Meanwhile, Nael could hardly process what Zaara was telling him.
It was hard to believe his childhood friend could have done such a thing… and harder still to believe he had survived a battle against a Guardian. His heart pounded like a runaway drum.
—Are you sure about what you're saying, Zaara? Maybe someone was pretending to be him…
—I wish that were true —she replied, sadness clouding her eyes—. But I saw him with my own eyes.
—What did he tell you? Why would he do this? —Nael pressed, desperate for some reason behind the actions of the man they had once called a friend.
More than that, they were like family. The three of them —like so many others— had grown up together in the orphanage, without relatives, without anyone. In that place, they had found comfort in their shared loneliness.
Zaara shrugged, her expression heavy with sorrow. The wind brushed her cheeks as if trying to carry her pain away.
—He told me… he was Hayira Tenchi's son.
—What?! —Nael stepped back—. That's impossible. How?
—It wasn't him… —Zaara rose to her feet, lips trembling, and walked away without looking back.
Nael remained there, weighing her words, unable to believe them.
…
The king, furious, called the attack an act of treason. He ordered a royal decree: hunt down and eliminate the culprit and any possible accomplices. His voice thundered through the palace halls.
The city was drowning in chaos. It had been more than twenty years since an attack of this magnitude. The bells did not ring; the silence was far more terrifying. In the streets, the air reeked of fear, ash, and freshly turned earth.
The king was transported to the Silver City —the kingdom's capital and seat of government— under the escort of a massive contingent. The wheels of the carriages screeched against the cobblestones, while the people's eyes followed him with a mix of fear and hope.
During the journey, Damus, Guler's companion, noticed his distant expression. The wind toyed lazily with his cloak, as if it too sensed something amiss.
—Let it go. You'll have another chance to finish that boy —he suggested.
But Guler shook his head, staring at the horizon with a tense jaw.
—I don't think so. That boy is stronger than me. If I face him again… I know he'll defeat me.
—Don't be ridiculous. He just got lucky. Next time you see him, finish him. He's just a kid —Damus argued carelessly.
—You're wrong, Damus. He blocked my attacks with ease, and he never took me seriously. He was only focused on the detonator. And from what I could tell, he hardened not only his own body but the bodies of everyone within the blast radius.
Damus widened his eyes, stunned.
—You're saying we're alive… because he saved us?
—I'm not sure. But something tells me yes. That bomb had the power to obliterate us completely. Garu's "World Explosion" technique is nothing compared to it. If we're still breathing… it's because of him.
—You're delirious, Guler. You need rest. Leave it to the investigators.
But even Damus, as he said it, felt a sharp twist of doubt in his gut.
—If my suspicions are right, there's only one person who had that ability… —Guler murmured.
—You mean…?
—Yes. Hayira Tenchi.
—That's absurd. He died fifteen years ago. We saw his body. We killed him ourselves.
—I'm not talking about him. Hayira had two newborn children —a boy and a girl. Maybe they've returned. Maybe they want revenge.
—Friend… enough. Rest. We'll know the truth when the report comes.
But deep down, Damus knew the past never truly dies. Sometimes it comes back… thirsty for justice.
…
Blez crossed the sea and arrived in one of the neighboring coastal nations. He wore a dark cloak that hid his face. He headed for an old roadside inn, lit by flickering lamps. The smell of damp and aged wood enveloped him as he stepped inside. No one asked questions.
He pulled a few coins from his trouser pocket and handed them to the clerk without a word. Then he climbed the creaking stairs and entered his room. Each step echoed like an old, weary sigh through the wooden floor.
There, alone, he removed his cloak and bared his torso. The bruises were deep, dark purple over already torn skin. An open wound under his ribs burned with every breath, as if fire were being driven into him with every inhale.
—I've burned through too much energy… —he whispered hoarsely—. Zaara, Nael… kids… I hope someday you can forgive me.
The night wind tapped gently against the window, carrying the distant echo of the waves. The sound of the sea seemed to remind him he was still alive. He would stay in that inn until he fully recovered —there was still another mission to complete.
Two days later, the king summoned the Twelve Guardians of the Order —warriors who represented the ultimate defensive power of the nation. Of these twelve, eight bore the title of Supreme Guardians, rated at level S.
They gathered in the Hall of the Eternal Flame, where only matters of the gravest importance were discussed. The room glowed with floating columns of fire, and the floor shimmered with a living energy.
The first, Garu, was destruction incarnate. The second, Danes, could channel energy from his core into devastating techniques. The third, Maito, mastered the summoning of creatures; he could swap places with them, regenerate, or mutate his body —many believed he might be immortal. The fourth, Kano, could manipulate all known elements. The fifth, Guler, was a master of internal energy manipulation; his blows could topple mountains. The sixth, Akena, descended from the mythical Hú clan, wielded the Eye of Fire, a technique capable of altering dimensions and creating molecular shockwaves. The seventh, Damus, could mimic any technique he saw —even improve it— and was considered by some the strongest of them all… if only his body could withstand more. The eighth, Hercano, was the oldest; he had lived through three generations of Supreme Guardians. His experience earned him the respect of all, though he himself ranked below the others.
All of them carried Genki —an energy granted by nature itself, residing at their core, granting them spatial, destructive, or defensive abilities. The air seemed to vibrate in their presence.
The other four Guardians were powerful as well, though they had not yet reached the level of the Eight Supremes.
The king rose before them, his voice cutting through the air like a blade of ice.
—I've called you here because our nation faces a threat unseen in decades. The enemy who attacked two days ago possesses terrifying power.
The minister of war stepped forward, his face pale in the flickering light of the flames.
—Fifteen years ago, as many of you will remember, we were betrayed by a man who was once a pillar of this nation: Hayira Tenchi. His betrayal cost him his life.
A shadow crossed the eyes of the older Guardians. The silence in the hall was so heavy even the fire seemed to respect it.
—The attacker from two days ago used the same technique Hayira displayed in his final moments. He saved dozens of lives by hardening their bodies from a distance. He also used an illusionary technique to animate wooden logs, giving them the appearance of Arkano warriors.
Guler's eyes widened. His suspicions were now certain: the young man had never truly fought him seriously.
—After a thorough investigation —the minister continued— we have discovered the truth: the attacker is Hayira Tenchi's son. His real name is…
Pause.
—Ibaki Tenchi.
Guler turned slightly toward Damus, who showed no reaction.
—By order of the king —the minister went on— the Twelve Guardians are not to intervene directly. For this mission, we have hired an external executor. His name is Daruk Kruga. He will be in charge of capturing or eliminating the target.
Guler raised his hand, asking to speak. The king glanced at him over his shoulder.
—You have the floor —the minister said.
—I have only one question. What were the boy's intentions? From what we saw, there were no serious injuries.
The minister began to answer, but the king cut him off.
—That's not what matters —he said gravely—. The fact is, his act was criminal, and he must answer for it.
—My lord, let me be the one to find him. I don't believe it's wise for a bounty hunter to judge his actions. This matter concerns the Kingdom of Zinaria.
The Guardians exchanged glances. The king stepped down from the dais, his gaze sharp, his steps heavy.
—Are you contradicting my orders, Supreme Guler?
—No, sir —Guler replied, his tone steady.
The meeting ended. The echo of footsteps on marble was the only sound left in the hall.
Guler walked through the stone corridors. Damus caught up to him.
—You were right —he admitted quietly.
—I told you —Guler said, letting out a humorless laugh as he ran both hands over his face—. The past is knocking at our door.
—Don't worry about it anymore. Daruk and his team will stop him.
Guler shook his head, his voice turning dark.
—Doesn't it seem excessive to send Daruk Kruga —the most lethal killer on the continent— after a single boy?
—It's not our concern. We follow orders. Have you forgotten your oath?
—I haven't… —Guler paused, deep in thought—. That technique of animating Arkano warriors from logs… I've never seen anything like it.
Damus said nothing. He only grunted and walked on. But deep inside, a doubt began to take shape, rumbling like the distant tremor of the inevitable.