Chapter 37: Reunions of the Past
The lounge was calm and warm, tucked deep within the sect's inner sanctum. A perfect place to relax, or so it seemed. Soft music drifted from the open balcony, mingling with the faint scent of incense and spirit-infused tea. Lanterns cast a golden glow across velvet cushions and polished tables.
Elton sat near the window with Zoro to his right and Cedric on his left. Across from them were three familiar friends: Kaien, the broad-shouldered hammer user with his ever-loud laugh; Duke, the quiet but sharp-witted blade user; and Lyliah, the spirited flame mage with a teasing smile. They chatted quietly, enjoying the rare peace between missions.
All eyes, however, soon turned toward the two new arrivals.
"I'm Ramiro León!" the brown-haired boy announced with infectious excitement, practically bouncing in his seat. "Two years have passed and I finally ran into you again! Elton, remember me? The merchant escort mission? Thornbranch City?"
Elton's brows rose as memory surfaced, then he smirked. "You mean the kid who nearly got himself roasted by that fire-toothed warhound?"
Ramiro laughed nervously. "Heh… yeah, that one."
Kaien burst into laughter. "You're lucky to be alive!"
Ramiro puffed his chest proudly. "And better than ever! I've been training with my family's spear arts. Father sent me here to sharpen my skills and forge connections. Nobles can raise warriors without the sects, sure, but the pressure and polish here are different. Here, you grow faster… or you die."
Cedric leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "León… South Brawlmanica, right? Your family's respected, but on the lower rung of nobility. If they sent you here, something must be shifting."
Ramiro's grin faltered. He nodded once. "Brawlmanica's balance is crumbling. Power struggles everywhere. My father saw the storm coming."
The mood dipped for a moment before Elton's gaze shifted to the quiet girl seated beside Ramiro.
She had remained silent until now, her violet-and-white mage robes faintly shimmering beneath the lantern glow. Her features were delicate, though the rune etched along her cheek marked her noble heritage. Her eyes, however, never left Elton. They shimmered with unshed tears.
"…Elton?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You are Big Cousin Elton?"
The room stilled.
Elton froze in place, her words cutting deeper than any blade. Buried memories stirred. He stared back, caught between disbelief and recognition.
"Erica?" he asked at last.
She nodded, lips quivering. "Erica Soloman… of the Soloman family. I… I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
Cedric's head jerked toward her, startled. "Wait. Soloman? As in that Soloman family?"
Erica said nothing, but her name alone had already unsettled the room.
Cedric's voice lowered, reflective. "My family's records mention them. The Soloman line appeared in Brawlmanica more than a century ago. Never titled nobles, but always present. Scholars say they shaped battles from the shadows. Never proven, but…"
Kaien whistled. "So you're one of those quiet giants, huh?"
Erica kept her gaze locked on Elton.
Cedric added, almost to himself, "The upper circles still respect them. They've produced geniuses, scholars, even tacticians… always keeping out of sight."
Elton's face stayed unreadable, but inside, his chest burned. When the war swept through, certain families had the means to act. Yet they stayed silent. Entire branches burned away, abandoned to die without a word of aid. That wound still festered. Seeing Erica now—innocent, emotional, and unaware—pulled the old bitterness into the light. His anger was not for her. It was for them.
Erica's tears finally spilled. "I thought you were gone, Elton. When your branch was attacked and your parents—"
She broke off, biting her lip.
For a long moment, Elton's hands tightened at his sides. The weight of memories pressed hard. But then he exhaled and moved. He walked across the room, his steps steady. Erica tensed, uncertain.
He pulled her gently into a hug.
"I'm glad you're safe too, Erri," he whispered. His smile held warmth, but behind it, pain smoldered like banked fire.
Zoro crossed his arms, looking away. "Too soft."
Ramiro clapped his hands loudly, shattering the tension. "Alright! Enough gloom. Food's here!"
The servers entered with trays of spirit-roasted meats, steaming dumplings, and chilled fruit nectar.
Kaien's eyes lit up. "I love this sect already!"
Duke smirked, pulling a tray closer. "Not poisoned. Probably."
Lyliah laughed. "Give it ten minutes. We'll see who keels over first."
Cedric chuckled. "We've earned this. Let's eat."
Laughter returned, soft but real. For now, the past could wait.
The doors creaked again.
Two figures entered, their presence chilling the room. A boy and girl no older than twelve stepped through, their movements precise, their gazes sharp.
Zoro rose half from his seat, hand resting on his katana. His voice dropped into a growl. "It's you…"
The twins stopped and stared back at him, the tension thick as drawn steel.
Before it broke, Elton stepped forward with calm authority, raising a hand. "Easy. We're all under the same roof. Speak your business."
Ramiro leaned close to Cedric, whispering quickly. "Those two… they made a scene at a recruitment near Brawlmanica's border. Almost shut down the whole thing. Real dangerous types."
The boy gave a shallow bow. "Forgive us. I am Kageha and this is my younger twin sister, Kuroha. We didn't mean to intrude."
Kuroha glared at Zoro but looked away after Kageha sighed.
Zoro released a surge of aura, heavy and suffocating. Silver Tier 3 Ki pressed down like a storm. The twins faltered, their own Silver Tier 1 essence flickering against his dominance.
"Why are you here?" Zoro demanded coldly.
Kageha met his glare with a faint smile. "You've grown fast. If certain people knew, they'd be uneasy."
Zoro's eyes sharpened further. "Answer."
Elton's hand rested lightly on Zoro's shoulder. "Not now. Let them speak."
Kuroha bristled until Erica's voice cut softly through the air. "If Elton tells you to speak, then speak."
Kuroha froze with a slight shudder, glancing at Kageha. He nodded and continued. "We were sent to observe him. Some want him captured with the possibility of Elimination if necessary. But we owe him. We won't harm him."
The room fell into silence.
Finally, Elton nodded once. "The world is shifting. Maybe we'll understand each other better in time."
The mood loosened, if only slightly. The feast continued, laughter creeping back. Yet Kuroha's eyes never left Zoro.
Later, as the group dispersed, Zoro and Elton walked together.
"Keep your guard up," Zoro said. "Smiles like theirs usually hide blades."
Elton chuckled softly. "I trust you with my life, Zoro. Strangely enough… I feel something about them similar to you. Guarded, scarred, but maybe not enemies."
Zoro smirked faintly. "You're crazy."
When they reached Elton's quarters, someone was waiting. A young woman sat calmly on the chair outside, her presence quiet but firm.
Zoro raised a brow. "I'll give you two some privacy."
"Oi—Zoro!" Elton protested, flushing, but his friend was already gone.
Erica rose, smiling softly. "Evening, El-Onyem."
He scratched his head nervously. "Evening, Erri."
Together, they stepped inside.
Authors note:
Onyem comes from the Igbo language, a major ethnic group in Nigeria. It is a contracted form of "ónyé m" which directly translates to "my person" or "my friend." In a romantic context, it can also be used to mean "my lover" or "my dear one".