Chapter Four The Path He Chose
Three years passed like scars forming.
Slow. Painful. Permanent.
Kaito Ren was no longer a starving child hiding under bridges.
He was sixteen now.
His body had changed first.
The forest had carved him lean. Garrick's training had carved him harder. His shoulders were broad, his movements controlled. Muscle wrapped tight around bone, earned the ugly way. No magic glow. No borrowed strength.
Just work.
Just pain.
Just survival.
Garrick watched him one morning as Kaito finished training.
The boy removed his shirt to wipe sweat from his face.
Muscle shifted under scarred skin. Abs defined, not for show, but because nothing else had been allowed to remain soft.
Garrick looked away.
Too familiar, he thought.
"I told you to rest today," Garrick muttered.
Kaito shrugged. "Rest gets you killed."
That hit deeper than it should have.
Garrick poured himself a drink with shaking hands.
That's what I used to say.
Lira noticed that day.
She'd come out to scold them both. To complain about bruises and broken furniture and Garrick's drinking.
She stopped mid-sentence.
Kaito stood there, sunlight cutting across him, sweat running down his chest.
Her breath caught before she could stop it.
When did he…
He turned, noticed her staring.
Their eyes met.
Silence stretched, sharp and unfamiliar.
Lira looked away first, cheeks warm. "Put a shirt on. This isn't a training ground."
Kaito blinked.
"Oh. Sorry."
He pulled it on quickly, but something had shifted.
He felt it.
So did she.
That night, Garrick drank more than usual.
Kaito sat across from him, sharpening his blade.
"Why'd you quit?" Kaito asked quietly.
Garrick laughed once. Hollow. "Didn't."
The blade paused.
"I froze," Garrick continued. "Mission went bad. Kid like you was there. Younger."
He stared into his cup.
"I hesitated. He didn't come home."
Silence filled the room.
"I told myself I was tired. Told myself I was done." Garrick swallowed. "Truth is, I ran."
Kaito spoke without looking up. "You stayed this time."
Garrick flinched.
"…Yeah."
The choice came the next morning.
A Guild recruiter stood outside the building, eyes sharp.
"That boy," he said, nodding toward Kaito. "People are talking."
"Let them," Garrick snapped.
"They say he survived death. That he killed a man." The recruiter smiled thinly. "That kind of reputation can be useful."
Kaito stepped forward.
"I don't want to be useful," he said.
Both men looked at him.
"I want to be strong enough that no one ever decides my life again."
Silence.
The recruiter scoffed and left.
Garrick watched Kaito carefully.
"You choosing this path," he said, "means no turning back."
Kaito nodded. "I already crossed that line."
Later, as dusk settled, Kaito approached Lira.
"You teach magic," he said. "Let me teach you something too."
She frowned. "I don't need—"
"Swords," he said. "If the world's cruel to the weak, then I won't let it be cruel to you."
That stopped her.
She studied him. Not the boy anymore.
The man he was becoming.
"…Fine," she said. "But if I'm doing this, you'll stop treating me like glass."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Deal."
As he adjusted her stance, his hands steady on her arms, tension coiled between them. Not rushed. Not spoken.
Earned.
Lira's heart beat faster than she wanted.
He doesn't rely on magic, she realized. He relies on himself.
And that frightened her more than any spell.
That night, alone, Kaito checked the System.
Path Confirmed: Soldier.Identity Stabilizing.Objective Updated: Stand. Then Advance.
Kaito closed his eyes.
Revenge no longer felt like fire.
It felt like direction.
Somewhere far away, silver blood stirred.
And bound in chains, a goddess watched with growing interest.
"He's choosing," she murmured. "Good."
Because chosen paths could still be broken.