Chapter 282: Rin’s POV
Back in Serenya.
A boy walked through the ruined streets. "Busy" wasn’t the right word... no rchants calling out, no cheerful noise. The city was busy in the rawest sense: people dragging stone, rebuilding shattered walls, hamring against silence.
Rin drifted through it all, a hollow ache twisting in his chest. He didn’t even know if he felt happy or sad.... only empty. Relief sat in him like a flicker of light: his aunt had been saved, she’d recover soon. But beyond that relief, turmoil chewed at him.
Because of her.
He pushed open the infirmary doors and headed straight to Laura’s ward. Her status as the young mistress of Serenya gave her a better room than most.... well-built, polished but Rin didn’t care for any of that. He wanted one thing only.
He prayed.
Prayed the scene would finally be different.
But it wasn’t.
It was the sa. Always the sa. His sister lay in bed, her face pale but peaceful, chest rising and falling in that cruel rhythm like she was only asleep, like she might wake if he just waited long enough.
Rin sat beside her, fists tight. He closed his eyes, forcing himself not to break. Between the two of them, he was the boy, so he carried the burden of strength. The mask of calm. The role of protector. But inside? He bled every ti he saw her motionless like this. And the healers... they gave no hope. Could be months. Could be years.
"Just wake up already," Rin whispered.
Minutes passed. His frustration grew. Why was he so weak? If only he’d awakened. If only he had power, real power, then none of this would’ve happened. He could’ve protected her. He could’ve protected Serenya. But he was nothing. Just a powerless kid.
Just thirteen.
But Rin wasn’t thinking like a child. He couldn’t. Not after everything. All he thought about was how weak he was, and how badly he needed to grow stronger.
Leaving the infirmary, he walked with heavy steps until he reached the burial grounds. Rows of stone stretched before him, each one carrying a na carved into it with grief. He stopped at one in particular.
Ron Maxswon.
His brother.
"Brother Ron..." Rin murmured, staring at the na. "I miss you."
If only he’d known. If only he’d had more ti. He would’ve helped Ron finish that ga he always wanted to complete. Would’ve done the things Ron had asked of him. So many promises left undone, lost forever.
Ron was gone. Dead. And the dead never ca back.
Tears blurred Rin’s vision, but he wiped them away, forcing his gaze into steel. His voice cracked with a vow:
"I swear... I’ll grow stronger. I’ll make sure this never happens again. I’ll protect everyone. I promise."
He turned to leave... then froze.
A sound. Low, muffled sobbing.
In the distance, another figure knelt before a tomb. Shoulders shaking, face buried in his hands. Rin didn’t need long to recognize him.
Chip. His best friend.
Crying for his brother. Another victim of the cursed invasion.
Too many dead. Too many graves. Too much loss.
Rin closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his jaw tightened, teeth grinding. He turned on his heel and left.
Too weak. He was still way too weak to make any difference.
Maybe... maybe he should train with Kira. That girl... sharp, fiery... she’d help him grow, even if only by a little. He’d take anything. Anything to push forward. But right now, he had sowhere else to go.
If he wanted strength, he needed more than just training. He needed a weapon. A real one.
Sure, only those who awakened could truly wield a power weapon, but Rin didn’t care. Awakening had already beco his number one priority, and the mont the city’s rebuilding was done, he would force it, one way or another. For now, he needed guidance. He needed Nathan.
He stepped into the forge and imdiately noticed how empty it felt. Cold. Silent. Of course... almost everyone was out rebuilding the city.
"Hey, young master Rin!"
Rin turned. An older man was walking toward him, face worn with age but carrying a gentle smile. Rin bowed slightly. Titles ant nothing here, respect did.
The man’s smile ward. "What brings you to the forge? Don’t tell the people need more tools. We’re nearly out as it is."
Rin shook his head. "I’m here to see Uncle Nathan."
At those words, the man’s smile faltered. His expression shifted, complicated, uneasy.
"What is it?" Rin pressed, concern creeping into his voice. "Did sothing happen? Is Uncle Nathan sick? Did he leave?"
The man quickly shook his head. "No. Nothing like that. It’s just..." He drew in a deep breath. "Master Nathan’s been locked in one of the special forging rooms. He hasn’t left in days. He’s... consud. Too focused. No one dares disturb him."
Rin blinked. "Days? You an he’s been forging nonstop for days?"
Forging wasn’t a ga. Rin didn’t know much about it, but he knew it demanded everything... body, mind, spirit. Exhaustion, heat, endless strain. How could Nathan survive like that? Wouldn’t it break him?
"Take to him," Rin said.
The man hesitated, as if ready to argue. But then he looked into Rin’s stubborn eyes and sighed. "Fine. But listen carefully, once we get there, don’t do anything to break his concentration. Understand?"
Rin nodded sharply.
They walked through winding passages until they reached a door of hardened green tal. The man swung it open, and at once the heat crashed into Rin like a wave. The sll of molten steel, lava, and smoke clawed at his lungs. The rhythmic clang of hamr on tal echoed like a war drum.
There bare-chested, body dripping sweat, eyes blazing with unshakable focus.... stood Nathan. Every strike of his hamr sent sparks flying, every swing reverberating with power and madness.
Rin froze for a heartbeat. Then sothing broke inside him, and he couldn’t hold back.
"Uncle!"
He rushed forward and threw his arms around Nathan’s waist in a tight embrace. His small fra barely fit against the blacksmith’s body, but he clung to him with everything he had.
The man who brought Rin in groaned and covered his face with a palm. He’d warned him not to interfere. He’d told him. But Rin hadn’t listened.
And yet...
The hamr didn’t stop.
Sparks still flew. Steel still rang. Nathan’s focus didn’t waver.... not even as Rin held onto him like he was the only anchor left in a shattered world.
Rin finally let go of Nathan and turned to face him.
What he saw made his chest tighten.
Nathan’s face wasn’t his usual brotherly smile. It wasn’t even neutral. It was grim.... dead serious as if the world itself was balanced on his hamr. Sweat poured down his body, sparks flew with every strike, and yet his eyes didn’t waver. He looked like a man possessed, like the thing he was forging was the only thing in existence.
And then Rin heard it.
Muttering. Low. Rough. Almost a growl.
At first Rin thought it was gibberish. Nonsense. For a second, he even feared Nathan had gone mad. But no.... when he focused harder, the words sharpened, each one carrying weight heavy enough to crush the air.
"I must go faster... I must go faster... create it on ti... no more ti to waste... this feeling must not co to pass... I must create it on ti... I must..."
Rin’s breath caught. They weren’t just whispers. They were vows. Chains.
Still... sothing was off.
Sothing was wrong.
"What feeling are you talking about?" Rin asked, his voice low, unsure if Nathan, locked in that trance, would even hear him.
The hamring never stopped. The words never ceased. But then, almost like a whisper dragged up from the abyss, Nathan answered:
"...A bad feeling. A very, very bad feeling."
Rin’s pulse spiked. "What do you an? What feeling?"
"The feeling... of soone who is dead. Or about to die."
Rin’s throat tightened, his chest rising and falling in panic. "Wait... what does that an? Who?! Who is dead... or about to die?!"
For a long mont, only the sound of hamr on tal filled the room. Sparks. Heat. The ringing of destiny. Then Nathan’s voice ca, grim, heavy, final.
"It’s the young master... The young master is going to die."
---
anwhile... back on the Cursed Island.
The lightning bolt Han unleashed never landed.
A shadow moved, silent and absolute. A figure stepped out of the darkness itself, raised a single hand, and caught it.
Caught it.
The crackling power vanished instantly.... crushed, erased, not even a trace of energy left behind. Gone as if it never existed.
Han froze. His breath stopped in his throat. His eyes locked on the dark emissary standing before him.
And then....
[SYSTEM ALERT!]
A notification flared into view, letters etched in deep, bloody red:
DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.
Not a quest. Not even the usual survival directive the system spat out whenever it believed Han was outmatched. No mission. No objective. Just pure warning.
DANGER.
But Han wasn’t trembling because of the system.
He was trembling because of him.
That thing. That emissary.
This wasn’t human. Not anymore. Whatever it was radiated dread so sharp, so suffocating, that for the first ti in his life... Han felt it.
Fear.
Deep, bone-crushing dread.
And the terrifying certainty that he was going to die.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...
AUTHOR’S NOTE
That’s the Chapter, everyone!
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– Ultra
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