The Price of Aid

Chapter 40

In the heart of Serenya, inside its grand Prime Hall, tension clung to the air like a storm about to break.

Delegates from across the region sat in silence, unease written across every face. At the highest seat in the center of the hall sat a young man with striking white-and-black hair—Han. His expression was calm, composed, almost detached, despite the growing tension.

The old elder beside him cleared his throat. "We should begin."

This emergency summit had been called at Han's request, meant to address the aftermath of the recent monster horde attacks—an event nothing short of catastrophic. While most cities on the northern continent had been left in shambles, Serenya and a few others had sustained only minor damage.

The first to rise was a middle-aged man in a worn-out coat. He bowed slightly to the elder and Han, then turned to face the others.

"Our city suffered greatly," he began, his voice strained. "Over half of our agricultural production was lost in the explosion triggered by your… Young Master during his battle with the horde. Because of that blast, we lost nearly 80% of our yearly revenue."

He glanced at Han, then continued, "We believe Serenya should compensate us."

A sharp, incredulous laugh broke the silence.

"You want what?" snapped a voice from across the room.

A man with sharp features and shoulder-length blonde hair stood—Aiden Vire, Vice Master of the Tryst Guild, and Han's close friend. His expression was pure disbelief.

The middle-aged man didn't flinch. "I said what I said. We lost everything due to your Young Master's reckless use of power. He should pay for the damage he caused."

"You damn shameless bastard," Aiden snapped. "If Han hadn't stepped in when he did, your entire city would've been eaten alive. You'd be dead, not whining about money!"

The man shrugged. "A good hero would've fought smarter. Minimized damage. It was his fault."

Aiden's fists clenched, veins bulging with fury. He looked seconds away from putting a crater in the man's chest.

Then—

"Aiden," came a calm voice.

Aiden turned. Han was still sitting, still calm.

"Yes?" Aiden growled through clenched teeth.

"Sit down."

Aiden grumbled, but obeyed, returning to his seat with a death glare aimed at the smug delegate.

Han's eyes shifted to the man. "Is that all?"

"Yes, my lord," the man said, and took his seat.

"Next," Han called.

An elderly man stood. His tone was more controlled, but his request was no different.

"A being made of living flame appeared during the chaos. It destroyed our storage facility and burned our vault to ashes. We lost everything. Revenue, supplies—gone. We demand full compensation… with interest."

Bang!

A metallic clang rang out as Aiden slammed his palm against the table, leaving a noticeable dent. His hand was no longer human—beastly, transformed. His eye flared with fury, locked on the old man, barely holding himself back.

Han shook his head, eyes still calm.

"Is that everything?" he asked.

The old man gave a small nod.

The elder beside Han glanced nervously at the young lord, wondering how he could remain so composed as these men tried to bankrupt Serenya for saving them.

Han spoke again. "Next."

A new delegate stood. This one was different—genuine.

"Our city needs only temporary support," he said. "Help rebuilding shelters. Nothing more. We'll repay you once our funding stabilizes."

Han nodded. "Noted. Sit."

One after another, the requests poured in—some reasonable, many outrageous.

Demands for revenue percentages.

Requests for vast quantities of resources.

One delegate even asked for millions of Yen in compensation.

And through it all, Han remained quiet. Listening.

Bang!

A loud crash echoed through the hall as Aiden slammed his fist into the metal table—this time, shattering it completely. The hall fell silent, all eyes turning toward him. His face was twisted with fury, his voice trembling with rage.

He had heard enough.

The man currently speaking wasn't just asking for aid—he was demanding Serenya rebuild their entire city to match Serenya's standards and pay a massive sum in compensation, as if Han's efforts had somehow wronged them.

"You want to do what? Kill me?" the man scoffed, voice cold and arrogant. "There's a rule, isn't there? No hero must harm a non-Awakener unless the law demands it. You lay a hand on me, and a Class-S Hero will be sent to execute judgment. Is that what you want?"

"You bastard," Aiden growled. His hand morphed into sharpened metal claws, his eyes glowing with restrained fury. "You come into my city, threaten us, and call it diplomacy?"

"Aiden."

Han's voice cut through the tension. Calm, cold, and commanding. Aiden froze. He turned to Han, breathing heavily.

"I told you to sit. So sit," Han said firmly.

Aiden didn't argue. He muttered a curse under his breath and stormed out of the hall, not because Han ordered it, but because Han was letting these parasites talk—letting them spew their greed without resistance. That, more than anything, made Aiden furious.

Inside the room, silence hung thick.

"You did well, my lord," the major spoke. "If you hadn't dismissed him, he might've kept spouting rubb—"

"You're Major Jin, aren't you?" Han interrupted.

The man smiled, bowing slightly. "Yes, my lord. From the city of Celtic."

"First of all," Han said, eyes narrowing, "I'm not your lord. You're not from Serenya. And secondly…"

He leaned forward, voice calm yet chilling, "Let this be a warning to all of you—especially you, Major Jin: Never threaten my people again. If you do, I'll make you regret ever setting foot in this world."

Though his tone remained steady, the weight behind his words silenced the hall. The men gathered had never seen Aiden fight—but they had seen Han. And they realized, far too late, that pushing him was a mistake.

They had assumed that because Han was young, they could pressure him. When the first major made his demands and Han said nothing, they mistook his silence for submission.

Han stood tall and spoke clearly, "All those who believe I acted recklessly and owe you compensation—raise your hands."

There was hesitation. Then, slowly, hands began to rise.

"Good," Han said. "Now, those who only seek temporary shelter and support to rebuild—raise your hands."

A few more hands went up—genuine, reasonable men.

Han nodded, turning his gaze to the three who had raised neither hand. "And what about you three?"

One of them cleared his throat. "We lost many people and suffered devastating casualties… We'd like to join Serenya—serve under your leadership."

Han took a moment to think, then nodded. "I'll consider it. You'll be contacted later."

He then turned to Katlyn, Serenya's financial overseer. "Provide full support and resources to those who asked only for shelter. They have my approval."

Finally, Han faced the group of smug, greedy officials who had requested outrageous sums of money and resources. "And these," he said, pointing to them—eight, maybe ten in total—"Every coin, every ounce of support they've received until now… will be reclaimed. Starting today, you are banned from Serenya. Permanently."

The room exploded in disbelief.

"What?!"

"You can't be serious!"

The proud, composed expressions of the majors collapsed into panic.

The old elder beside Han let out a loud laugh, unable to contain himself. Han had thrown their pride into the mud and stomped it beneath his feet.

"Wait just a damned minute!" one major shouted, his face flushed with rage. "What the hell do you think you're doing, boy? You may have control over this city, you might wield some fancy power, but we've been running cities since before your father was even born! Push us, and you'll find your people suffering more than we will."

Others grunted in agreement, spitting threats like venom.

""Did you just mention my father's name and threaten my people?" Han asked, his voice eerily calm.

The arrogant major sneered. "What will you do about it? Hit me? Kill me? Go ahead—if you dare. The Hero Association will know, and your people will pay for it.

"I won't hit you," Han said simply as he turned to face him. "But I meant what I said. I'll make you regret ever stepping foot into this world."

As the words left his lips, Han's blue eyes glowed crimson. The Eye of Defiance activated.

The old major's expression froze. His face went pale, then contorted in pain. He clutched his chest and began to sway, staggering backward. A bloodcurdling scream tore from his throat—raw, agonizing—enough to make the dead stir.

Then silence. He collapsed with a heavy thud, eyes wide open, still breathing… but utterly unresponsive. A living body, but a shattered mind.

The Eye of Defiance was no ordinary skill. It targeted a person's very consciousness, tormenting it to the brink. And since the major was a non-Awakener, he hadn't even lasted thirty seconds before his mind gave in and collapsed. Han pulled the skill back, worried he may have gone too far—but the damage was done. The man's spirit was broken.

The other majors stared, swallowing hard, sweat beading on their brows. What kind of monster were they facing? This boy didn't just threaten—he followed through—without even lifting a finger. And he hadn't broken a single rule. The major wasn't dead, but what Han did to him was, in some ways, far worse.

"So," Han said, turning to the rest of them with an innocent smile, tilting his head slightly like a curious child, "do any of you still believe my judgment was unfair?"

"N-no! Absolutely not!" one of the majors stammered, forcing a strained smile. "We're… extremely satisfied with your decision, my lord—uh, I mean, Lord of Serenya, sir!"

Han's eyes narrowed with amusement as he pointed to a short, middle-aged man—the one who had made the most ridiculous demand earlier. "What about you?"

"Me?" the man asked, panicking. "Of course not, my lord! I'm not angry! Not at all! In fact… your decision was perfect—sweet, even! The best thing that's ever happened to me!"

In the background, the old elder had nearly fallen out of his chair from laughing so hard.

"Good. Then take him," Han said, gesturing to the collapsed major, "and leave. Also, don't you dare show your faces at Serenya's doorstep again."

The men wasted no time. They nodded frantically, picked up the unfortunate old man, and bolted out the door.

"You wicked little punk," the elder said once they were gone, still chuckling. "That was brutal."

"Wicked?" Han asked, feigning a confused expression. "But they were happy with my decision."

The elder laughed even harder, reaching out to pat Han's head. "You're growing up, child. And you're starting to look more and more like him."

Han smiled quietly. He knew exactly who the elder meant—his father.

He used to long for his parents to return. But right now, he wasn't sure he wanted that. Not yet. He didn't know if they were truly as powerful as the old man said, but he had something he needed to do first—defeat the purple-haired man and find a cure for his aunt.

Because if his mother ever found out what happened to her sister because of his recklessness…

Laura might be scary, sure. But compared to his mom? Laura was a toddler throwing tantrums.

The thought of his mother returning, seeing her sister in that state, and turning to him with that devilish smile of hers?

Han shivered.

Just a little longer, Mom. Stay away just a little longer, he thought.

To be continued...