---
The world did not return to kindness after Yami Sukehiro offered his hand.
It returned to cruelty—but this time, cruelty with purpose.
Kael gripped the swordsman's calloused palm.
Yami pulled him to his feet with a force that rattled Kael's brittle bones, nearly yanking his shoulder out of its socket.
Kael barely stayed upright, darkness swirling at the edge of his vision.
The blood running down his body was cold now.
Dead blood.
He knew he should collapse again.
But under Yami's stare—sharp as a blade, heavy as a mountain—Kael understood something deep in his shattered marrow:
Fall now, and die.
He stayed standing.
Even if the earth buckled under him.
Even if every nerve begged for mercy.
Because mercy didn't exist anymore.
And because this man would not offer it.
---
"You got two choices, kid," Yami said, voice flat.
"Walk, or rot."
Kael's throat was too torn to answer.
He just staggered forward.
Good.
No questions.
No tears.
Yami crushed the half-smoked cigarette under his boot and turned away, not checking if Kael could keep pace.
It was not kindness.
It was faithless expectation.
Follow, or be left behind.
Kael followed.
Dragged one broken step after another through the desolation.
The sun never rose.
The ash never stopped falling.
The Grand Magic Zone howled and tore at them—but none of it touched Yami.
The world seemed to shrink away from him, like even the monsters knew not to test his patience.
Kael could barely think.
Only walk.
Breathe.
Bleed.
Survive.
---
They reached the ruins by what must have been midnight—though no stars marked the sky.
It had once been a fortress: jagged stones, half-swallowed by the earth, reeking of old magic and older death.
Yami pushed open a shattered door with his boot.
Inside, only darkness.
Kael hesitated a breath.
Then entered.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Total blackness swallowed him.
And then:
Pain.
---
Yami didn't warn him.
Didn't explain.
A fist—heavy as a hammer—smashed into Kael's ribs, lifting him off his feet.
Kael crashed into the wall with a crack that shook loose ancient dust.
No spells.
No swords.
Just raw, brute assault.
Kael gasped, trying to force air into his collapsed lung.
Yami's voice drifted from the dark:
"Lesson one," he said, voice lazy.
"No one's gonna wait for you to get ready."
Another blow.
This time a kick to the stomach, folding Kael in half.
He vomited blood onto the cracked stones.
Yami kept speaking, casual, like discussing the weather:
"Lesson two. Pain's a teacher. Either you learn quick, or you don't live long enough to be stupid again."
Kael crawled, nails scraping stone.
The third hit came—a backhand that shattered his nose and sent stars bursting behind his eyes.
Still, Kael did not scream.
He did not beg.
He learned.
He moved.
The fourth blow missed.
Kael rolled.
Clumsy.
Pathetic.
But moving.
Learning.
Yami laughed, low and rough.
"Not bad," he said.
"Maybe you ain't a complete waste."
---
The beatings lasted for hours.
No magic allowed.
Only fists, boots, stone, and bone.
Kael's world narrowed to instinct: duck, flinch, twist, counter.
He broke a finger parrying a punch.
He cracked his hip avoiding a kick.
But he stayed on his feet.
Longer each time.
Bleeding more.
Hurting more.
Living more.
---
When dawn—or what passed for dawn—finally cracked the ash-thick sky, Yami lit another cigarette.
Kael lay on the floor, ribs grinding together with every breath, one eye swollen shut.
Yami stood over him, smoke curling around his rough face.
He kicked Kael lightly in the side—not cruel, not gentle.
"Get up," he said.
Kael gritted blood between his teeth.
He rose.
Slow.
Broken.
But he rose.
Yami smiled faintly.
It was not approval.
It was recognition.
"You'll do," he said.
Then he tossed something at Kael's feet.
A sword.
Not a pretty one.
Rust bit the blade's edge. The hilt was cracked, the leather peeling away.
But it was heavy.
Real.
A weapon.
Kael stared at it.
Yami's voice sharpened:
"Pick it up."
Kael did.
With his good hand.
The blade weighed more than his arm wanted to admit.
Yami drew his own sword—a slab of black steel that oozed magic like a bleeding wound.
The air thickened.
The ground trembled.
Kael barely had time to lift the blade before Yami moved.
---
The second lesson was worse.
Because now Kael had to fight back.
No more crawling.
No more surviving.
Now he had to choose: die on his knees, or die on his feet.
And dying was certain.
Because Yami wasn't holding back.
Their swords clashed—if it could be called that.
Yami's strikes shattered the air itself.
Every blow sent shockwaves through Kael's ruined body.
He blocked one—and his arms snapped at the elbow.
He dodged one—and the floor exploded under his feet, hurling him into the ceiling.
He countered one—and lost three fingers.
Blood slicked the sword's hilt, made it slippery.
Pain blurred his vision.
But he fought.
Because somewhere deep in the shredded ruins of his soul, Kael understood:
This was the only life the world would allow him.
Fight, bleed, suffer, or be erased.
There was no mercy coming.
Not from the Zone.
Not from fate.
Not even from Yami.
Especially not from Yami.
---
And slowly—
Inches at a time—
Kael began to change.
He stopped blocking.
He started redirecting.
Letting Yami's blows glance, slide, bleed power instead of absorbing it.
He stopped dodging with panic.
Started moving with intent.
Sacrificing a cut on his shoulder to land a shallow slice across Yami's thigh.
He stopped looking at the sword.
Started watching the man.
Reading his muscles.
His breath.
His shadow.
Not reacting.
Anticipating.
---
At sunset, Kael collapsed again.
This time, Yami didn't hit him.
Didn't tell him to rise.
Only stood over him, arms crossed, watching.
Kael tried to push himself up.
Failed.
Tried again.
Failed.
Yami let him.
Let him suffer.
Let him decide.
And when, after an eternity of agony, Kael finally staggered upright—
Sword in hand, eyes burning silver and violet—
Yami nodded once.
"You'll live," he said.
Kael didn't smile.
Couldn't.
There was nothing left inside him for joy.
Only survival.
And the silent, endless hunger for more.
---
Outside, the Grand Magic Zone howled.
Ash fell.
And in the heart of the ruins, two monsters stood facing each other.
One old.
One newly born.
And the world trembled.
---
Thank you for reading chapter ><.