Jin would never be his father... He wasn’t one who looked at his surviving son and saw not grief but utility. Who calculated the political implications of murder before considering the human cost. Who’d already moved on from Jean’s death because dwelling on it didn’t increase the family’s power or position.
Jin rembered Jean’s laugh, loud and confident. Jean teaching him to fight, patient even when Jin fumbled. Jean defending him from their father’s worst criticism, taking bla for mistakes that weren’t his. Jean, who’d been arrogant and entitled and everything a noble heir should be, but who’d also been his brother... And maybe even a better ’father’ than his useless, absent true one.
And Jin was going to get justice.
The tiger inside him growled, sensing his resolve.
Or maybe Jin was growling and the tiger was just agreeing.
The line had blurred, smudged by the pills and rage and obsession until Jin couldn’t tell which thoughts were human and which were predatory instinct.
It didn’t matter anymore.
They both wanted the sa thing.
Ren Patinder’s death.
And today, in these tunnels where accidents happened and bodies could be blad on beasts or bad luck or the chaos of competition...
Today, Jin would finally get what he’d been denied for 4 years.
Justice.
Revenge.
Peace.
The word echoed in his mind like a prayer. Like salvation from...
Every ti his father looked at him and Jin could see the thought written clear as text: You’re not Jean. You’ll never be Jean. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?
Jin rembered the nights when Jean returned from missions, bringing stories of battle and glory. Jean striding through the mansion doors with that confident swagger, dirt still on his uniform, blood sotis, never his own, staining the edges of his sleeves. The younger servants scattering to prepare his bath, the older ones nodding with respect. Their father actually smiling, rare and precious as gold, as Jean recounted victories.
And Jin, always Jin, hovering at the edges. Listening... Desperately trying to morize every word because Jean made ti seem to slow down, made the world feel bigger and more exciting just by existing in it.
He rembered the promise.
"When I lead House Strahlfang, you’ll be at my side as my right hand. Together we’ll make our family great."
The words had been said casually, like stating obvious fact rather than making a vow. Jean sprawled on the practice field grass after a sparring session, sweat cooling on both their faces, the sky that particular shade of purple-orange that ca right before sunset.
"You really an that?" Jin had asked, trying to keep the desperate hope out of his voice.
"Of course." Jean had turned his head, grinning with the certainty of soone who’d never truly failed at anything that mattered. "Who else would I trust to watch my back? Father? He’d stab himself if it advanced the house position. The cousins? They’d sell their own mothers for a promotion. But you... You’re loyal. That’s worth more than raw talent."
Those words had beco Jin’s anchor. His purpose. The promise of a future where he’d matter, where his existence would an sothing beyond being "the spare heir".
All those promises.
All those dreams.
Ended by a peasant with mushrooms in his hair.
No.
The denial was automatic, visceral, the sa as it had been every day for 4 years.
It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t have happened that way. Jean was too skilled, too careful, too alive to be killed by so nobody from nowhere with a beast so pathetic the academy had debated even allowing it.
But reality didn’t care about Jin’s denial.
Jean was dead.
And Ren Patinder had killed him.
Jin had searched for alternatives. Had investigated in secret, talking to the n who’d served under Jean, the ones who actually knew him and respected him beyond his position as heir.
Most declined politely.
Too risky...
Too politically complicated. They had families to think about, positions to protect.
But so...
So had looked at Jin with eyes that understood exactly what he was really asking.
And they’d said yes.
The veteran who Jean had saved during a horde attack. A grizzled man with scars across half his face and a limp that never quite healed right.
"I owe him my life," he’d said simply, no hesitation. "If you need help avenging the boy, count in."
The scout who’d ntored Jean personally. A woman in her forties with the lean, weathered look of soone who’d spent more ti in wilderness than civilization.
"He was like a son to ." Her voice had cracked slightly. "More family than my own blood ever was. Tell what you need."
Six others. Each with their own story, their debt, their reason for risking everything for the mory of Jean Strahlfang.
Or who were simply devoted idiots loyal to Jin and House Strahlfang, too caught up in house pride to question whether what they were doing was justice or just murder dressed in noble language.
Jin preferred not to examine that distinction too closely...
The plan had taken months of careful preparation.
Being in different academies had made coordinating anything a logistical nightmare. ssages sent through interdiaries. etings held only on vacations and in neutral territory where their respective academies’ surveillance wouldn’t catch them.
Of the five groups pursuing Ren here, only three were actually part of his plan.
The others were just opportunists, nobles’ children who’d heard about rewards for sabotaging certain teams and decided to try their luck. But ultimately unreliable.
His three groups weren’t particularly skilled either. Not even the best in their respective classes. Just majority Strahlfang students who understood house loyalty and wouldn’t ask uncomfortable questions about thods or legality.
One of his groups, the "Pursuing Group B" he’d managed to recruit, had been so clumsy they’d gotten stuck in the underground tunnels, they had to help the tutor get them out...
But it didn’t matter now.
The stars had aligned.
First: Getting a Strahlfang assigned as Ren’s group watcher to feed them information.
The opportunistic nobles’ connections had been useful for that at least. A few bribes in the right places, a few suggestions about "ensuring fair observation", and suddenly a Strahalfang had been selected for the assignnt.
Perfect positioning. Perfect information flow.
Second: Waiting for the perfect mont.
An exam where Ren would be outside the academy, away from Selphira’s omnipresent protection, in dangerous territory where accidents were common and expected. Where a student’s death could be blad on beasts or bad luck or the inherent risks of gathering dangerous resources.
This fifth-year exam and Ren coming to Yino was ideal. The weaver forests provided perfect cover.
Third: The rewards.
The nobles who hated Ren... and there were many, accumulated over years of him outshining their children and exposing their cultivation thods as inferior, had been surprisingly generous with their sabotage offers.
Enormous sums...
Promises of future refuge and protection. Political favors worth fortunes.
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