Across the battlefield, Rovan—was a juggernaut. He cleaved through lines of enemy soldiers, ignoring even direct hits from high-velocity sniper rounds.
One Velthorn soldier cried, "He's not human—!"
Then his head rolled.
Within twenty minutes, half of Velthorn's forces were gone. Bodies littered the ground. The younger generation of Ren—Kaito's cousins and sister—had been sheltered safely in the underground panic room, under armed protection.
In the upper chamber—
Dren collapsed, his legs failing. He'd taken six deep cuts, three burns, and had broken ribs. Rygar, panting, pointed his blade at the man's throat.
"Any last words?"
Dren hissed, spitting blood. "My brother… will avenge me—!"
Shhhnk.
The blade sank into his heart.
Downstairs—
Bane staggered back into the courtyard, bloodied and limping. "You… Ren bastard… You think this changes anything?"
Luther emerged behind him. "This changes everything."
He pointed his blade.
"You've killed. Blackmailed. Poisoned. Smuggled weapons. And you even had the guts to think of harming my family."
"You're no better!" Bane roared, drawing his final blade—a charged vibrosaber crackling with magnetic waves.
Luther held out his hand.
A shimmer of air—then a longsword of glowing crystal-light emerged from his back scabbard. Etched into its length were ancient runes that pulsed as he gripped it.
The two men charged.
Their clash echoed across the ruined villa. Sparks showered the night sky. Bane fought like a demon, pushing his dying strength to the limit. But Luther was steady, relentless.
Strike.
Block.
Parry.
Riposte.
Then—
CRACK.
Bane's saber shattered against the crystalline edge of Luther's sword.
"No—!"
Luther stepped forward and, with one fluid motion, slashed across Bane's chest. A streak of red followed.
Bane gasped.
Luther held the blade to his throat.
The blade fell.
And Bane Velthorn died.
….
As the echoes of battle faded, and the final breath left Bane Velthorn's body, Luther Ren lowered his sword, now soaked in blood. He turned not with satisfaction, but grim necessity.
"Leave no survivors," he said coldly.
Rygar "Understood."
And so, the final phase of the purge began.
The remaining fifty Velthorn guards, most of them wounded or in hiding, were rooted out methodically. The rune-tracker devices from the ruins pulsed with red trails, exposing life signatures even behind sealed panic rooms and hidden bunkers.
Some tried to beg for mercy.
Some screamed.
Others fought with their last bullets.
None survived.
Rovan—led the extermination personally, cleaving down squads hiding in underground corridors. His black armor was now bathed in a layer of dried crimson, his axe humming with the low whine of active mana. One by one, the last holdouts were executed.
Then came the most tragic scene—the so-called "innocents."
The younger generation of Velthorn, including the three young men and the teenage girl—barely sixteen—along with their mothers had locked themselves inside a secured shelter beneath the library wing. Protected by biometric locks and reinforced alloys, it was a last refuge.
It didn't matter.
The Ren family used a resonance shard to breach the vault.
As the steel door groaned open, the children inside screamed.
The girl rushed forward, tears in her eyes. "Please! We're just—!"
Shhk!
Rygar's blade pierced her heart in one clean thrust.
"Your name is Velthorn," he said simply.
The boys tried to fight, reaching for hidden weapons.
They died, too.
It was done.
Every Velthorn. Dead.
The villa was silent again—eerily so.
Not a single Ren guard fell. Only one man had been wounded, and even he was already being tended to by the medical patch made by the family using the ruin's formula.
The entire operation lasted less than two hours. And it was still midnight.
"Let's Go" said Luther after they had cleared all their traces, leaving behind a bloody mess.
...
Kaito came out of his cabin.
The chill of the air-conditioned studio greeted him first. Despite the stillness of the night, something in the atmosphere felt different—tense, as though the entire world had just exhaled.
"Jin," he called softly.
The AI assistant's avatar flickered to life on the studio terminal, its sleek humanoid projection bowing politely.
"Prepare the car," Kaito ordered. "We're heading back to the villa."
"Understood," Jin replied, vanishing into data streams.
A few minutes later, the studio gate slid open, and the black hover-sedan purred onto the silent roads of Silvercrest. The ride was quiet. Kaito didn't speak, and Jin didn't ask.
By the time the car entered the Ren family estate, the villa was bathed in soft interior lighting. It was past midnight, yet the front garden lights still glowed faintly, casting long shadows across the stone path.
Kaito stepped inside.
To his surprise, the main hall was lit. From the corridor leading to the dining room, faint voices could be heard—soft, subdued, laced with something between restraint and anticipation.
As he approached, he saw them.
His grandmother, seated at the head of the table. Silent. Her hands rested over her lap, fingers folded, eyes watching the untouched food in front of her.
Next to her, his mother, Yume Ren, still in her night robe, a loose shawl draped over her shoulders. She wasn't eating either—just stirring her tea absentmindedly, as though waiting for a call that hadn't yet come.
His grandfather was there as well, seated beside his wife. The old man's expression was blank, but a cold glint shone behind his eyes. He didn't move. Didn't speak.
At the far end of the table, the family's personal staff had already retreated.
Kaito took a step forward, then paused. The air in the room felt heavy.
"They've already gone?"
"They left an hour ago," his mother replied softly. "Your father… your third uncle… and the 100 trained guards. Along with the 23 core guards."
Kaito's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak right away.
His gaze dropped to the steaming cup of tea in front of his grandfather. It was still hot. Not a sip taken.
Kaito walked over to the table and sat down slowly.
For a moment, the silence stretched.
Then, Kaito reached across and gently placed his hand over her.
"You don't need to worry," he said quietly. "The Velthorn family's strongest force is their patriarch, Bane Velthorn—he may be Rank 2 late-stage, just like Father, but Father's techniques are superior… thanks to the ruins."
They exchanged faint smiles, the heaviness in their hearts easing—if only for a moment.
Their worries now slightly eased, the family slowly began sipping their tea. Even Grandfather raised his cup with a soft exhale, though his grip lingered longer than usual. The silence wasn't awkward—it was expectant, like the stillness before a bell tolls.
But then came a faint sound.
A low mechanical hum—followed by the subtle grind of tires over gravel.
A moment later, the side door opened.
Luther and Rygar stepped inside, Though they had already showered and changed into clean tunics before entering the villa, the scent of blood and iron still clung faintly to the air around them.
Their faces were expressionless.
But Grandfather's sharp eyes narrowed almost instantly.
He saw it—not in their hands, not in their posture—but in the weight behind their gaze. That invisible thread of killing intent still coiled around them, barely restrained.
It was the look of men who had returned from the edge of death.
After they sat at the table,
Kaito's gaze swept across the table, resting briefly on each member of his family. There was no need to ask what had happened. The air told him everything.
And yet, now that the storm had passed, a strange calm filled the room.
He broke the silence.
"It's done now, isn't it?" Kaito said, his voice low but steady. "One of the threats hanging over our heads... has been removed."
No one replied, but no one needed to. Even his grandmother closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, as though releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Kaito leaned back slightly in his chair, one arm resting along the polished wood.
"Now that Father no longer has rivals breathing down his neck, he can finally shift focus. The company won't consume all his energy anymore. He can afford to delegate more—to let the managers handle what they're paid for."
Luther raised an eyebrow, lips quirking faintly. "You make it sound like I'm a control freak."
"Aren't you?" Kaito grinned.
Rygar chuckled softly. Even their grandfather's lips curled ever so slightly.
"And you, Third Uncle," Kaito continued, glancing at Rygar with a knowing smirk. "You've been having a bit too much fun lately."
Rygar shrugged. "It's been a while since I stretched properly."
At that moment, the door to the study creaked open.
Kaito turned his head just in time to see his Second Uncle stepping into the dining hall, still buttoning his coat.
"So the ruckus finally stirred you," Kaito remarked with mock surprise. "I was starting to wonder if you'd sleep through a war."
Second Uncle muttered something unintelligible and poured himself a fresh cup of tea.
His grandmother gave him a look, but didn't comment. It was enough to make him sit straighter.
Kaito turned back to the rest. "In any case, now that our schedule's cleared up, I think it's time the rest of you logged into Glory."
His father gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh? Recruiting your elders now, are you?"
"Of course," Kaito said without hesitation. "The game is no joke. We've barely scratched the surface of what's coming. The better your combat instincts in there, the better you'll react here. Besides... we could use your help."