Tiren laughed, the sound bouncing against the tunnel walls, stretching out into a hollow hum that refused to die. He slapped a hand between Kin's shoulder blades. "I like you, kid! You've got spirit!" Tiren turned forward. Kin looked up. The tunnel mouth yawned open, an inviting, vast darkness. "Finally!" Kin sprinted forward.
"Kin, WAIT!"
The tunnel walls curled like burning paper, the vision smearing into a grey haze.
The Royal stood ahead, his youthful face twisted into a sinister smile. Tiren faced him, chest heaving. "I say we end this filth right here, right now!"
A pale hand withdrew a dull black pebble from a blood-red sleeve. He flicked his wrist. The object blurred across the distance.
Tiren's ankles snapped. Kill.
His hips split apart, the torso toppling. Kill.
His head rolled free across the marble. Kill.
Kin reached for his blade, but his fingers moved through thick, viscous air. The room inverted to pitch black.
"Weak."
A figure emerged from the shadows holding a dimly lit candle. A copy of Kin, his lips pulled into a predatory grin. He drifted forward, looming until his face pressed against Kin's, a reflection of the boy but twisted and wrong.
"You are so weak."
A deep, thrumming vibration filled his mind, rising in volume until the world broke.
Kin opened his eyes. He stared into the emptiness of his room. He took a breath, then rose from his bed. A knock drummed on the wood. The door swung inward.
"Kin, are you awake yet?"
Kin stretched his arms, the movement pulling at his sleep-stiffened muscles. He exhaled a long breath to chase the remnants of the dream from his mind, but the phantom image of the Royal's smile still clung to the corners of his vision.
"Oh good," she said, a smile blooming across her face. "I have a surprise for you!"
Kin squinted, one eye cracking open, his mouth tugging into a lopsided smile. "Pancakes?"
"No, something even better!" His mother beamed, shifting her feet as she brought her hands from behind her back. She stepped closer, the velvet casing snapping open.
A necklace rested within the lining. The strap was crafted from supple, dark leather, and the center gem was a bright emerald. A green aura pulsed from the stone, spreading outward in a steady, glowing wave. The item hummed in the air, a distinct, ancient resonance vibrating against his skin.
"Wow, it looks amazing." Kin reached out, his fingertips brushing the cool leather as he lifted the piece from the vintage box.
His mother giggled, her shoulders shaking with a burst of pure joy. Kin studied the stone, the green light catching in his pupils. A glimmer of concern replaced his initial awe. "How much was it mum?"
She squared her shoulders, her expression confident. "Well, I used all of the gold you gave me to get it."
Kin groaned, his posture slumping. "Mum! I will go get the money back right now."
She planted a hand against his chest, her touch firm. "Kin, its only because you've been working so hard that I want you to have this... So please take it."
Kin hesitated, his muscles relaxing under her palm. "Fine, but how does a magic item cost this much anyway?"
His mother tilted her head, searching for the words. "The shopkeeper told me this item is called 'The Green Warden' it gives a 50 point bonus do your defensive stats and another 20 points to... um something about moving fast? um."
Kin watched her struggle with the term, then offered, "Agility?"
"Yea, thats it, oh and its also an A rank item." She finished with a broad, deep smile.
Kin stared at the emerald, the glow of hypnotic light. Thats some serious bonuses and its A rank? What can money not buy?
"Kin I want you to be safe out there I know how dangerous being a raider is, but I wont stand in the way of your dreams." She looked at him with an unwavering, proud gaze.
"Thanks mum." Kin stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her in a loving embrace.
Miles away, the city streets gave way to the fortress walls of the Legion guilds headquarters. Within the main office, Kenshin sat at his desk, surrounded by mountains of paper. The desk was covered in thick stacks of reports. The only motion in the room was the incessant skritch of his expensive black pen against the parchment, a dry, abrasive rasp that served as the heartbeat of the office.
In the distance, the monotony dissolved. A voice, raw with outrage, tore through the corridor. "WHERE IS HE!"
Heavy, uneven footsteps stomped against the floorboards, growing louder with every stride. Kenshin did not look up, though his pen hovered above the page, a single drop of ink blooming into a dark star on the fiber.
"The Master is really busy right now please sir-" the secretary's voice came, breathless and thin.
The door exploded inward, slamming against the plaster with a hollow crack. The intruder stood framed in the doorway, chest heaving, his face mottled with livid crimson. Behind him, the secretary hovered, beads of perspiration slicking her forehead, her hands pressed against her chest as if trying to restrain her own heart. "Sorry Master," she squeaked, dropping into a deep, trembling bow.
The furious intruder leaned into the room, his eyes darting toward Kenshin. "IS IT TRUE?! TIREN IS DEAD!?"
The scratching of the pen stopped. Kenshin remained motionless, his hand still tight around the obsidian barrel of the pen. He looked up, his gaze heavy and unblinking. He said nothing, but the exhaustion carved into his features served as the confession.
"HOW COULD THAT HAPPEN? HE WAS ONE OF OUR STRONGEST... TELL ME!" The man's rage fractured, the grit in his voice bending into a tremor of disbelief.
Kenshin exhaled, a hollow sound of deep regret. "We wasn't prepared for what was behind those doors."
The intruder froze, his anger momentarily replaced by a raw, biting confusion. "What doors?"
Kenshin shifted his focus to his secretary, noting the stray locks of hair clinging to her damp skin from the stress. "Please Hana, could you give us a moment."
"Ofcourse master!" She scrambled backward, pulling the door shut.
The hard thud of the office door latch vanished, replaced instantly by the soft, rasping swish of straw bristles against hardwood.
Sunlight poured through the entrance of the house, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Kin's mother stood at the threshold, her hands gripping the long wooden handle of a broom, moving it with a methodical, soothing pace. She dragged the straw across the floorboards, the repetitive motions calmed her. Kin sat at the table, his spoon sliding through his meal. His focus drifted as a memory surfaced: Tiren, leaning back in his chair, eyes bright with unfiltered laughter during a rare moment of peace. The image lingered, warm and vivid, until an abrupt knock against the outer wood pulled him back. Kin froze, his spoon held mid-air as muffled, hurried greetings drifted in from the street. He finished the final bite and placed the bowl into the sink with a soft clink.
He crept toward the kitchen door, craning his neck to peer into the hallway. Senen and the others stood there, their presence casting long, tense shadows into the home. Kin looked at Senen, his brow furrowed with the heavy expectation of new, dark developments.
"Did something happen?" Kin asked, his voice low.
Senen stood in the hallway with a posture of forced calm. He kept his gaze focused solely on Kin, carefully shielding the mother from the severity of his eyes. He spoke in a tone designed to stay under her notice, keeping his words soft and measured to avoid sparking her alarm.
Senen did not smile. "We need to talk."
Kin shifted his weight, his internal conflict pulling at his chest. He wanted to shield her, to take the burden away, but the look on her face stopped him. "Mum I" he started, the apology thick in his throat as he struggled to bridge the gap between his duty and his love for her.
She did not panic. She did not protest. She simply looked at him, her chin held high with a quiet, maternal strength that transcended her fear. She knew the path he was on, and she accepted it.
"I understand Kin..." she said, the words grounded and sure.
He let out a breath, his shoulders finally losing their tension. He met her gaze, his expression softening as he offered her a slow, gentle smile, a quiet gesture of gratitude that expressed everything he could not say. She mirrored the expression, though the light in her eyes remained clouded with hidden turmoil.
"Be safe." She tilted her head, her gaze lingering on his face with an intensity that felt like a physical touch.
Kin turned, slipping out into the morning atmosphere. As the house door pressed shut, the mother was left standing alone in the hallway. The broom lay idle against her leg. The warmth of her smile dissolved quickly, replaced by a hollow, vacant look of mourning as she stared at the wood he had just stepped through.
Kin drew the heavy door of his house toward him until the latch engaged with a solid thud, leaving him standing in the entryway. The morning air hit him with transparent clarity, exposing every line of his face. The sky stretched above in a vast dome of azure, a cynical contrast to the hollow ache in his chest. A light breeze stirred the dust of the street, carrying the acrid tang of hot metal from a nearby forge. It was a day built for living, not for the grim business Senen brought with him.
Senen waited near the front garden, his silhouette etched against the morning sun, the light catching the dome of his bald head to cast a glossy shine across the curve. His features were weathered into deep crevices like dried riverbeds. He carried himself with the heavy, patient authority of a sentinel, a deliberate Disparity to the currently drumming behind Kin's chest.
"We are planning to go back to the 51st," Senen said. The old man kept his hands tucked behind his back, his posture loose yet radiating a disciplined danger.
The 51st. The name alone acted like a spark to the powder keg of Kin's grief. His hands curled into fists, the desire for retribution eclipsing all reason. "I will get my equipment now." He pivoted, his heels grinding into the pavement as he prepared to bolt back inside.
Senen moved with the deceptive lethargy of a predator, his withered hand lashing out to grip Kin's forearm. The touch was firm. It did not shake; it held with a gravity that demanded respect. "You wouldn't stand a chance against him."
Kin twisted back, his teeth bared in a snarl of raw, youthful defiance. The fire in his eyes was untamed, a blaze of pure, reckless intent that had yet to be tempered by the cynicism of age.
"As we are now we would be walking straight to our deaths," Senen stated. He held Kin's gaze, refusing to let the boy look away.
Kin did not blink. He breathed in the cool air, his chest heaving, his determination clear.
Senen sighed, his grip softening, the tension in his shoulders sliding away as he shifted his stance, slid his hands into his pockets, and lifted his head to study the vast expanse of the sky. His tone dropped, losing the harsh warning and becoming the voice of a man guiding a student through a lethal lesson. "So we are going to change that... Meet us in the training grounds by the Legions guild in one hour."
Kin's countenance locked, his features set in like molded stone. He offered a singular nod, then pivoted to make his way back home. He moved with a surging, focused intensity, the weight of the coming confrontation settling deep into his marrow. As he navigated the path, the emerald pendant suspended by a wire-thin leather cord swung against his upper chest, the stone catching the sun and igniting in a brilliant, verdant pulse against his skin.