Seth's eyes fluttered open, his vision adjusting to the blinding white ceiling above him. A dull ache pulsed through his body as he tried to sit up, but his muscles screamed in protest. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move. As he scanned his surroundings, he realized he was in a hospital room—white walls, the faint smell of antiseptic, and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor beside him.
Confusion clouded his mind. The last thing he remembered was the battlefield, the chaos, the helplessness he felt when he saw that boy—losing his arm. His fists clenched at the memory. He blinked, staring at his hands, and slowly, the realization hit him.
He had failed.
Not just as a hero, but as the so-called number one.
Anger boiled inside him, but it wasn't directed at the monsters, nor at Lilith. It was at himself. He was too slow. Too weak. The title he carried felt hollow now.
The door swung open, and footsteps echoed in the quiet room. A familiar voice broke the silence.
Dante (grinning):
Yo, you finally woke up, dude.
Seth turned his head, eyes landing on Dante, who leaned casually against the doorframe, his usual grin plastered across his face.
Seth didn't return the smile. His voice came out hoarse.
Seth (serious):
How long was I out?
Dante tilted his head, thinking.
Dante (shrugging):
Hmm… about three days.
Three days. His stomach twisted at the thought. He had been unconscious while others were probably suffering. He looked down at his hands again, the guilt weighing heavier on him.
His voice dropped lower.
Seth (quietly):
How many lives were lost that day?
Dante's grin softened, his expression shifting into something more serious. He met Seth's gaze and spoke calmly.
Dante (calmly):
Zero.
Seth's breath hitched. His eyes widened. He sat up straighter, ignoring the pain in his body.
Seth (shocked):
W-what?
Dante repeated, still smiling.
Dante (reassuring):
I said zero. Not a single life was lost.
That didn't make sense. Seth remembered the blood, the screams, the sheer destruction. There was no way…
Seth (whispering, still in disbelief):
But how…?
Then, another memory surfaced, and his stomach twisted again.
Seth (hesitant, voice shaking slightly):
The kid… the one who… lost his arm. What happened to him?
Dante blinked before letting out a small laugh.
Dante (chuckling):
Huh? Ohhh, you mean the kid? Just come with me.
Seth frowned at the vague response but forced himself out of bed. His body protested every movement, but he pushed through it, following Dante out of the hospital room.
As they stepped outside, Seth felt his chest tighten.
The battlefield was still in ruins. The ground was scarred with deep craters, buildings reduced to rubble. The air carried the lingering scent of burnt wood and dust. He lowered his gaze, guilt creeping in.
But then… something felt off.
There was no sorrow in the air. No anger, no fear.
Instead, the streets were filled with laughter.
People moved around, talking, smiling, some even playing with children. It was as if the destruction didn't exist. His brows furrowed in confusion.
Dante kept walking, and Seth followed, still trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then, his eyes landed on something that nearly made his heart stop.
That boy.
The same one who had lost his arm.
Running.
With both arms.
Seth's breathing became uneven. His mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing. He grabbed Dante's shoulder, forcing him to stop.
Seth (demanding, frantic):
How?! I saw him lose it! There's no way—
Dante just chuckled, his gaze shifting toward a figure in the distance.
Dante (calmly):
You know, I realized something, Seth.
Seth followed his gaze, and the moment his eyes landed on the man standing there, his breath caught in his throat.
Renjiro.
He stood amidst the people, effortlessly moving between them. He handed food to the hungry, spoke softly to the injured, and played with the children who clung to him with wide smiles. But more than anything, there was a presence about him—an overwhelming sense of calm.
Dante (serious):
We're weak, Seth.
Seth clenched his fists.
Seth (quietly, agreeing):
Yeah. I know.
A new voice joined the conversation.
Yor (limping slightly, but eyes burning with resolve):
We all are.
Seth turned to see Yor approaching, her body still recovering, bandages covering her arms.
Lira stood beside her, arms crossed, frustration clear in her expression.
Lira (firmly):
I never want to feel that helpless again.
Mira, standing next to them, nodded silently.
Seth looked at them all, his heart pounding in his chest. They had fought with everything they had, and yet, they felt weak too.
Seth (hesitant):
But you two were the most injured… how are you even—
Dante smirked.
Dante (grinning):
Him.
Seth turned back to Renjiro.
Dante (softly):
He healed us. Not just us—everyone. He even searched the entire battlefield to make sure no one was left behind.
Seth swallowed hard. The memories flashed through his mind.
The way Renjiro moved in battle. His strength. His kindness. The sheer hope he carried.
He had been everything they couldn't be.
Without another thought, Seth took a step forward. Then another. And then, he did something no one expected.
He bowed.
Seth (voice firm, unwavering):
Please, train us.
Renjiro blinked, visibly taken aback.
Renjiro (confused):
Huh?
The others followed Seth's lead, bowing as well.
Yor (determined):
Please, Renjiro!
Lira (clenching her fists):
No—Sir White Snow Swordsman. Please help us get stronger.
Renjiro stared at them all. Seth could see the slight surprise in his expression. But beneath that, there was something else.
In their voices, Renjiro heard something familiar.
The same determination he once had—when Zukio helped him.
Seth's hands trembled slightly, but his voice didn't waver.
Seth (softly, but with conviction):
*I don't ever want to feel that weak again. So please… help us. *
Silence stretched between them.
Then, slowly, Renjiro smiled.
Renjiro (smirking):
Tomorrow. Meet me at the top of that mountain.
The group turned their eyes to the peak. It was massive, disappearing into the clouds above.
Renjiro (grinning slightly):
That's where your training begins.
Seth, Dante, Mira, Lira, and Yor all stared at him. Then, one by one, their eyes burned with resolve.
Seth took a step forward and extended his hand.
Renjiro grasped it firmly.
Seth (serious):
Okay.
And with that, their journey to true strength began.