Kenshin did not remember the run back to the sanctuary.
His bare feet hammered against the cold cobblestones of the Underward, his breath tearing through his lungs in ragged gasps.
He ran with a desperate, reckless speed, passing through the heavy iron gates of the stronghold without acknowledging the stunned guards.
His mind was a shattered mosaic.
They are alive.
It was a lie.
A calculated trigger.
Ten years of absolute suffering in the dungeon, believing he was entirely alone in the world.
The phantom pain of his broken fingers, the acidic alchemy burning in his veins—all of it had been endured under the agonizing belief that his family was dead, erased by the very man who orchestrated his torture.
He burst through the heavy mahogany doors of the Grand Hall, practically ripping them off their hinges.
The vast, circular room was no longer empty.
Standing near the center, bathed in the warm, flickering light of the braziers, were three figures.
Kenshin skidded to a halt.
His breathing hitched, his heart slamming against his ribs so violently he thought it might shatter his sternum.
Standing before him was a breathtakingly beautiful woman.
Her dark-green hair, a shade so rare it caught the light like spun emerald, fell softly over her shoulders.
She wore an elegant, dark linen dress, her hands clasped tightly against her chest.
Her pure dark-green eyes—the exact same eyes that Kenshin possessed—were shimmering with heavy, unshed tears.
It was Asuka.
His mother.
Kenshin froze.
His heavily scarred, muscular body locked into place.
Fading, broken memories from his childhood flashed across his fractured mind.
The scent of crushed lilac and fresh parchment.
The warm, soft smile she gave him in the sunlit corridors of their estate.
The gentle kiss she placed on his forehead right before Zenjiro dragged him down into the darkness.
Asuka’s hands trembled.
A watery, devastating smile broke across her face.
“It has been a while… my son,” Asuka whispered, her sweet voice breaking under the weight of an eleven-year separation.
A bubbly, agonizing sob escaped Kenshin’s lips.
The ferocious, immortal warrior who had effortlessly slaughtered guards in the courtyard vanished entirely.
In that moment, he was just a broken, terrified five-year-old boy.
Tears flooded his dark-green eyes, streaming down his pale, scarred cheeks.
He rushed forward, throwing himself into his mother’s arms.
Asuka caught him, clinging to him with a desperate, crushing grip.
She buried her face into his messy blackish hair, crying uncontrollably.
Kenshin buried his face in her shoulder, screaming.
It was not a scream of pain, but a scream of absolute, unadulterated release.
He cried hard, his voice rising in a feral mix of rage, sorrow, and profound relief.
He wept until there were no tears left in his soul, gripping the fabric of her dress as if the universe would pull her away if he let go.
“I missed you… too much, my son,” Asuka sobbed, her delicate hands trembling as she stroked his scarred back.
“My Ritsu. My brave boy.”
They stood there for a long time, the heavy silence of the Grand Hall broken only by the sound of a mother and son weeping.
After a few minutes, the heavy doors opened again.
Kenshin turned his tear-streaked face.
Walking into the hall was Ren.
At fifty-six years old, she had not aged a day in appearance, maintaining the peak of her Gladeon adulthood.
Her black hair fell straight past her shoulders, and her dark-green eyes were wide with suppressed emotion.
She still possessed the strict, authoritative beauty that Kenshin vaguely remembered, but her bossy exterior was entirely melted away by tears. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Ren walked toward him.
She reached out, placing a trembling hand on Kenshin’s scarred arm, gently stroking his skin just as she had when he was a child.
“Ritsu…” Ren whispered, a single tear slipping down her fair cheek.
“My boy… my strong, greatest brother.”
She kept her hold on him, managing a silent, overwhelming happiness.
She did not want to lose her composure, remembering she was the protective elder sister, but her heart was fracturing with joy.
Then, a much smaller figure stepped out from behind Ren.
It was Akari.
She was no longer the waddling toddler Kenshin remembered.
She was fourteen years old now, possessing a delicate, slender frame and a flat chest.
Her dark greenish hair was tied back, and her pure blackish eyes—the exact opposite of Kenshin’s—were wide with awe and sorrow.
Akari hesitated for only a heartbeat before rushing forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Kenshin’s waist.
“Big brother…” Akari cried softly into his chest.
“Are you okay…?”
Kenshin placed his heavy, scarred hands on his sisters’ shoulders, pulling them close.
“I cannot believe…” Kenshin rasped, his voice thick and broken.
“I cannot believe you are all alive.”
He held his family tightly, the warmth of their bodies grounding his fractured mind.
But as the initial wave of overwhelming relief subsided, a dark, heavy realization settled into Kenshin’s chest.
He pulled back slightly, looking into Asuka’s tear-filled, pure dark-green eyes.
“Mother…” Kenshin asked, his voice trembling with a terrifying suspicion.
“Did you know… about this?”
Did she know that he was locked in the dungeon beneath their own home?
Did she know that Null was pouring acidic alchemy into his veins while she sat in the sunroom above?
Asuka remained silent.
Her beautiful face twisted in profound agony.
She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
“It was what was necessary,” Asuka finally said, her voice dropping to a heartbreaking whisper.
“Your father told me everything. It was a long journey, Ritsu… it was so hard to bear. The thought of you in pain, chained in the dark… it tore my soul apart every single day.”
Kenshin’s eyes widened, a cold dread washing over his heart.
“But this is what was best for you,” Asuka continued, tears spilling down her cheeks once more.
“I know it was not easy. I know what you suffered in that vault was far worse than the pain I bore losing my child for eleven years… but what happened was only for your protection. The King would have killed you, my son. Try to understand…”
Kenshin stared at his mother.
A deep, feral part of his brain screamed for an explanation.
It wanted to roar, to demand how a mother could allow her five-year-old child to be mutilated for the sake of survival.
But Kenshin remained quiet.
He looked at Ren’s protective tears.
He looked at Akari’s innocent relief.
He looked at the devastating, absolute heartbreak etched into Asuka’s beautiful face.
They had suffered, too.
Zenjiro had forced his entire family to live with the agonizing knowledge that their youngest son was being tortured beneath their feet, all to satisfy the tyrannical laws of King Bellod.
Kenshin did not argue.
He swallowed his rage, forcing the dark aura deep down into the recesses of his soul.
Just then, the heavy mahogany doors opened once more.
Master Brados walked into the Grand Hall.
The ancient warrior carried his heavy Green Dragon Guandao in his right hand.
He stopped a respectful distance away, simply standing there in silence, allowing the family their moment.
Asami and Horuto followed the Master into the hall, standing quietly near the entrance.
Horuto was pale but steady, the healing magic still working on his chest. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Kenshin stared at the floor for a long time.
The weeping had stopped, replaced by a heavy, profound acceptance of his new reality.
He finally turned to Brados.
“What now?” Kenshin asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Are they coming to kill me with Zenjiro?”
“Zenjiro will try his absolute best to save you,” Brados replied, his deep voice rumbling.
“That is exactly why he gave me the responsibility of protecting you. He trusts no one else.”
Brados planted the heavy shaft of the Guandao against the marble floor.
“We have five years,” Brados declared.
“Five years of Endlerworld time to train you, to prepare for the fight. King Bellod and the remaining Strong Holders will arrive.”
The Master’s dark eyes locked onto the scarred teenager.
“Kenshin… starting tomorrow, you are going to begin your true training. Horuto will be your instructor.”
Kenshin remained quiet.
He looked at his scarred hands, then at his weeping mother.
“If I say I want peace…” Kenshin whispered, his voice cracking slightly.
“If I say I do not want to fight. I got my family back. Can we not… can we just run somewhere? Hide in another realm?”
Brados simply, slowly, shook his bald head horizontally.
There was nowhere to hide from the Strong Holders.
Kenshin exhaled a heavy breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
The naive hope of a normal life shattered permanently.
“So,” Kenshin muttered, wiping a streak of dried blood from his jaw.
“Why are you not going to teach me directly, Master?”
“Because you are not worthy yet,” Brados said strictly, his authoritative tone returning.
“Tomorrow, right after the first light of day breaks, your journey on the true path begins. You have to become stronger, Kenshin. For your family, and for yourself.”
With that absolute decree, Brados turned and walked out of the room.
Horuto and Asami exchanged a brief, complex glance with Kenshin before turning and following the Master out into the corridor.
Kenshin finally gave up.
The adrenaline left his body, and his knees buckled.
He collapsed onto the cold marble floor.
Asuka, Ren, and Akari immediately rushed to his side.
Asuka dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms protectively around her son’s scarred shoulders.
Kenshin knew this was his life now.
Whether he accepted it or not, the apocalypse was coming for him.
“M-Mother…” Kenshin rasped, resting his head against her chest.
“What is it, my son?” Asuka asked softly, her fingers stroking his blackish hair.
“If I fight…” Kenshin whispered, his dark-green eyes staring blankly at the floor.
“And if I disappear again… or if I die… will you cry?”
Tears flowed freely down Asuka’s face.
She rested her jaw gently on the top of his head.
She leaned down and pressed a long, tender kiss to his hair.
When she spoke, her voice was strict, strong, and undeniably proud, despite the deep, agonizing tremble in her chest.
“No. I will not cry,” Asuka vowed.
“Because I will know in that moment, that my son died while fighting. Not while fearing, and not while hiding.”
Kenshin closed his eyes.
The words ignited a small, fierce spark in his fractured soul.
“Then I promise you, Mother,” Kenshin declared, his voice hardening into absolute resolve.
“I will never die while hiding or fearing anyone.”
Asuka smiled through her tears, holding him tighter.
“That is my brave son. Keep it like that.”