It was almost laughable for Barak to say those words without any shame.
Especially to him.
A person who had never known the warmth of a family since the moment he was born.
Nero had been rejected by everyone.
Shunned.
Forsaken.
The only person who had ever truly loved him, the only person who had given him warmth in that cold world—his mother—was gone.
After that day, everything changed.
The persecution only became worse.
From a young age, he endured everything inside a hostile household that called itself a clan.
While other children of the Raizen Clan wore beautiful clothes, played freely, trained in the family's prestigious grounds, and learned their inherited breathing technique under the guidance of others...
Nero had nothing.
No support.
No guidance.
No one who cared whether he succeeded or failed.
He had to learn how to survive on his own from an early age.
He worked because no one else would provide for him.
He struggled because no one would extend a hand.
