The world around him was blurry.
Kenjirou's body ached, every muscle screaming in pain.
His vision slowly adjusted, revealing the dim glow of a small lantern.
A gentle voice spoke nearby.
"Oh, don't move too much. You're still heavily injured."
Kenjirou winced, feeling bandages wrapped tightly around his wounds.
His mind was foggy.
Where… am I?
How was he still alive?
"…How did I get here?"
The figure tending to him paused.
Then, in a calm tone, they replied—
"A villager found you by the river."
Kenjirou's breath hitched.
A river?
That meant he had drifted far—very far—from Armand.
He gritted his teeth, flashes of memory stabbing into his mind.
The massacre.
The monstrous boy with lifeless eyes.
The hammer crushing his comrades.
The limitless rage, the terrifying power.
A cold sweat formed on his forehead.
His hands trembled.
Javier…