Chapter 33: You can see the Pain in His Dih
The streets of Argenia were alive with the usual bustle of merchants calling out deals, carts rolling by, and the scent of freshly baked bread drifting through the air. Phyro, Klein, and Nico walked side by side, weaving through the crowd as they gathered supplies for the week.
Nico clutched a small bag of sweets, her excitement clear. "I bet Mom's going to scold me for eating these before dinner," she giggled, her golden eyes shining as she peeked at her brothers.
Klein smirked. "Then don't get caught."
Phyro chuckled, shaking his head. The day felt so normal, so peaceful. It was supposed to be a good day. Tomorrow, they would train together—his father would oversee their swordplay, his mother would watch over Nico's progress, and maybe, just maybe, Phyro would finally get a sparring match against Kaien where he wouldn't lose outright.
The thought warmed him.
The ride back home was uneventful.
Phyro, Klein, and Nico sat in the carriage, the gentle rocking almost lulling Nico to sleep. She leaned against Phyro's arm, her small hands clutching the bag of sweets she had bought from the market.
Klein sat across from them, arms crossed, eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping—he never did in unfamiliar places—but he seemed at ease.
The driver, an older man they didn't recognize, had been quiet the whole ride. That wasn't unusual. Their family had multiple carriage drivers, and the roads to their home weren't particularly dangerous.
But then, something… odd happened.
The carriage slowed down.
Then, it stopped.
Phyro blinked, sitting up straighter. They weren't at the mansion yet—it was still a bit further down the road. Usually, the driver would take them right to the gates, but this time…
"We've arrived," the driver said simply, his voice flat.
Klein's eyes flicked open, sharp and calculating. "This isn't our stop."
The driver didn't respond.
Instead, he simply adjusted his hat and gave them a small, unreadable smile. "You'll have to walk the rest of the way."
Phyro frowned. Weird. But he didn't feel like arguing. It wasn't that far, and he figured maybe the roads ahead were in bad condition.
Klein, however, stared at the man for a moment longer.
Then, without a word, he stepped out first.
Phyro followed, pulling Nico along. The moment their feet touched the ground, the driver turned the carriage around without another word and rode off—quicker than expected.
That… was strange.
Klein narrowed his eyes at the retreating figure but didn't say anything.
"Guess we're walking," Phyro muttered, stretching his arms.
Nico groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I liked the carriage better…"
They started down the road, their home just a short walk away.
Phyro didn't think too much about it at the time.
He would later wish he had.
Nearing there home Phyro felt
A deep, sickening feeling twist into his gut.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
The air… felt wrong.
Klein stopped walking, his smile fading. "Phyro…"
Nico, oblivious, kept skipping ahead, happily humming—until she saw it.
Their home.
Or what was left of it.
The Nishiki mansion—a sturdy yet modest home compared to other noble estates—was reduced to rubble. The front gates were twisted metal, the walls crumbled like dried leaves, and smoke still lingered in the air, carrying the scent of burned wood… and something worse.
A void of silence swallowed them whole.
Phyro's feet wouldn't move. His mind couldn't process what he was seeing.
No… this wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
Nico dropped her bag of sweets.
The bright candies spilled onto the dirt road, forgotten.
Her body refused to move. Her face went pale, her hands trembling violently, but she made no sound. She was frozen, standing like a lifeless statue. The only sign of life in her was the steady stream of tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping onto the dust-covered ground.
"…No…" Phyro whispered. His legs finally moved, stumbling toward the wreckage, praying, begging that someone—anyone—was still alive.
But then he saw them.
Kaien Nishiki Ayaka Nishiki Mei The servants.
They weren't just dead.
They were destroyed.
Some bodies were crushed beyond recognition, buried under debris. Others lay twisted unnaturally, their limbs bent at impossible angles. His mother—she still clutched her staff, as if she had died fighting, her once warm eyes now empty.
His father…
Kaien's body was mutilated, cut deep, his once unbreakable strength now nothing but a lifeless husk.
No. No. No.
Phyro's breathing grew ragged, his chest aching, his stomach twisting.
He fell to his knees, staring blankly at them, his fingers digging into the dirt.
This wasn't happening.
This was a dream.
A nightmare.
He could fix this.
HE COULD FIX THIS.
His hands trembled as he called upon the Editor.
[Override.]
Golden light erupted from his fingertips.
The wounds on his parents' bodies sealed shut. The crushed servants were restored to how they were before death. The devastation around them reversed, brick by brick, bloodstain by bloodstain.
He kept going.
Every ounce of his energy—his mana, his will—he POURED into the system's power.
Even as his body screamed at him.
Even as his vision blurred.
He forced it to work.
But then… the Editor stopped.
And nothing happened.
Their bodies were whole. Their injuries were gone.
But their souls…
Had already moved on.
Phyro gasped, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"No, no, no, no—"
He grabbed his father's now perfectly restored hand. It was warm. But it didn't move.
He placed his ear against his mother's chest. It was whole. But there was no heartbeat.
No matter how much he fixed their bodies…
They weren't coming back.
A sharp pain—one deeper than any wound he had ever felt—pierced through his very soul.
And then…
He screamed.
A scream so raw, so filled with agony, it didn't sound human.
He grabbed his father's lifeless form, shaking him, begging, pleading for him to wake up. His shoulders trembled violently as tears fell freely from his wide, desperate eyes.
"PLEASE—" Phyro choked. "I-I fixed everything! I—YOU CAN WAKE UP NOW!"
But there was no response.
His mother didn't scold him for being reckless.
Mei didn't tell him to compose himself.
The knights didn't move to comfort him.
He was alone.
Completely, utterly alone.
Behind him, Nico broke.
She fell to the ground, her tiny frame shaking uncontrollably. "Mama… Papa…" Her voice was a whisper, cracking with pain.
Then, she sobbed.
A wail of grief so devastating, so deep, that it made the air itself feel heavy.
She clutched her mother's lifeless hand, her body rocking back and forth. The once lively, mischievous little girl shattered before their eyes.
Klein stood frozen. His calm demeanor crumbled as he clenched his fists so hard that his nails drew blood. His jaw was tight, his breath shaking—until finally, silent tears spilled down his face.
For the first time in years, Klein Nishiki cried.
Phyro's body refused to move. His throat burned from screaming. His mind refused to accept it.
They were supposed to train tomorrow.
They were supposed to laugh at breakfast, spar in the courtyard, and go about their normal day.
But now…
There was nothing left.
Nico's sobs turned weaker, her body drained from grief until she finally collapsed, unconscious.
Phyro sat there, his hands gripping his father's lifeless form, his soul hollow.
And then, through the unbearable pain, through the endless agony, a new feeling emerged.
Hate.
Who. Did. This?
Phyro's body trembled as his sorrow twisted into something darker. His hands clenched into fists. His breath turned slow. Controlled.
Klein, still shaking, slowly lifted his gaze to him.
"…Whoever did this…" Klein's voice was a whisper, sharp as a dagger.
Phyro's eyes, filled with fury, locked onto his brother's.
"We will find them," Klein continued. His voice no longer shaking.
"And we will make them pay."
End of Chapter