The glowing green runes hovering over the stone slab finally faded into the heavy air of the medical chamber.
Horuto slowly opened his eyes.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, his hands instinctively flying to his chest.
There was no jagged steel blade protruding from his ribs.
There was only smooth, pale skin, marked by a fresh, horizontal scar over his heart.
The young warrior sat up, his mind racing.
He remembered the betrayal.
He remembered Takashi’s cold, dead expression and the swirling, dark aura in his light green eyes.
“You are awake.”
Horuto turned his head.
Master Brados stood in the archway of the infirmary, his dark eyes watching his student closely.
Horuto immediately swung his legs over the side of the stone slab, bowing his head deeply.
“Master… Takashi…”
“I know,” Brados said, his voice a low, sorrowful rumble.
“I need the exact details of what happened in that dungeon.”
Horuto swallowed hard.
“While I was fighting the masked assassin, Null, Takashi came down the spiraling stairs. He struck me from behind. I do not know why, Master… but when the guards came down, Takashi slaughtered them all.”
Brados remained quiet, his aged face turning into a mask of stone.
“We will speak more of this tonight. For now, you must rest and settle your aura.”
Horuto hesitated, looking down at his healed chest.
“Master… the healers told me that I survived because of Kenshin’s blood. Is that true?”
“It is true,” Brados confirmed.
“Kenshin offered a part of his own vitality to regenerate your severed aura pathways. You may thank him later, but he is not in a position to talk right now.”
Horuto wanted to ask further, to understand the terrifying alchemy that flowed through the boy’s veins, but a sudden commotion interrupted him.
A sanctuary guard burst into the infirmary, gasping for breath.
“Master! Forgive the intrusion, but… Null has escaped!”
Brados’s dark eyes widened.
“What do you mean?”
“We went to bind his body and retrieve his severed head,” the guard explained frantically.
“But we found a hidden tunnel carved directly beneath the spot where his body fell. He is gone.”
A violent, suppressive wave of dark-green magical pressure exploded from Brados, shaking the medical chamber.
“Takashi,” Brados growled, the betrayal cutting deeper.
“Go and track where that tunnel leads. Once you find the endpoint, do not seal it. Post our heaviest guards around it in a wide perimeter. And find Takashi!”
The guard bowed hastily and sprinted out of the room.
Horuto stood up, his olive-green eyes burning with rage.
“Master, give me the order. Let me go with them. I need to avenge our fallen guards.”
“Not yet,” Brados commanded strictly.
“Go and wash the blood from your skin. Tonight’s gathering is far more important than hunting a wounded assassin.”
Horuto gritted his teeth, but he bowed his head.
“Yes, Master.”
-Break-
Night fell over the Underward, cloaking the realm in deep shadows.
Far beyond the high walls of the sanctuary, nestled in a desolate, abandoned sector of the city, stood a small, unassuming stone house.
Dozens of elite guards formed a wide perimeter around the structure.
The house itself was enveloped in a shimmering, translucent dome of warding runes—a barrier designed to block all magical eavesdropping.
Inside the house, a single oil lantern illuminated a round wooden table. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
Master Brados sat at the head.
Horuto, Asami, and Kenshin took the remaining chairs in silence.
With a heavy, metallic clatter, Brados unclipped his weapons and placed them directly onto the center of the table.
The Green Dragon Guandao and the translucent jade-green longsword hummed with a dormant, lethal energy.
Brados folded his large hands together and looked directly at the scarred teenager.
“Kenshin,” Brados began, his voice echoing in the small room.
“Do you know what this realm is called?”
Kenshin remained quiet for a moment, his dark-green eyes shifting from the weapons to the Master.
“I… do not know.”
“This dimension is known as the Endlerworld,” Brados explained.
“Within this world, there are many different sovereign territories—nation-states. For example, we are currently standing in the Underward. There are many others: the Darkward, the Miloward, the Magiward, and the Eyarward.”
“The Underward?” Kenshin asked, his brow furrowing.
“How do I know I am from the Underward?”
“When someone is born, their citizenship depends on which Ward their family originates from,” Brados said patiently.
“Your family was from the Underward. The sovereign leader of our nation-state is an honorable man. Each Ward maintains its own standing army. While conflicts between territories do occur, they are rare. Currently, all Wards maintain a fragile peace with one another.”
Kenshin processed the information.
For eleven years, his entire universe had been a pitch-black dungeon.
“How can someone change their nation-state? And how do you know what Ward my family is from?”
“If a person wishes to change their allegiance, there are strict laws,” Brados answered.
“First, they must be over twenty years of age. They must provide a formal declaration stating why they are leaving. If they leave permanently, they cannot return to their previous nation-state for at least one full year. Beyond that, there are no physical chains keeping someone here.”
“I see…” Kenshin muttered.
“But what if someone lies about their allegiance to sneak into a different Ward? How can you guess where someone is truly from?”
“We cannot guess,” Brados said.
“But we ask. And they will tell the truth.”
“What if they lie or hide it?” Kenshin challenged.
Asami leaned forward, her icy blue eyes reflecting the lantern light.
“That is impossible. If someone lies about their allegiance, they die within one day.”
Kenshin frowned in disbelief.
“How?”
“Because of the ancient Strong Holders,” Asami explained.
“One of them, a woman named Amenriyo, possesses an absolute sensory domain. It is a magical law woven into the realms. If someone lies about their nation-state, Amenriyo instantly senses it through her power. We do not know the exact mechanics behind it, but that is the reality we live in.”
Kenshin opened his mouth to ask another question, but he never got the chance.
SLAM.
Brados violently snatched the heavy bronze hilt of his jade sword and slammed it into the wooden table.
The thunderous impact rattled the lantern.
Kenshin flinched, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon he did not have.
He looked at Brados in alarm.
The Master raised a single finger to his lips, demanding absolute silence.
For three agonizing, suffocating minutes, no one in the room dared to breathe.
The heavy magical pressure radiating from Brados pushed Kenshin back into his chair.
Finally, Brados lowered his hand.
“If someone speaks the true name of one of the Nine, that entity can sense it. They can hear our conversation across dimensions.”
Kenshin’s eyes widened.
“How?”
“That is an uncovered system of the universe that we cannot discuss,” Brados said strictly.
“Wait,” Kenshin said, his mind racing to catch up.
“Asami said there were nine Strong Holders once. What does that mean?”
Brados leaned back in his chair, his shadowed eyes growing distant, as if gazing across centuries of bloodshed.
“Listen carefully now,” Brados commanded.
“Especially you, Kenshin. There were indeed, once, Nine Strong Holders. I was one of them.”
Asami and Horuto remained perfectly still, having heard fragments of this history before, but Kenshin’s jaw went slack.
“We were the absolute apex entities,” Brados continued.
“There were four females and five males. We controlled multiple realms, including this Endlerworld. Our true home was a higher dimension called the Gladians and Wings. The flow of time there is vastly different. One single day in the Gladians is equal to one entire year here in the Endlerworld.”
Kenshin’s breath hitched as the sheer scale of the universe expanded in his mind.
“There was a sovereign leader,” Brados said, his voice heavy with ancient regret.
“He was not chosen by blood, but by absolute power. His name was Bellod. I was his closest friend. Together, Bellod and I directed the other seven. From the females, there was Miluki, Honoka, Hayami—whom Asami just mentioned as Amenriyo—and Hikari. A woman named Lilogi took the seat after Hikari eventually abandoned the Nine.”
Brados paused, locking his dark eyes directly onto Kenshin.
“And from the males… there was Bellod. Arguton. Amator. Myself, Brados. And… Zenjiro. Your father, Kenshin.”
The world stopped.
Kenshin froze.
His blood ran instantly cold, a jolt of terror and absolute disbelief paralyzing his vocal cords.
“Zenjiro… was from… the Strong Holders?” Kenshin whispered, his voice cracking into a hollow rasp.
His father was not just a wealthy merchant or a strict noble.
His father was an ancient, apocalyptic entity who ruled dimensions.
Brados gave a slow, solemn nod.
“He still is. Zenjiro’s loyalty to King Bellod is absolute. He embodies both loyalty and royalty. But centuries ago, whenever Zenjiro found himself in trouble, he came to me.”
Brados rested his hand on the sculpted golden dragon head of his Guandao.
“A long time ago, while we were sitting upon our thrones in the Gladians, we detected a massive, foreign realm hurtling through the cosmic void,” Brados explained, his tone shifting into that of a storyteller.
“It was moving at a terrifying velocity, on a direct collision course with our dimension. It was not controlled by us.”
“We sent an invitation for their leader to parley,” Brados continued.
“A reply came. But when the envoy arrived, it was not a Gladeon. It was a Dragon.”
Kenshin’s eyes flicked to the jade blade resting on the table.
“He possessed a muscular, humanoid figure, but he was far larger than any of us. He had scales of deep green and massive wings that eclipsed the sun. He stood on two feet, wielding a lengthy green sword. He announced himself not as a king, but as a mere soldier named Riki. He had the courage to enter the stronghold of the Nine entirely alone.”
Brados smiled faintly at the memory of the dragon’s bravery.
“Riki informed us that neither of our realms could halt their momentum. Our dimensions were going to violently collapse into one another within hours. Riki stated that his people did not want war, nor did they fear it. They simply wanted to survive. He proposed that we all evacuate to a third, nearby realm. We would split this new world down the middle—half for the Gladeons, half for the Dragons. Once both of our civilizations had fully evacuated, we would peacefully part ways and find new permanent homes.”
“Did you agree?” Horuto asked quietly.
“We did,” Brados nodded.
“We shifted to the third realm. It was there that we finally met their sovereign. The Dragon King, Draglus. He was a being of primordial power, yet he possessed a wise and kind heart. We never had a single issue living alongside Draglus and his people.”
Brados’s expression darkened, the warmth leaving his eyes.
“But Bellod wanted to destroy them,” Brados said, his voice turning bitter.
“We did not know why. We had a peaceful agreement. But Bellod lusted for extermination. He convened a secret council of the Nine, ordering us to prepare a sudden, treacherous ambush against the Dragons.”
“Amator, Miluki, and Arguton enthusiastically agreed with Bellod. Zenjiro stated that he would remain neutral, but if the King gave the absolute order to march, his loyalty dictated he would obey.”
Brados gripped the edge of the wooden table, his knuckles turning white.
“Only Hikari and I refused. Bellod told us that if we did not agree to the slaughter, we would be cast out from the Strong Holders. Hikari stood up from her throne. She declared that she would never partake in a cowardly massacre. With a final goodbye, she abandoned her seat and left our dimension.”
Brados looked down at his calloused hands.
“For the first time in millennia, the Nine were fractured. And I… I left as well.”