The crackle of fire devoured the forest.
Amid the smoke and embers, a young man lay slumped against the trunk of a fallen tree. His left arm bled uncontrollably, and his breathing was weak, ragged. The flames lit up his dirt- and blood-stained face, while the thick air reeked of iron and ash.
In front of him, two figures emerged from the dancing shadows of the blaze.
The first was a slender man, dressed in ornate clothes that shimmered in the firelight. A curved sword, polished like a mirror, hung from his belt. He looked at the boy and spoke in a cold tone:
—What do we do with him?
The second, taller and more muscular, had weathered skin and eyes as hard as stone. He stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking, then grunted:
—We're taking him. We can't go back empty-handed.
That brat… he's the descendant. And the old man's already dead.
As he spoke, his arm began to change. His skin hardened, turning gray and rocky; sharp spikes sprouted from it, and the cracks glowed with an earthy light. He clenched his fist, which creaked like stone splitting apart.
The man approached the boy, raising his hardened arm.
—This will only hurt for a second… —he said with a crooked grin.
But before he could finish, a crimson flash tore through the darkness.
A strange red crystal, pulsing and radiating flashes of black light, pierced his abdomen at lightning speed. The impact sent him staggering backward as the crystal hovered before the wounded boy's body.
—What was that?! —shouted the swordsman, alarmed. —A crystal? Where did it come from?!
The giant gritted his teeth, growling in pain as his wound began to close. White smoke poured from his body; hundreds of thin threads, like veins of energy, stitched his torn flesh together.
—Damn it… —he muttered angrily. —These things aren't supposed to move on their own…
He tried to grab the crystal with his stone hand, but it vanished, fusing into the boy's body. A faint glow spread through his chest, right where his heart beat. The air grew heavy, vibrating—as if something primordial had awakened.
The man roared, raising his arm in fury.
—I'll crush him!
—Wait, boss! —shouted the swordsman. —That kid's a user now. He's worth double. Don't kill him like an idiot!
The leader, his face hardened like stone, clicked his tongue.
—Shut up, Kenshin. I'm not gonna kill him… just knock him out. Even if he's a user now, he's still just a kid.
But before he could move, his arm fell to the ground—severed in a single strike.
He didn't even realize it until the pain coursed through his body. He stared, shocked, at his missing limb.
In front of him, the boy still had his eyes closed, but his hand was extended, pointing at his enemy. A thin white smoke rose from his wounds as they slowly began to close on their own.
—My arm…! —the man roared, trying to rebuild it with rock. —I can't…!
Kenshin unsheathed his sword, taking a defensive stance.
—He used chi in that strike, —he said, staring at the boy in disbelief. —But… he doesn't even know how to fight. How the hell…?
The stone man stared, stunned.
The boy's hair, once ash gray, had turned deep red, as if fire itself had dyed it.
The air around him vibrated with an ancient, unfamiliar energy. He didn't seem like the same boy anymore.
Slowly, the young man opened his eyes. They shone a bright crimson, reflecting the glow of the crystal now embedded in his chest. His voice, deeper and steadier, resonated in the thick silence.
—Hey, rock boy… sword guy…
What year is it?
For a moment, both men exchanged a confused glance, unable to understand the language.
Then they charged at once. Kenshin crossed his twin swords in front of the boy's neck, their blades turning black and smoking with dark energy.
The other, his arm half-regenerated, grabbed the boy's shoulder with superhuman strength.
—Who the hell are you?! —they roared together.
The boy smiled—a calm yet alien smile, the kind of smile that didn't belong to that time or that body.
—My Spanish level is quite low… so I don't really know what you're asking.
—But I see… a rock concept user, and a swordsman who manipulates chi.
—I'd suggest you leave while you can… but I'm not sure you speak English, so…
The boy lowered his gaze, his eyes glowing with a fierce red light.
—Get ready.