The sun dipped below the high stone walls of the sanctuary, casting long, cooling shadows across the courtyards.
Inside the small, shaded mess hall, Kenshin sat alone at the heavy wooden table.
The massive pile of roasted meats and vegetables Horuto had left for him was completely gone, leaving only clean bone and empty clay jugs of water.
For the first time in eleven years, Kenshin’s stomach was comfortably full.
The dark, hollow ache of starvation that had plagued him in the dungeon was finally silenced.
Yet, as the adrenaline of his first true physical conditioning faded, a new kind of agony set in.
Every single muscle fiber in his body screamed in protest.
When Null had drilled into his bones, the pain was sharp, toxic, and instantaneous, healed seconds later by the unnatural alchemy in his veins.
But this was different.
This was a deep, throbbing exhaustion.
His thighs felt like solid lead, his core burned with every breath, and his arms trembled violently just from resting on the table.
Horuto had broken him down, not with blades, but with the sheer, crushing weight of physical exertion.
Kenshin slowly pushed himself up from the wooden bench.
His legs wobbled, nearly giving out, but he forced himself to stand.
He limped out of the mess hall, leaning his shoulder heavily against the cool stone walls of the corridor as he made his way back to his chambers in the upper towers.
When he finally pushed open his heavy oak door, he froze.
The room was bathed in the warm, flickering light of several oil lanterns.
Sitting on the edge of his plush bed, holding a basin of warm water and a stack of clean linen cloths, was Asuka.
His mother looked up, her pure dark-green eyes instantly softening with a mixture of immense love and deep sorrow.
“Ritsu,” Asuka murmured, her sweet voice carrying across the quiet room.
“You look exhausted, my brave boy.”
Standing near the tall bronze mirror was Ren, her arms crossed protectively.
Akari, his fourteen-year-old sister, was sitting on a padded chair in the corner, her pure blackish eyes wide with concern as she watched him limp into the room.
“Mother?” Kenshin rasped, leaning against the doorframe.
“What are you doing here? Master Brados said you returned to the estate.”
“We did,” Ren answered, stepping forward to help support his weight.
Her grip on his arm was firm and commanding, the strict elder sister taking charge.
“But we are not going to leave you alone in this sanctuary every night. Father… Zenjiro… is remaining at the estate to keep up appearances for King Bellod’s spies. But Mother insisted we come back here to tend to you.”
Kenshin allowed Ren to guide him toward the bed.
He sat heavily on the mattress, wincing as his sore abdominal muscles pulled tight.
“Take off your tunic, my son,” Asuka instructed gently, dipping a white linen cloth into the warm water.
Kenshin hesitated.
In the dungeon, removing his clothes meant exposing his flesh to the flaying knife.
It meant vulnerability.
But as he looked into Asuka’s warm, tear-filled eyes, the icy dread in his chest melted.
With trembling fingers, he pulled the dark linen tunic over his head and let it drop to the floor.
Kenshin’s torso was a terrifying canvas of survival.
Thick, jagged pale scars crisscrossed over his chest and shoulders.
Circular, burned indentations marked where the bone-drills had pierced him, and deep, unnatural discoloration stained the veins of his forearms where Null’s alchemy had been forcefully pumped into his bloodstream.
Asuka did not look away.
She did not gasp, though her lower lip trembled violently.
She moved closer, wringing out the warm, damp cloth.
With absolute, motherly tenderness, she began to wash the sweat and dirt from his heavily scarred back.
The touch of the warm cloth sent a shiver down Kenshin’s spine.
It was so incredibly gentle.
“I am sorry,” Asuka whispered, a single tear falling from her cheek to splash against his scarred shoulder.
“I am so deeply sorry that my hands were not the ones protecting you all these years.”
“You could not have stopped him, Mother,” Kenshin replied, his voice low and raspy.
He stared down at his own calloused hands.
“Zenjiro is an apex entity. A Strong Holder. If you had tried to fight him, he would have brushed you aside. Or worse, King Bellod would have killed you.”
“That does not excuse the fact that you suffered alone in the dark,” Ren said fiercely.
She knelt in front of him, her dark-green eyes blazing with a protective fury.
“While you were chained to that iron chair, I was learning noble etiquette. Akari was playing in the sunlit gardens. We lived in luxury while you were butchered.”
“Ren,” Asuka cautioned softly, continuing to wash her son’s back.
“Do not burden yourself with guilt. The Master has explained the truth to us. It was a cruel necessity.”
“It does not make it right!” Ren argued, her voice cracking slightly.
She looked up at Kenshin, her expression shifting from strict authority to profound sorrow.
“You are my little brother. I was supposed to protect you.”
Kenshin looked at Ren.
He remembered how she used to scold him for running in the halls, how she would boss him around to keep him safe from harm.
He slowly reached out, placing his large, heavily scarred hand over Ren’s delicate, fair fingers.
“I am alive, Ren,” Kenshin said, his voice steadying.
“The boy who cried in the dark is gone. I am a warrior now. You do not need to protect me anymore.”
Ren stared at his hand, tracing the thick, pale scars that ran across his knuckles.
A watery, devastated smile touched her lips.
“You grew up too fast, Ritsu.”
“My name is Kenshin now,” he corrected gently.
Ren nodded slowly, accepting the new identity he had forged in the fires of his torment.
From the corner of the room, Akari finally spoke.
“Does it… does it still hurt, big brother?”
Kenshin turned his head to look at his youngest sister.
She was so small, her flat chest heaving with nervous breaths.
She was completely untainted by the horrors of the realms, safely shielded by their father’s terrifying gamble.
“No, Akari,” Kenshin lied smoothly, offering her a faint, reassuring smile.
“It does not hurt anymore.”
Asuka finished wiping away the sweat and dirt.
She carefully dried his skin with a soft towel, her hands lingering on his broad, muscular shoulders.
“Master Brados told us about your training,” Asuka murmured, walking around the bed to sit beside him.
“He said Horuto is going to break your body down to build it back stronger. To prepare you for the war against King Bellod.”
“He already started,” Kenshin groaned, rubbing his sore thighs.
“He made me do hundreds of physical conditioning drills. I feel like I have been trampled by a carriage.”
Asuka smiled through her tears, reaching up to gently comb her fingers through his messy, blackish hair.
“You must endure it, Kenshin. The alchemy in your veins keeps you from dying, but raw magic is wild and unpredictable. If your physical vessel is not strong enough to contain it, the power will consume you from the inside out.”
“I know,” Kenshin nodded, the image of the Shadow sitting on the skull throne flashing briefly in his mind.
If I am weak, he will take over.
“Tomorrow, the weapons training will begin,” Ren announced, standing up and crossing her arms with her usual bossy elegance.
“I expect you to pay absolute attention to Horuto. He is the Master’s finest student. Do not let your pride get in the way of learning how to properly parry a blade.”
Kenshin let out a short, genuine laugh.
It felt strange in his throat, a sound he had not made in over a decade.
“Yes, elder sister. I will listen.”
“Good,” Ren huffed, though her eyes were warm.
Asuka leaned over and kissed Kenshin on the cheek.
Her lips were soft, the scent of lilac washing over him, silencing the lingering ghosts of the dungeon completely.
“Rest now, my son,” Asuka whispered.
“We will be in the guest chambers down the hall if you need us. You are not alone anymore.”
Kenshin watched as his mother and sisters quietly left the room, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind them.
He lay back on the plush mattress, staring up at the stone ceiling.
His muscles ached terribly, and the looming threat of the Strong Holders hung over the Endlerworld like a dark storm cloud.
But as he closed his dark-green eyes, for the first time in his life, Kenshin did not feel the icy grip of terror.
He felt a warm, burning resolve.
He had a family to protect.
And tomorrow, he was going to learn how to kill for them.
Deeply apologize for the delay, the next chapter will appear in one hour and twenty minutes.