Metsuen was lying unconscious in the grass.
Hours passed.
As night fell, a gentle breeze blew across his body.
He awoke with a start, still disturbed by his ancestor's final words, engraved in his memory.
***
—It seems my consciousness is fading… My time is up… Good luck, my child. I, Archevaldr Schattenkrieg, wish y—
***
So… the Archmage was a Schattenkrieg. That's why Luznid's descendants were able to reclaim power in the Empire without anyone questioning it: they shared the same family name.
Our bloodline must have been hunted in complete secrecy.
Grandfather told me to go to Gatsuen Academy. He even claimed to have founded it. And yet, it is said that "His Majesty Luznid" created it. He's also the one who supposedly defeated Gargaroth…
Archevaldr's name is never mentioned. Not even once.
When he called himself the Archmage, I thought he meant Luznid. That's the title the stories use for him.
So from the beginning… everything was just their manipulation.
And now I've learned I must avenge my ancestors… My mother… My family… They died by their hands.
I bear the weight of their deaths.
Will I truly be able to live up to their expectations? Do I really have the strength to shoulder such a burden?
A nervous laugh escaped me.
But… who cares?
Whatever happens, I'll do everything I can to put an end to their charade.
I will expose their lies for all to see.
***
Still lying in the grass, Metsuen suddenly felt a change within himself.
He felt lighter. Faster.
His body seemed purified from the inside. And it was true: the ritual had expelled every impurity from his system, allowing his body to channel the Original Ryoku.
It flowed through his veins like a current of pure energy, without the slightest resistance.
His Kai Core had formed.
But suddenly, a foul stench hit his nose.
He sniffed his own body, covered in black, sticky patches. The expelled impurities had clung to his skin.
Wasting no time, he ran to the forest lake, undressed, and washed himself.
He then smelled his clothes… The stench lingered.
Sighing, he set off toward the village.
He knew the forest by heart. He used to play there often. Alone, of course.
It was also where Heinrich would come find him to fight, knowing Metsuen would be there.
When he arrived in the village, he saw no lights in the streets. Naturally it was nighttime.
He sighed.
—I'll leave for Gatsuen… after I've dealt with Heinrich.
***
He headed to Anne's house. He knew Heinrich would be there—where else would he be if not at his mother's?
He stopped in front of a modest wooden house. He knew it well.
He leapt through a window he knew led directly to his "brother's" bedroom.
He slipped silently into the room.
A figure with black hair lay fast asleep on the bed.
Metsuen stepped closer, placed one hand over Heinrich's mouth, and the other around his throat.
Heinrich woke with a jolt.
—If you make a single move, or try to call for help, I'll crush your throat. Nod if you understand.
Metsuen's voice was cold, razor-sharp.
Heinrich recognized it immediately. He surely hadn't expected Metsuen to still be alive—he'd literally watched him vanish.
Shaking, Heinrich nodded.
Metsuen lifted him effortlessly, his new strength disturbingly natural and jumped back through the window with him.
—Now, you're going to tell me where your two stupid lackeys are, Metsuen growled, murderous intent in his voice.
The night was just beginning