The thick smoke was still roiling, and the air reeked of burning.
Jayne stood amid the ruins of the square, glaring fiercely at a man not far away.
The man stood at the front of the Order of Holy Knights, perfectly at ease, as though he were directing the most ordinary training exercise. Judging by his position and the way the others treated him, he was likely the captain of the squad.
Jayne's hands were trembling.
Not from fear.
From rage.
“Why...” Jayne forced the words from his throat, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “Why did you attack our village?”
The captain gave him a cold glance, as if he were nothing more than a bug in his way.
“Our mission is to capture those two,” he said in a tone as flat as if he were commenting on the weather. “The villagers' lives and deaths have nothing to do with us. If you don't want to get dragged into this, step back now. It's not too late.”
Jayne clenched his fists.
“You're Holy Knights!” His voice rose even louder. “Is the mission all you care about? What about your honor? What about your pride?”
At that, the captain's lips curled slightly into a contemptuous smile.
“Honor? Pride?” He sounded as though he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. “What can those things get you? Fame? Battle merits? Or some laughable sympathy?”
He paused and swept his gaze over the village behind Jayne, his tone turning even colder.
“Don't be naïve, kid. What does it matter if a few more villagers from some remote place like yours die? Failing the mission—that's the real disgrace.”
Jayne's eyes widened.
Something seemed to be burning in his chest. All the scenes he'd imagined countless times since childhood—the brilliance, justice, and glory of the Order of Holy Knights—shattered into dust in that instant.
The man before him wore clothes embroidered with that crest, yet the words coming from his mouth were more cold-blooded than those of any monster.
“You...” Jayne ground his teeth, forcing the words through them. “You don't deserve to be called Holy Knights.”
His body moved before his mind did.
By the time he realized it, his fist was already flying toward the captain's face.
The captain didn't even blink.
He caught Jayne's punch with ease, like an adult catching a ball thrown by a child, and the cold smile on his face deepened.
The next second, he seized Jayne by the collar, hoisted him into the air, and slammed him hard onto the ground.
“Cough!”
His back crashed against the stone pavement. Agony shot from his spine to his head, and all the air was crushed from his lungs. Jayne opened his mouth and desperately tried to breathe as his vision repeatedly went black.
But he still gritted his teeth and braced himself against the ground, trying to stand.
Just then,
the battlefield in the distance suddenly lit up.
A massive blaze surged over from the direction of the fighting, carrying a scorching wave of heat that swept across the entire square like a rising tide.
Jayne raised his head and saw the flames rushing straight toward him.
He couldn't move.
The fall had left his body completely drained of strength. His legs felt as heavy as lead, and the flames drew closer and closer, their heat already searing his face. There was only one thought left in Jayne's mind:
I'm done for.
Then a figure came rushing over.
The person shoved Jayne away with all their strength, but they themselves plunged straight into the flames.
Jayne was sent flying. He rolled several times across the ground before finally coming to a stop. His chest throbbed with pain, his ears rang, and everything before his eyes had gone blurry.
But he could still make out who had rushed over.
“Uncle!”
Jayne's cry tore through the air.
He struggled to his feet and staggered toward Reese. Every step felt like he was walking on cotton, his legs trembling nonstop, but he ran with everything he had.
Then he saw clearly.
Reese was lying on the ground.
His clothes had been burned black and torn to shreds. His skin was covered in horrifying burns, and thin wisps of white smoke still rose from some of them. His eyes were half-open, their light fading little by little.
But the way he looked at Jayne was still warm.
“Why...” Jayne collapsed to his knees beside Reese, tears streaming uncontrollably and splattering one by one onto Reese's charred clothes. “Why did you run over here...?”
Reese didn't answer.
He slowly raised a hand. It was trembling, and every inch of movement seemed to take all the strength in his body. He reached toward Jayne's face.
His rough fingertips gently brushed Jayne's cheek, wiping away the tears there.
Then he smiled.
It was the gentlest smile Jayne had ever seen.
“You foolish child...”
Reese's lips moved, his voice so faint it was almost inaudible.
“Because... you're my... child...”
His hand lingered beside Jayne's cheek for one second, then two.
Then it fell limply.
The last glimmer in his eyes went out as well.
Jayne froze.
His mouth hung open, but no sound came from his throat, as though something were blocking it and he couldn't force it out.
He lowered his head and stared at Reese's face.
The smile from moments ago still lingered there, peaceful as if he were asleep.
But Jayne knew he would never wake up again.
“...Ah.”
A barely audible sound, as if it had been squeezed from the deepest part of his body.
Then Jayne broke down.
He collapsed onto Reese and began to sob aloud. His cries were heart-wrenching, echoing over the burning village amid the crackle of the flames and the distant screams of the villagers.
He couldn't hear anything anymore.
He couldn't see anything anymore.
At that moment, the world lost all its color.
The captain watched the boy kneeling on the ground and wailing, his face utterly expressionless.
He drew the longsword from his waist and began murmuring an incantation. The blade started to glow, growing brighter and brighter until it radiated a blinding white light.
He raised the sword and aimed it at Jayne.
An unarmed boy wasn't even an obstacle to him. One sword stroke was all it would take to end this nuisance.
Just as the sword was about to descend on Jayne,
“Woooah!”
A powerful gust struck from the side like an invisible wall, blasting the captain back several steps. His feet dragged two deep lines across the ground before he finally managed to steady himself.
“What!?”
The captain whipped around toward the source of the wind.
Then his expression darkened.
On the other side of the square, the Holy Knights he'd brought lay scattered across the ground. Of the ten-man squad, only one was still standing—the knight who used Fire Elemental Magic, now facing off against the woman with the ponytail.
And the one who had created that howling gale was the boy who had kept his head lowered the entire time, barely making his presence felt.
Now he stood between Jayne and the captain, a smile on his lips that was completely at odds with his earlier silence.
“Such a fun game. Let me play, too.”
His tone was as casual as if he were saying, “Beautiful weather today,” but the wind pressure swirling in his palm carried an unmistakable threat.
The boy waved his hand again, and another blast of wind pressure bore down on the captain, forcing him to retreat once more.
The captain snorted and quickly surveyed the battlefield.
The situation had already turned against them.
He took a deep breath and shouted to the only companion still fighting:
“Ignatius! Use your strongest move!”
The Holy Knight named Ignatius heard the order and immediately broke away from his standoff with the woman. He leaped into the air, raised both hands over his head, and released all his mana in an instant.
The air grew scorching hot.
Dozens of burning fireballs appeared out of thin air in the sky, densely suspended overhead like a burning starfield.
[Fire Elemental Magic: Crimsonfire Rain]
The fireballs fell.
Like meteors trailing long tails of flame, they crashed down in every direction across the village. Some struck half-destroyed houses, while others slammed into open ground and exploded into craters. In an instant, Fran Village became a sea of fire.
One of them flew straight toward Jayne.
The woman with the ponytail saw it.
She clenched her teeth and took off running, trying to reach Jayne and block the fireball. At the same time, the boy controlling the wind thrust out a palm, attempting to alter the fireball's trajectory with wind pressure.
But...
“Damn it... We're too late...!”
Rare urgency colored the woman's voice.
The fireball struck the spot where Jayne stood with pinpoint accuracy.
The explosion was deafening. Thick black smoke swallowed everything in an instant, while the shock wave sent rubble and planks flying. Dust and smoke blocked everyone's view.
In the distance, Rhea's scream pierced through the smoke screen.
“Jayne!”
It was a desperate cry.
Everyone in the square focused their eyes on the cloud of black smoke—the captain, the woman, the boy, the fallen Holy Knights, and the villagers hiding behind the ruins. They all waited for the smoke to clear.
The wind blew through.
Little by little, it scattered the black smoke.
Then everyone saw him.
Jayne was standing there.
He was still standing.
There wasn't a mark on him. His clothes weren't burned, his skin wasn't scorched, and even his hair was undisturbed. He stood right at the center of the explosion, completely unharmed.
The captain's pupils contracted sharply.
The cold smile that had never left his lips from beginning to end froze completely. In its place was astonishment he hadn't even realized he felt.
“That's impossible...”
Jayne slowly raised his head.
His eyes had changed.
The angry, grieving, broken boy from moments ago was gone. In his place was a pair of calm, piercing eyes, as though something burned within them, yet they remained eerily tranquil.
Then his palm began to glow.
Flames sprang from his palm.
They weren't ordinary flames. They carried a strange radiance as they danced, spun, and spread across his hand like living things. Their light illuminated Jayne's face and his silver-gray hair.
In the distance, the woman with the ponytail froze at the sight.
“Could it be...” Her lips trembled slightly, and her voice was so quiet that only she could hear it. “Is he the person I've been looking for?”
Jayne fixed his gaze on the captain and walked toward him one step at a time. With each step, the flames in his palm burned brighter.
His stride was steady.
Steady in a way that didn't seem possible for a fifteen-year-old boy who had just lost his closest family.
“All of this...”
Jayne's voice wasn't loud, yet every person present heard it clearly.
“Ends now.”