That day and today

The old man smiled. "I'm Kaito. Just call me Kaito."

Akira frowned. "I'll call you... Old Man."

Kaito laughed and patted his head. "Fair enough. That sounds just right."

And so, days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Akira began to smile again. He worked in the shop with Kaito, learned the business, cleaned the shelves, even joked with the customers.

One evening, as they closed up the shop, Kaito turned to him.

"Akira, have you finished your graduation?"

Akira looked down. "No... I dropped out. After they abandoned me, I had no way to pay the fees."

Kaito's smile softened. "Would you like to go back?"

"I can't. It's expensive."

"Let me handle that," Kaito said. "You don't need to worry. I want you to have a future. You'll take over the store someday, but having your education would be even better."

Akira's shoulders trembled. "Why? Why are you doing all this for me? I'm just... a kid someone threw away."

Kaito knelt before him, resting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Then let me be your family."

Akira's breath caught. He looked up.

Kaito smiled warmly. "From now on, you're not alone."

After that day, Akira made a quiet promise to himself.

He would study—not for grades, not for approval—but simply to make the old man smile. Kaito had given him everything without asking for anything in return. So Akira would give him what he could in his own way.

Day by day, he buried himself in books. Lessons, formulas, history, language—everything he could get his hands on. Even the teachers began to take notice. By the time the midterm exams arrived, rumors had already begun to spread: That quiet kid? He's going to take first place for sure.

Akira didn't care about the whispers. He had no friends, no one to talk to, and no interest in changing that. He wasn't cold—just detached. Like a spirit drifting through hallways rather than a boy.

One day, a boy approached him. The kind with a permanent smirk and a small army of followers. He was the type who laughed too loudly at his own jokes and made sport out of cruelty. Akira recognized him instantly—the same face, the same voice… the same bully who would one day push him off that mountain.

"Oi," the bully sneered, "so it's true, huh? You live with some wrinkled old geezer? No family of your own?"

His cronies laughed.

Akira didn't respond. He just continued walking.

But the bullying didn't stop. Day after day, it grew worse. They shoved him in the halls, tore pages from his notebooks, spread lies. And yet, he remained silent. In his head, he told himself the same thing over and over:

I could end this right now. I could crush them all.

But he didn't. He knew that reacting would only make it worse. Escalation would bring attention, and attention could bring separation from the only person he had—Kaito.

So he endured.

One afternoon, after another particularly harsh round of torment, the bully clapped his hands and said, "Ahhh, today was fun. Let's bounce, boys."

The group laughed and left.

Akira, eyes low, quietly gathered his belongings. His thoughts were simple:

Just go home. Kaito's waiting.

The scene faded.

Later, at home, the sun had long dipped behind the rooftops. Akira slid the front door open, expecting the scent of stew or the sound of the old man humming.

Instead, he smelled blood.

A lot of it.

His eyes widened, his entire body frozen. The wooden floor was slick with red. The store was wrecked. And at the center of it all… was Kaito.

The old man lay crumpled on the floor, lifeless.

Akira didn't scream.

He didn't cry.

He simply walked forward, step by step, and sat beside the body. His hand rested on the blood-soaked tatami.

And for the first time in years…

He felt truly alone again.

The front door creaked open once again.

The same boy stepped inside—the one who had mocked him, beaten him, humiliated him. The same bully who would push him from the edge of the world.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with a devious smile, standing among the bloodied shelves and shattered memories.

Akira didn't respond. He just stared blankly at Kaito's body.

"Tch, whatever. Come with me," the boy said, grabbing Akira by the arm.

And then—it began.

Storm clouds gathered. Thunder rolled across the heavens, loud and angry. The screen of memory turned black.

A heavy sound echoed in the dark—something massive crashing to earth.

The blackness faded.

And we saw a body.

A small, broken body lying at the bottom of a mountain cliff. Arms bent wrong. Blood spreading beneath him.

It was Akira.

He had been thrown… no, pushed.

The scene ended.

Back in present Leo's body trembled. His face was soaked in tears. His sobs were soft, choked, as if each breath hurt.

I never cried for anything… not even in my past life, Leo thought. Then why… why does it hurt so much now?

"Leo…"

A voice—gentle, weak, but filled with love.

Selene.

She smiled through the blood on her lips. "It's okay, Leo. Now that we know everything… we can leave this world properly."

Leo's breath caught.

That meant—everything he'd remembered, everything he had just lived through—he had shared it with them. He had told them everything about his past life.

He dropped to his knees beside them. "I'm sorry… I couldn't be a good son. I'm sorry. I'm not even—your chi—"

Selene lifted a trembling hand and placed her finger on his lips.

A mother's touch.

"I bore you, Leo," she said, smiling gently. "That makes you my child. Your past is just that—past. Let it go."

Then, Caden, smiling despite the pain, reached out his hand and placed it over Selene's. They looked at each other one last time and said together, "Because we love you."

Leo's sobs deepened, shaking his entire body.

"Mom… why aren't you healing yourself? Dad… how could they defeat you?!"

Selene's voice was barely audible. "He… he consumed all our mana."

Leo's eyes widened. "Then… take mine! Take mine, please!"

Caden chuckled faintly, coughing blood. "Sorry… we don't know how to transfer it."

His voice was fading fast now.

"Dad—Dad!!"

Selene whispered, "Leo… can you… please let me rest beside Caden…?"

Leo wiped his tears and nodded. He gently picked her up and laid her down beside Caden. The two looked at each other with faint smiles.

Their hands found each other once more.

"They took your sister… to the nobles' castle," Selene said.

Caden's voice was heavy with fury. "Leo… kill that bastard hero."

Selene looked at Leo, her eyes softer. "I was wrong… about the hero. So maybe… I was wrong about the witches too. Maybe… they aren't evil."

Leo stared at her, stunned. "You mean…?"

She smiled, weakly. "Yeah… you should talk to them. The witches."

Leo clenched his fists. "I will. I'll do it. I'll take revenge. I'll save Lia. I'll do whatever it takes."

Suddenly, both Caden and Selene coughed up blood.

They looked at Leo one last time and smiled.

"We love you, Leo."

"Wait! No—no, don't go—!"

They smiled still.

Their hands held tight.

And their eyes… closed.

The world around him went silent.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

Leo screamed into the burning sky, his voice full of pain, fury, and heartbreak.

The flames around the house crackled… but nothing was louder than his grief.

Leo knelt there, between the lifeless bodies of the only people who had ever called him "son." His hands trembled. His heart ached like never before.

He wanted to scream again… but there were no more tears to give.

Just silence… and a choice.

Then, slowly, Leo reached out.

"If I can't save you…" he whispered, "…then at least let a part of you live within me."

His fingers glowed with a deep, eerie black light—Void Reclaim.

He didn't chant. He didn't summon magic circles or mutter forbidden words like other sorcerers. He didn't need to.

He simply willed it.

A thought. A desire.

And the spell answered him.

Black threads of light slithered from his fingertips, wrapping around Caden and Selene's bodies. For a moment, the air was still. Then, like a silent vacuum, their skills were absorbed—Healing. Ice. Fire. Strength Boosting.

Leo gasped slightly, feeling their power settle inside him. But it wasn't the strength that made him tremble.

It was the fact that now, in a way, they were still with him.

"I'll carry you… always," he whispered.

''Tch... Why I am so weak, the only reason I could take out their skill was because mom told me that when somebody die in our world his aura and mana get's out and that person is weaker than anything at that time as his aura and mana get's out of that person his skills which are in his mana and aura also come outside.''

His gaze moved across the ruined home, the shattered walls, the blood-soaked floor. This house—this sanctuary—was now just a tomb.

He stood, eyes burning not from smoke, but sorrow. He knew what he had to do.

He raised his hand. The frost in his veins surged forward. The air turned deathly cold.

Ice bloomed beneath his feet, encasing the bodies of Caden and Selene, wrapping them in a cube of crystal-clear frozen light. They looked peaceful inside, like they were merely asleep.

Leo stepped back.

"…You don't deserve to stay in this cruel world. You deserve peace."

And with a flick of his fingers—

CRACK!

The ice shattered into thousands of shards, glittering like stars in the firelight.

Ashes to ashes. Ice to air.

He stood still for a moment, surrounded by flames and smoke… his home burning behind him.

Then, slowly, he wiped the last of his tears with the back of his hand.

His eyes—once filled with innocence—now held the steel of vengeance.

The boy who had left for his first quest that morning… was gone.

In his place stood someone else—someone forged by grief, hatred, and love.

He turned.

And walked out of the flames.

His silhouette cut through the smoke like a blade—head held high, fire behind him, cold resolve ahead.

As Leo stepped out of the burning house, a sharp gust of wind brushed past his face—carrying with it the smell of ash, blood, and memories he wished he could forget.

There was nothing left here. Nothing but broken dreams and shattered peace.

He looked toward the path leading out of the village, the same direction his mother had whispered to him with her dying breath.

The forest. The witch.

If there was any hope… any power to stand against the nobles, against the Hero Kael, against this damned fate—it had to begin there.

He took a deep breath and began walking, his steps heavy, yet sure.

But then… something caught his eye.

Lyra's house.