Dark Clouds
Whoosh—
The raindrops that had been falling one by one now turned into a downpour, pelting hard against his bag.
The farther the Academy’s massive iron gates receded behind him, the more Lorraine’s desperate cries faded into the rain until they could no longer reach his ears.
“…….”
He swallowed the metallic tang of blood swirling in his mouth, uncaring even if his lips split open, and swept his soaked hair back from his face.
Zeke…please, please don’t do this…
A corner of his chest throbbed as if a blade had carved it out, yet he refused to dig deeper into the source of the pain. He refused to think about it at all.
Don’t leave like this…don’t leave me behind…
The memories of death and betrayal at the hands of the friend he had trusted with everything still lingered like an indelible scar—far too vivid for him to be swayed by her tears.
So.
…This was the right choice.
He repeated it to himself again and again. He had to, like a hypnotic mantra, just to keep his heart from wavering.
I’ll fix this somehow. Even if I have to beg Father, even if I have to stake everything and stand as guarantor myself—I’ll get your punishment cancelled…!
If he had stayed at the Academy under her protection, with her family’s guarantee, things would have been easier for now. He would have been safely shielded from the Borzi family’s pressure as well.
No matter how thoroughly he had crushed that vermin Kaiden, they weren’t stupid enough to wage open war against the Justain family over some mere collateral branch member.
“…….”
But that would have been nothing more than a repeat of his previous life.
If he failed to find and resolve the root cause, he would only meet the same miserable end—his head severed once again.
It was all my fault. So…please? Don’t leave like this…
Hadn’t he sworn to live this life differently?
Hadn’t he seized the hidden opportunity not merely to become someone’s helper, but to shatter the coming ruin with his own hands?
Zeke! Zeke! No, don’t go! Please…!
Hadn’t he walked away even as he shook off her clinging hands—her weeping, her desperately sorrowful face that she had never once shown him before, as if she were coughing up blood?
Crack.
…This was the right choice.
His fists clenched so tightly the nails bit into flesh and tore the skin, blood welling and dripping down.
“…….”
…Waaaaaah…!
He clawed at his hair in a frenzy. The bloodied hands, already scraped raw, smeared crimson across his face.
It hurt. It was agony. But that was good.
He wanted to forget reality, even if only through pain.
…It must have been the right choice.
His stomach churned.
“…Hm?”
How long had he walked, taking the full brunt of the pouring rain?
As he continued along the paved road, a carriage waiting in an open lot finally came into view.
“Oh my! Student! You’ll catch a cold standing out in the rain like that!”
He watched the driver come scrambling toward him. Already soaked to the bone, he must have looked every bit the drowned rat.
“…Are you free?”
“Eh? A customer, then! Of course I’m free. Where to?”
“…Northern Imperial Capital. Grey Street.”
“Northern Capital…Grey Street?”
“…Is that a problem?”
“Ah—heavens no! Climb right in!”
The driver made a brief, uneasy face at the destination, but quickly nodded. He must have decided that losing this fare meant endless waiting in the rain again.
Zeke shoved his dripping luggage bag inside the carriage, then climbed in after it.
The interior was far roomier and more comfortable than it looked from outside. Plush velvet seats, and the cabin seemed magically climate-controlled—pleasantly warm.
“Right, we’re off! Hold on tight!”
The door had barely shut before the driver’s voice rang out and the whip cracked.
Neigh!
With a horse’s cry, the carriage began to roll smoothly forward.
“…….”
The Northern Imperial Capital. On the surface it looked like one of the Empire’s thriving hubs, yet beneath that façade lurked a lawless zone rife with every kind of crime and illicit dealing.
Feeling the jolt of the moving carriage, he pulled his notebook from the bag.
Near the bottom of the page—well above the line that held Lorraine’s name—he pressed the tip of his pen firmly against the entry.
Northern Imperial Capital, the Hidden Workshop in Grey Street.
There was a reason he had to go there first—before ever setting foot near the Borzi family.
Rattle. Rattle.
After hours of rough travel, the sky over the capital was just as leaden and choked with dark clouds as the Academy’s had been.
He opened the carriage door and stepped down onto the damp, muddy earth. Rainwater mixed with the filth underfoot into a foul slurry.
“W-well then! Safe travels!”
The moment Zeke’s feet hit the ground, the driver whipped the horses in a panic and vanished.
Hardly surprising—this was the northern capital, notorious for its abysmal public order, and they had stopped at the very entrance to Grey Street, the most sinister district of all.
“…….”
A chilly wind brushed past his collar.
He pulled the hood of his coat low and started deeper into the dark alley.
Squelch. Squelch!
Every time his boots sank into the muck, unpleasant gazes clung to him from the shadows.
Like hyenas eyeing prey, filthy-looking vagrants lurked in every nook, watching him.
Can’t blame them.
A boyish figure in Academy uniform with only a black coat thrown over it must have looked like a perfect meal that had walked right into their jaws.
Sure enough, the moment he rounded a corner while aware of the shadows trailing him, rough-looking men in battered leather gear, rusty daggers in hand, blocked both ends of the alley.
“Hey, kid. Look like you’re lost.”
“Just leave the wallet and we’ll show you a safe way out. How’s that sound?”
“…Pretty face, though. Mind if we have a little fun before we let you go?”
“You sick bastard. Still getting hard for guys?”
The men flashed yellowed teeth, laughing at their own tasteless jokes.
Zeke simply watched them waste their lives like moths that didn’t know how precious time was.
In the past he would have been calculating ways to slip free of meaningless trouble like this.
“…….”
No—just listen to me this once…!
But wasting time like this only made Lorraine’s screaming face flicker behind his eyes until his head felt ready to split.
“I don’t have time to chat with maggots like you,”
“The hell?”
Surrounded by men glaring as if they would leap at him any second, he heard it again—
It was all my fault. So…please? Don’t leave like this…
—her wailing voice, ringing in his ears like a curse.
Lorraine’s hallucination, mixed with the rain, scraped against his frayed nerves.
To calm the swelling pressure inside his skull, he slowly drew mana up from his dantian.
Hummmm—!
The mana that had ballooned exponentially after absorbing the Mana Well surged electrifyingly through his entire body.
“…But if I can vent this boiling rage on the likes of you, I suppose I don’t mind.”
Shing.
“What’s he mumbling about by himself?”
“Guy’s not right in the head—just kill him and take it!”
The cold edge of a dagger glinted faintly through the rain.
The men charged as one, murderous intent thick in the air.
It was all my fault. So…
If he could just crush that voice circling his mind—
Don’t leave like this…
—if he could just shake off the thirst crushing his chest, any means would do.
“Don’t let the bastard ru—!”
Before the man who looked like their leader could finish, Zeke’s figure blurred and vanished beyond the sheets of rain.
“Wh-what?!”
They hadn’t even finished widening their eyes in disbelief at his sudden disappearance.
Crunch!
The jaw of the man who had first made the filthy joke snapped at a grotesque angle and shot skyward. He hung in the air without even managing a scream before slamming face-first into the mud.
“You little—!”
“Kill him!”
The nearest man lunged, crude dagger aimed at Zeke’s heart. The trajectory was clumsy, the kind that belonged to someone who had never actually killed.
Zeke didn’t even bother drawing a blade.
He twisted his torso, letting the dagger whistle past, and seized the man’s wrist in the same motion.
Crack-crack-crack!
“G-gyaaaaaaaaah!”
A sickening sound of twisting bone tore through the rain. The dagger dropped from the limp, dangling hand.
The others swung clubs and daggers wildly, but to Zeke their movements looked slower than crawling grubs.
This was the realm of a vessel forcibly expanded by absorbing the Mana Well.
His body had not yet fully matured to match that past peak, yet the combat instincts carved into his soul and the overflowing mana granted him power of an entirely different class against mere street trash.
Thud!
“Guh…!”
A mana-charged fist slammed precisely into another man’s solar plexus. The man crumpled into the rain-filled mud without a scream.
“H-hiiik…! M-monster!”
As more bodies writhed on the ground, the remaining men finally grasped the situation and stumbled backward in terror.
It made no difference. His blood-smeared hands refused to stop.
Zeke…please, please don’t do this…
To erase her screaming voice from his mind, he focused only on the violence before him and swung his fists.
Thud! Crack!
“Khak!”
“Spare me, spare—!”
It was a one-sided massacre.
Within minutes the alley that had been filled with breathing and mockery was filled only with screams.
Drip. Drip-drip.
Falling rain washed the vagrants’ blood from the backs of his hands.
Men with broken bones and shattered teeth moaned and rolled on the ground. Among them, some no longer moved at all—whether dead or simply unconscious.
“Haa.”
He drew a long, deep breath.
The cold night air sank deep into his lungs, and the boiling inside his head quieted, if only a little.
“…….”
Yet the hollow emptiness left in one corner of his chest remained unchanged.
Without so much as a glance at the bleeding men sprawled around him, he set off once more toward his destination.