Kenshin dragged himself from the heavy, suffocating depths of unconsciousness.
His dark-green eyes fluttered open, immediately assaulted by the soft, warm light filtering through a nearby window.
He tensed, his body bracing for the inevitable, agonizing bite of a bone needle or the crushing weight of the iron chair.
But there was no iron.
There were no chains.
He was lying on a plush, incredibly soft bed.
The sensation was so profoundly alien that it sent a jolt of terror down his spine.
He looked down at himself.
His torso and arms were meticulously wrapped in clean, white bandages, and he was dressed in a loose, comfortable linen tunic and soft trousers.
Where am I?
Kenshin thought, his racing heart hammering against his ribs.
Is this a new dungeon?
A new experiment?
He scrambled out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the smooth wooden floor of a spacious, finely decorated room in the upper towers of the stronghold.
He did not know how long he had been asleep, but he knew one thing: he had to escape before the masked torturer returned.
Kenshin rushed toward the heavy oak door, but before his hand could even brush the iron handle, a calm voice broke the silence.
“There is no use in leaving.”
Kenshin spun around, his muscles coiling like a struck spring.
Standing near the corner of the room, arms crossed lightly over his chest, was Horuto.
The young man’s olive-green eyes watched Kenshin with a quiet, unreadable calmness.
“What do you want from me?” Kenshin growled, his voice raspy and hostile.
“Leave me alone.”
“I am afraid that cannot happen,” Horuto replied smoothly.
“You are not normal.”
“I will kill you if you come in my way,” Kenshin warned, baring his teeth.
“Get away from the door.”
Horuto let out a long, quiet sigh.
“Listen, if Asami were here, she would probably just snap your neck again. But I am not her. Anyway, what is your name?”
Kenshin hesitated.
The instinct to lie warred with the primal urge to assert the identity he had forged in the dark.
“It’s Rit—” Kenshin stopped himself, his jaw tightening.
“Kenshin.”
“Kenshin,” Horuto repeated, tasting the word.
“A strong name. Anyway, you are in our sanctuary. You are safe and secured. Do not worry, we will not hurt you.”
“I do not want to be imprisoned again,” Kenshin whispered, the sheer vulnerability of a traumatized boy slipping through his hardened, lethal exterior.
“Please… just let me go.”
Horuto’s expression softened slightly, his piercing green gaze taking in the sheer volume of bandages wrapped around Kenshin’s body.
He knew the horrors required to leave a boy in such a state.
“Listen,” Horuto said, his voice lowering to a gentle, reassuring tone.
“We are not going to hurt you. Nor is anyone else going to hurt you. Not on my watch.”
Horuto walked slowly toward the door, making sure to keep his hands visible and non-threatening.
He pulled the door open and stepped out into the corridor, leaving the path clear.
“I am going to open it. Do not run,” Horuto said.
“I promise no one will do bad things to you. Come now.”
Kenshin hesitated for a long, agonizing heartbeat.
But the promise of an open door was too tempting.
He stepped out of the room, cautiously following Horuto into the grand corridor of the inner sanctum.
As they walked, Kenshin glanced around.
The corridors were lined with guards.
They were tall, imposing figures wearing long, dark cloaks that obscured their armor.
They held heavy swords, jagged spears, deadly crossbows, and glowing magical staffs.
Their faces were not hidden, but that did not matter.
To Kenshin’s fractured mind, the dark cloaks and the cruel, sharp weapons instantly morphed.
The polished stone hallway vanished, replaced by the damp, blood-soaked walls of the subterranean vault.
The guards twisted into monstrous copies of Null and Zenjiro, holding flaying knives, bone-drills, and iron tongs.
The scent of fresh air was overwhelmed by the phantom stench of rotting flesh and acidic alchemy.
A visceral, absolute panic seized Kenshin’s brain.
He stumbled backward, his breath catching in his throat.
Before Horuto could even turn around, Kenshin spun on his heel, bolted back into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut.
Horuto blinked in surprise.
He rushed back, pushing the door open.
“Kenshin, wait—”
The room was empty.
The heavy wooden shutters of the large window were thrown wide open.
The curtains billowed in the wind.
“Damn it,” Horuto muttered, running to the ledge.
They were in the third tier of the keep, dozens of leagues above the courtyard.
He looked down and saw Kenshin effortlessly hitting the stone pavement below, his Gladeon durability absorbing a fall that would have shattered a mortal’s legs.
Horuto turned back to the corridor, his voice echoing with absolute urgency.
“Go search for him! He jumped out of the window. Do not let him leave the sanctuary! And inform Takashi and Asami, now!”
-Break-
Kenshin hit the cobblestone courtyard at a dead sprint.
His dark-green eyes were wide, manic, and completely dilated.
He saw the dark-cloaked guards rushing toward him from the stronghold gates. Find the original chapter at g.com.
They were shouting orders, raising their hands to stop him, but to Kenshin, they were the torturers coming to strap him back into the iron chair.
His mind finally, violently snapped.
Kenshin skidded to a halt in the center of the courtyard, completely surrounded by dozens of heavily armed guards.
Horuto, having leaped from a lower balcony, landed nearby alongside Asami, whose midnight-blue hair whipped around her striking face.
Kenshin looked up at the sky, his chest heaving.
The terrified boy vanished, replaced entirely by the immortal beast forged in Zenjiro’s dungeon.
“I am not a… weakling!” Kenshin roared, a wave of feral, terrifying aura exploding from his body.
“I will take my revenge!”
With a sudden surge of unnatural power, Kenshin leaped high into the air.
He descended upon the nearest guard, planting both of his bare feet squarely onto the man’s armored shoulders.
Before the guard could even raise his spear, Kenshin clamped both hands onto the sides of the man’s helmet.
With a sickening, brutal twist and a violent upward pull, Kenshin tore the guard’s head completely off his shoulders.
A geyser of crimson blood erupted into the air.
Kenshin swung his arms, hurling the severed head at the approaching reinforcements before leaping onto the next victim.
“Careful!” Horuto yelled, his eyes widening in pure horror.
Moving with flash-step speed, Kenshin became a blur of absolute slaughter.
He tore through the guards, snapping limbs, crushing chests, and shedding blood with the mindless, instinctual brutality of a cornered predator.
“Hula!” Horuto shouted.
Instantly, two incredibly thick, heavy jade swords materialized in Horuto’s hands.
The ring pommels of the blades were attached to glowing spectral chains that wrapped around Horuto’s body, the metal physically anchoring directly into the flesh of his own back.
Channeling his Kratognus power, Horuto hurled one of the massive jade swords like a spinning meteor directly at Kenshin.
Kenshin twisted mid-air, barely dodging the heavy blade.
The jagged edge grazed his side, slicing a deep gash through his linen tunic and skin.
But before the blood could even hit the cobblestones, the wound seared shut in a hiss of steam, healing perfectly.
Horuto froze, completely shocked.
“Asami!” Horuto yelled, retracting his chain.
“We cannot kill him—”
But Asami did not hear him.
Her icy blue eyes were narrowed in absolute fury at the sight of the slaughtered guards.
She murmured an incantation, and a colossal, double-bladed Guandao materialized in her grip.
The jagged, curved fantasy blades on both ends crackled with a brilliant, electric-blue and purple energy aura.
Tapping into her Plandacorus power, Asami vanished into a blur of violet hyper-speed.
She appeared directly in front of Kenshin.
Utilizing both ends of her terrifying weapon, she executed the Plandacorus Cross-Sever.
With a blindingly fast, dual-sweeping motion, she slashed Kenshin’s chest in a massive, brutal ‘X’ mark.
The purple lightning surged into his nervous system.
Blood flooded from Kenshin’s chest, the crackling energy burning the wound and momentarily short-circuiting his rapid regeneration.
Kenshin screamed, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed heavily onto the blood-soaked cobblestones.
Asami stood over him, her chest heaving slightly.
She spun the Guandao gracefully, resting the long shaft against her shoulder.
“It is over. What a mess.”
“He was not a bad boy!” Horuto yelled angrily, rushing forward.
“He was just scared!”
“Scared?” Asami snapped back, pointing to the decapitated bodies littering the courtyard.
“He killed our guards! Do you see how much blood he shed? What were you expecting me to do? Pull him into my arms and tell him everything is alright?!”
“Idiot!” Horuto roared.
“The Master said to keep him safe, not to kill him!”
Before the argument could escalate, a new voice cut through the tension.
“What is going on here?”
It was Takashi.
The broad, muscular young man walked into the courtyard, his light green eyes surveying the carnage.
“She killed the boy the Master told us to keep safe,” Horuto said, glaring at Asami.
Takashi crossed his arms.
“I see. Why, Asami?”
“He was slaughtering our men,” Asami replied coldly.
“Can you not see how many guards he took down?”
Takashi remained quiet, analyzing the fallen boy.
Suddenly, a surviving guard pointed a trembling finger at Kenshin’s motionless body.
“He is regenerating! He is regenerating!”
Asami’s icy blue eyes widened in disbelief.
She watched as the massive, crackling ‘X’ mark across Kenshin’s chest slowly began to knit itself back together.
The steaming blood reversed its flow, the torn muscle fibers intertwining until unblemished, pale skin replaced the fatal wound.
“How…?” Asami whispered.
Kenshin slowly pushed himself up off the cobblestones.
His breathing was heavy, his dark-green eyes burning with absolute betrayal as he looked directly at Horuto.
“You said you would not hurt me…” Kenshin rasped, his voice dripping with venom.
“You betrayed me.”
“No, no, we did not!” Horuto pleaded, taking a cautious step forward.
“You were the one killing these guards!”
“Guards?!” Kenshin spat, pointing to the dark-cloaked bodies.
“They are all monsters! They tortured me! They kept me in that bloodied horror dungeon!”
Takashi moved forward, stepping smoothly between Horuto and the feral teenager.
“Listen, boy,” Takashi said, his tone authoritative yet remarkably calm.
“Can you at least calm down?”
Takashi raised his hand, gesturing firmly for the remaining guards to back away. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
The surviving soldiers hesitated before slowly retreating from Kenshin’s immediate vicinity.
Seeing the dark cloaks retreat, Kenshin’s manic breathing began to slow.
The feral light in his eyes dimmed slightly, though his muscles remained completely tensed and guarded.
“Listen,” Horuto tried again, his voice soft.
“No one here is going to hurt you, alright? We—”
“You have awakened… right?”
The deep, resonant voice echoed across the courtyard, instantly silencing everyone.
Master Brados walked out from the inner sanctum.
His imposing figure commanded absolute respect, his long grey-white beard catching the afternoon light.
Brados did not look at Kenshin immediately.
He turned his dark, intense eyes to Takashi.
“Takashi. Order all the guards in this sanctuary to change their cloaks. They are to wear brown or blue from now on. No more black.”
Takashi nodded respectfully.
“Yes, Master.” He turned and walked away to carry out the order.
Brados shifted his gaze to Horuto.
“What is his name, Horuto?”
“It is Kenshin, Master,” Horuto answered quickly.
Brados finally turned his attention to the blood-soaked, heavily scarred teenager standing in the center of the courtyard.
“Kenshin. Do you have anywhere to go?”
Kenshin did not say anything.
He simply glared at the bald elder.
“Do you know anyone?” Brados pressed gently.
Kenshin remained silent, his jaw tightly clenched.
Brados did not speak again.
Instead, he began to walk forward, closing the distance between himself and the feral boy.
Kenshin tensed, his hands curling into fists.
“Master, he is dangerous,” Asami warned, gripping her Guandao tightly.
Brados did not stop.
He walked right up to Kenshin, entirely unbothered by the boy’s hostile, murderous aura.
Slowly, deliberately, Brados reached out and placed a large, warm hand directly onto Kenshin’s scarred shoulder.
“You are going to live here from now on,” Brados stated, his voice a deep, comforting rumble.
“With us. Like family.”
Kenshin froze.
The word struck him harder than any physical blow.
“What is… Family?”
“Master, he is highly dangerous,” Asami protested again, her voice rising in frustration.
“We cannot let a murderer live here among us.”
Brados remained silent for a long moment.
He did not turn to look at Asami when he finally spoke.
“Asami… do not forget that you came here exactly like this, as well.”
The words hit Asami like a physical strike.
Her icy blue eyes widened, a flash of deep, buried pain crossing her beautiful features.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the courtyard, her midnight-blue hair trailing behind her in pure anger.
Horuto took a step to chase after her, but Brados raised his hand.
“Do not worry,” Brados said softly.
“She will return when she is ready. For now…”
Brados leaned down slightly, bringing himself closer to Kenshin’s eye level.
The elder’s dark eyes were filled with an unexpected, overwhelming warmth.
“Kenshin… A good name,” Brados whispered.
“You are my son from now on.”
Kenshin’s eyes widened in absolute shock.
A surge of panicked adrenaline flooded his veins.
He violently slapped Brados’s hand away from his shoulder, taking a frantic step back.
“You said what?!” Kenshin yelled, his voice cracking with terror.
“You are going to put me in a weird room to torture me too!”
Brados’s eyes widened slightly in sorrow.
The elder did not retaliate.
Instead, moving with a surprising, gentle swiftness, Brados stepped forward and pulled Kenshin directly into a firm, encompassing embrace.
It was a gesture of pure comfort.
“Kenshin,” Brados murmured, holding the rigid, trembling boy against his broad chest.
“Not all fathers are like the one you got. I promise you… I will not be the father you see in your nightmares.”
Kenshin stiffened instantly, his scarred arms hovering awkwardly in the air.
His entire life had taught him that contact meant pain.
Touch meant tearing flesh and breaking bone.
But Brados was warm.
The elder smelled of aged parchment and fresh rain, not blood and acidic alchemy.
Slowly, ever so slightly, Kenshin’s rigid muscles began to relax.
He slumped a fraction of an inch into the Master’s embrace, an overwhelming, hollow exhaustion finally catching up to him.
“I do not know,” Kenshin whispered into Brados’s shoulder, his voice thick with unshed tears.
“You have those weird, black-cloak-wearing men. They are going to torture me.”
“They will never come near you,” Brados promised, his voice absolute.
“You have my word. Come, let us go inside first.”
Brados pulled back slightly, placing a gentle hand on Kenshin’s back, guiding him away from the bloodstained courtyard and toward the warm, sunlit halls of the inner sanctum.
“This is your home now, Kenshin.”
Is Brados really Merciful as He seems?