Chapter Eight – A Celebration of Life

The Satoru mansion was alive with excitement. Maids rushed around, hanging banners, arranging flowers, and preparing everything for my birthday. I didn't ask for this, but Father and Mother insisted. They wanted today to be special.

The smell of fresh pastries and roasted meat filled the halls. Chefs were working hard in the kitchen, chopping, stirring, and shouting orders. Everything was being done for me. It was overwhelming.

I sat on my bed, lost in meditation, focusing on gathering mana throughout my body. Sweat trickled down my forehead, but I pushed forward. It wasn't easy, but after what felt like an eternity—

"Finally."

I clenched my fists, feeling the energy coursing through me. The mana had settled in my body. I had taken another step forward.

Before I could dwell on it, the door creaked open, and Alya entered. She was one of the maids, a kind girl with soft eyes.

"Good morning, young master Kibo," she said with a smile.

As I glanced at her, something strange happened. A faint glow surrounded her, something I hadn't noticed before. I focused, and suddenly, I could see it—mana.

"I can see people's mana now?" I thought, surprised.

But before I could explore this new ability, Alya picked me up effortlessly. My body tensed, and my face burned.

"Not again."

Being carried like this was embarrassing, but what choice did I have? To them, I was just a baby.

She carried me to the bathroom, humming softly. The moment she started bathing me, I wanted to disappear.

"No matter how many times this happens, it never stops being embarrassing."

I sighed, staring at the ceiling as warm water washed over me. But as she scrubbed my back, I relaxed a little.

"It's not that bad, I guess."

After my bath, Alya dressed me and carried me through the halls. Workers were still setting up decorations, their faces filled with determination. As I observed them, I saw it again—some had mana, others didn't. And the ones who did had different colors.

"So not everyone has mana… and those who do have different affinities?"

I made a mental note to think about it later.

Alya carried me to my parents' room and gently knocked before opening the door. Inside, Mother sat in front of a mirror, her long blonde hair cascading down her back as Sylvie combed through it. They looked peaceful together.

The moment Mother saw me, her entire face lit up.

"My baby!" she cried, standing up immediately.

She rushed over and took me from Alya's arms, holding me close. Her warmth, her scent—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Without thinking, I muttered, "Mama."

The room went silent.

Mother froze, her eyes widening. Then, suddenly—

"My baby is talking! My baby can talk!"

She hugged me even tighter, spinning around in excitement. I sighed.

"She's overreacting… but honestly, who wouldn't want a mother like this?"

Sylvie cleared her throat softly.

"My lady," she said, reminding Mother that she still had her hair half-combed.

Mother beamed at me, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"My baby, happy birthday."

She carried me to the bed and laid me down gently.

"I have a wonderful gift for you."

I blinked.

"A gift?"

Maybe a new toy? A book? Or something even bigger?

Mother closed her eyes and placed a hand on my chest. A gentle warmth spread through me before she pulled away, her expression filled with love.

"Happy birthday, Kibo."

I waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened. No sudden burst of power. No visible change.

"That's it? No flash of light? No energy surge? What did she even do?"

I must have frowned because Mother's face fell.

"You don't like my present?" she asked softly.

My heart clenched. No, I didn't want to see that expression.

"I wuv you," I blurted out.

Mother gasped, her sadness vanishing in an instant. A wide, joyful smile spread across her face.

"Mama loves you too!" she said, hugging me tightly.

I felt Sylvie and Alya watching us, smiling softly at the moment we shared.

This warmth.

This love.

It was something I never had in my past life. But instead of questioning it, I let myself sink into it.

Mother turned to Sylvie.

"Bring his clothes."

Sylvie nodded and retrieved a beautiful outfit.

"This is from Elegance Couture," Mother explained. "They gave it to us after Sylvie protected them during the explosion."

The memory flashed in my mind. The fear, the chaos, the burning pain in my chest. But more than that, I remembered Mother shielding me and Sylvie fighting to protect us.

"I had forgotten about them," I thought. "All I cared about was making sure Mother was safe."

Mother held up the outfit for me to see. It was different from my usual clothes—more refined, more elegant.

I reached out, touching the fabric.

"It's nice," I admitted to myself.

But at that moment, I realized something else.

This was my life now. This warmth. This love. This family.

And for the first time, I didn't fight it.

I let myself accept it.

Duke Ryuu's Study Room

The afternoon sun bathed the study in a golden glow, but Duke Ryuu felt none of its warmth. He sat behind his massive desk, his emerald eyes scanning the guest list in his hands. His grip tightened slightly as he paused at one particular name. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

Tanaka stood nearby, his posture straight, his hands clasped behind his back. He had served the Duke long enough to recognize when something troubled him. He waited in silence, knowing Ryuu would speak when ready.

"The priest from the Eastern Province…" Ryuu's voice was steady, but a hint of irritation crept in. "He's actually coming?"

Tanaka gave a small nod. "Yes, my lord. He is already on his way."

Ryuu exhaled slowly, setting the list down on the desk. "And the Saintess?"

"She remains in the church. There are… complications."

A deep frown formed on Ryuu's face. He had counted on her presence. Not just as a guest, but as a counterbalance to the priest's influence. His mind raced through the possibilities.

"We need to be careful today," Ryuu muttered, rubbing his temple. "I don't trust that man. And with everything else…" He shook his head.

Tanaka said nothing. He knew his master was thinking about the growing unrest in the kingdom, the shifting alliances, the subtle yet dangerous changes happening in the shadows.

Ryuu's gaze returned to the list. "The King?"

Tanaka hesitated. "He will not be attending."

Silence stretched between them.

"And his reason?"

"Unknown."

Ryuu's expression darkened. That was unlike the King.

"Any representative?"

"Only one. His advisor, Cedric."

A brief pause. Then, Ryuu gave a small nod. "Cedric… no issues there."

He leaned back, drumming his fingers against the desk. His mind was still heavy with thoughts when he spoke again. "Any news from my father?"

Tanaka's expression turned grim. "No, my lord. No word from him. However, our guards are on high alert, and our informants remain vigilant."

Ryuu exhaled sharply through his nose. Something was off. He could feel it.

He glanced toward the window, watching the sun dip lower. His son's birthday was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but in his gut, he felt a storm brewing.

The Village Shop

The Satoru marketplace was alive with chatter and laughter. Stalls overflowed with vibrant fabrics, golden trinkets, and the rich scent of freshly baked bread. It was a picture of peace and prosperity.

But beneath it, something rotten festered.

At the heart of the market stood Lily's Boutique. To the world, it was an elegant shop filled with perfumes and dresses. Inside, women browsed silk gowns and delicate jewelry. The owner smiled warmly at customers, chatting as though nothing in the world could be amiss.

But beneath the shop, in a hidden dungeon, the air was thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and fear.

A whip cracked, followed by a scream.

A young beast girl, no older than ten, lay curled on the cold stone floor, her small body trembling. A deep cut burned across her back, fresh and raw.

A man loomed over her, the whip in his hand dripping with blood. He grinned. "Get up, you damn animal."

She whimpered but didn't move.

The man raised the whip again.

"GET UP, I SAID!"

He brought it down hard.

A scream echoed through the chamber, but it was quickly swallowed by the sounds of chains rattling, muffled sobs, and the cruel laughter of the slavers.

In another corner of the dungeon, a group of beastwomen huddled together, their eyes filled with exhaustion and despair. One of them, a fox-eared woman, whispered, "Please… please stop…"

A guard sneered, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her to her feet. "Oh? You still have energy to beg?" His laughter was cruel. "Then you have energy for other things, don't you?"

She shut her eyes, bracing herself.

Elsewhere in the dungeon, in a dimly lit room, a fat merchant sat on a wooden chair, greed dripping from his eyes as he watched a trembling rabbit girl cower against the wall.

Her ears were flattened, her tiny body shaking.

The merchant licked his lips. "You'll fetch a high price, little one."

She sobbed. "P-Please… don't…"

The merchant raised his hand and struck her across the face.

She screamed.

"No one is coming to save you—"

His words cut off.

A sudden, sharp whistle sliced through the air.

A thud.

A choked gasp.

The merchant's face contorted in horror as he looked down at his arm—or rather, where his arm had been. His severed hand lay twitching on the ground, blood pooling beneath it.

His screams filled the room.

"AAAAAHHHHHH! MY HAND! MY HAND!"

A figure in a black hood stood before him, a bloodstained dagger dripping onto the floor.

The merchant fell backward, clutching his bleeding wrist, his beady eyes darting around in sheer terror. "W-Who—who the hell—"

A voice, calm and emotionless, cut through the air.

"Are there any more slaves in this nation?"

The merchant's breath came in ragged gasps. He knew the stories. He knew who stood before him.

He began to tremble violently. "I-I can pay you! Double—triple—whatever you want! Just don't—"

A boot slammed down on his leg.

CRACK.

A sickening snap.

The merchant shrieked, his body convulsing in pain.

"I asked you a question."

"N-NO! NO MORE! I SWEAR!"

The hooded figure was silent.

The merchant's fingers fumbled for something in his pocket—a small orb, meant to signal his men.

The cloaked figure chuckled, a sound so cold it made the room feel even darker.

"There's no need for that."

The merchant froze.

"All your men are dead."

The color drained from his face.

Rage flickered in his eyes. He gritted his teeth. "You… damn bastard…!"

He lunged.

A flash of steel.

A soft thud.

His body collapsed.

His head rolled to the side. Eyes wide. Lifeless.

Silence.

The rabbit girl curled into herself, sobbing. Her entire body trembled. She shut her eyes tightly, expecting the worst.

Footsteps approached.

A hand rested on her head.

She flinched.

But instead of pain, she felt warmth.

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

An old man knelt before her. White hair. Emerald eyes. Strong, but kind.

His voice was soft, gentle. "Don't be afraid, little one."

Tears welled up in her eyes. The fear, the pain, the loneliness—everything broke inside her. She let out a strangled sob and threw herself into his arms, clutching his cloak as she cried.

He held her close, his voice steady as he whispered, "It's over. No one will ever hurt you again."

Her cries filled the dark chamber, but this time… they were heard.

Back at the Satoru Mansion

Carriages kept pulling up, one after another. Different sizes, different styles, but all of them screamed the same thing—power, wealth, status. Nobles stepped out, dressed like they were competing for who looked the richest.

Inside, the party was already alive. Laughter, chatter, music. Fake smiles everywhere. Servants moved around like ghosts, offering drinks, carrying trays. The air was thick with perfume and arrogance.

I was in my mother's arms, looking down at it all from the grand staircase. It felt... suffocating. So many people. So many eyes.

Father stood beside us. His hand reached for mother's, his voice soft.

"You are the most beautiful lady in this hall."

Mother's cheeks turned pink.

I rolled my eyes internally. Father always acts like this…

But I wasn't thinking about them for long. I was focused on something else. Mana.

I searched for it, trying to feel it in the people below. But—nothing. None of these nobles had mana. Their guards did, but them? Empty. Weak.

Then I checked mother.

And something was... strange.

It was there, but wrong. I couldn't explain it, but my instincts screamed that something about mother's body was different.

"Happy birthday, Kibo."

Father's voice pulled me back. His lips pressed against my forehead. Mother smiled at me, warm, comforting.

Then—

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen!"

Tanaka's voice echoed through the hall. The moment it did, I felt my chest tighten.

"Duke Ryuu Satoru and Duchess Lady Luna Satoru, accompanied by Kibo Satoru, the newest member of the Satoru household!"

Applause. Loud. Too loud.

My breath caught in my throat.

So many eyes.

Watching. Staring.

No. Not this again.

A classroom. Laughter. Footsteps. Hands grabbing. Pushing. Hitting—

I clenched mother's dress tightly.

My body felt hot. My head dizzy. I wanted to hide, disappear, run.

Then—

A whisper. Soft. Gentle.

"It's alright, my baby. Mama is here."

Mother's voice. Close. Real.

I looked up at her. Her smile was steady, warm.

I took a shaky breath.

Safe. I was safe.

Father excused himself to speak with the other nobles. Time passed. I barely paid attention as mother spoke with two noblewomen—the same ones from the garden. They gushed over me, but I wasn't listening.

Because then—

I felt it.

Something cold. Heavy. Twisting through the air like a snake.

I turned.

A man walked toward us.

Priest robes. Silver symbols. But his mana—it was black.

Dark. Wrong.

The noblewomen greeted him like he was normal. Like they couldn't feel what I did.

"Priest, it's a pleasure to meet you," one of them said.

"I didn't know you attended parties," the other added.

The priest smiled. But it wasn't warm.

"This party is a special one."

His gaze locked onto mother. Then onto me.

Mother kept her polite smile. "My, my, what brings you here, Priest?"

The noblewomen took the hint and excused themselves. It was just him and us now.

The priest extended his hand. "I just wanted to see your son and give him my blessings from the goddess."

His hand moved toward me.

No.

Something was wrong. I felt it in my bones. If he touched me—

Something bad would happen.

My chest tightened. My body refused to move. I couldn't speak. Couldn't stop him.

Then—

A hand shot out, grabbing the priest's wrist.

The grip was firm. Unshakable.

The priest stopped. His smile flickered.

A new voice. Low. Strong. Deadly.

"Don't think about it, Priest."

I blinked.

An old man. White hair. Emerald eyes. His presence was heavy. He felt different from the priest—alive, but dangerous. A storm held back by willpower alone.

The priest's smile returned, but I saw it now. It wasn't real.

"Ah… the Reaper."

Mother's arms tightened around me.

The priest slowly pulled his hand back.

The air was tense. Something unspoken passed between the two men.

I swallowed hard.

I looked at the old man again.

His mana was red.

Burning. Alive.

Who is he?