive. I can't sit back and do nothing."

Cholo crossed his arms. "We need a plan. Rushing into the cultivator world without a strategy is suicide."

Alaca nodded. "That's why we have to be smart about this. If we move recklessly, we all die."

Kazaf took a deep breath. His mother was right. But one thing was clear—his life would never be the same again.

It was time to prepare.

A Dangerous Path

Alaca sat down on a wooden crate, rubbing her temples. "Kazaf, you have no idea what the cultivator world is truly like. You've only seen glimpses of it in the abilities I've taught you. But down there, things are different."

Kazaf narrowed his eyes. "Then tell me."

She hesitated before speaking. "Power is everything. The weak are trampled, and bloodlines determine status. Your existence is an insult to their hierarchy. A half-human with cultivator blood? You're an abomination in their eyes."

Kazaf's muscles tensed, but he remained silent.

"They will try to break you," Alaca continued. "They will challenge you at every turn. Even those who seem friendly will have their own motives. And Jalwa…" She exhaled sharply. "He is far more dangerous than you can imagine."

Cholo scoffed. "Sounds like a warm welcome."

Kazaf, however, was unfazed. He had been preparing for a fight his entire life, even if he hadn't realized it. "It doesn't matter. If my father is alive, I'm going to get him."

Alaca gave him a long, searching look before sighing. "Then you need to be stronger. Much stronger."

Kazaf met her gaze. "Then train me."

Alaca stood, her expression unreadable. "We don't have much time. But I'll do what I can."

Kazaf nodded. He wasn't afraid of pain. He wasn't afraid of training. If it meant protecting his family, he would endure anything.

And so, his path to power truly began.

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