Ch-4 “Darius: Born of Silence”

Kazuki's whisper—"So…"—echoed softly, but it carried weight.

Suddenly, Vareon's vision blurred. The throne hall faded from focus, as if the world around him had momentarily vanished. But this wasn't a spirit attack. No force had struck him. Yet... his mind was no longer fully his.

Images began to form, memories he hadn't accessed in years—decades. Kazuki wasn't just standing before him anymore. He was narrating, quietly and precisely, guiding Vareon's thoughts into the depths of his own past.

And Vareon—he couldn't stop it.

He was seeing again. Feeling again.

[Memory: The United Kingdom of Ryehem – Classroom Scene Continued]

Fifth grade. That same old classroom. The sun through the windows. Shang grinning as Vareon explained a concept. Raizen scolding them with self-righteous pride.

Everything exactly as it had been.

But then, Shang's eyes shifted. His usual enthusiasm dimmed for a second as he noticed someone sitting silently across the room.

Darius.

Always quiet. Always alone.

Shang leaned slightly toward Vareon and whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the murmurs of the classroom:

"That kid... Darius, right? He's always like that. Ever since he came here."

Vareon's smile faded slightly. He followed Shang's gaze, staring at the boy in the back row—his head bowed, hands folded neatly, eyes distant.

And for the first time in years... Vareon remembered.

[Memory within a Memory: Darius's Past]

The scene shifted again, deeper still. Kazuki's voice had become the thread stitching together fractured memories.

Darius's childhood.

It was raining.

A young boy—barefoot, bruised, and clutching a small wooden dagger—stood in the shadow of a burning house. Around him, murmurs swirled.

"That's the adopted one…""He was there when the duke died.""Isn't he from that clan?"

The noble who had taken Darius in—a high-ranking royal—had perished under mysterious circumstances. No one had seen the assassin. No clues remained.

But suspicion had a face.

Darius.

And the truth? It was even darker than the rumors.

Darius was born of a forbidden clan—one trained in the shadows, where words were poison and blades spoke louder than justice. He had grown up with them until the royal's mercy gave him a new home.

But mercy couldn't erase bloodlines.

Though legally adopted, Darius was always seen as an intruder in noble circles. The whispers never stopped. The blame never faded. And so, he stayed quiet. Watching. Listening. Learning.

And training.

The blade he carved from wood as a child was no toy—it was a symbol. A reminder.

[Shift Back to the Classroom – Vareon's Perspective]

Vareon blinked. He was back in the classroom again. Shang beside him. Raizen annoyed. Darius in the back, his silence louder than anyone's voice.

In the present, Vareon knew now. He remembered every detail Kazuki had unearthed, every layer peeled back by his manipulative narration.

His lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak.

He couldn't.

He was still under Kazuki's influence—not just seeing the past, but reliving it as Kazuki controlled the flow of memory like a puppeteer pulling at buried strings.

And the most dangerous part?

Kazuki knew exactly what he was doing.