Ryuuji never intended to kill the Count.
He had walked away from the manor in Southmark believing it was over. He had humiliated the man, scattered his guards like leaves, and shown the people of Southmark that fear should not come from titles, but from truth.
But pride is a dangerous thing.
And a desperate man with shattered pride? Even worse.
The first sign of the ambush was the unnatural silence. Ryuuji had just finished saying goodbye to an old merchant at the town gate when he felt the prickle of killing intent.
Too late.
The explosion shattered the side of the tavern.
"Jarred!" Ryuuji screamed, spinning mid-air as the blast flung him into the dirt road.
He rose, heart thundering. Through the smoke and fire, he saw Marla on the ground, coughing, shielding her belly. And just behind the splintered counter, blood.
Jarred lay unconscious—alive, but barely.
And in the center of it all, flanked by cloaked mercenaries and mages, was Count Velhane. His face was twisted, wild with hate.
"You think you can take my title, my ring, my dignity—and live?!" the Count shrieked. "You think you can shame me before my own men and walk away like some... saint?!"
Ryuuji didn't speak.
He didn't move.
The world seemed to slow around him, every heartbeat stretching into eternity.
"You hurt my friend," Ryuuji said at last, his voice low and ice-cold. "You endangered his wife. His unborn child."
"You have no right to interfere with the nobility!" Velhane screamed.
"I'm not interfering." Ryuuji's eyes narrowed. "I'm cleaning."
The moment the Count raised his hand to cast another spell, Ryuuji vanished in a blur.
There was no scream.
Only a thud. Wet. Final.
Velhane's body dropped to the stone in two pieces.
The mercenaries fled without a word.
Ryuuji stood still, crimson glinting on his boots. His breathing was even, as if the strike had taken no effort at all.
But his eyes burned with sorrow.
He hadn't wanted this. But peace always demanded a price.
Ryuuji knelt beside Jarred, gently placing a hand on his chest. A soft white light flowed from his palm, slowly stabilizing the wounded man.
"Stay with me, old friend. You held out long enough."
Marla, tears in her eyes, whispered, "He... he didn't even scream."
"He was protecting you. Like always."
Ryuuji rose and stepped into the town square.
He raised the Count's signet ring high, and with his other hand, traced a vast, ancient rune into the air—a magic long forbidden, not for its danger, but for the truth it forced into the open.
Memory Echo.
A massive glowing circle expanded over the city like a second sun. Every citizen stopped in their tracks as glowing images began to appear in the sky—memories, played like scenes in a story.
The Count's abuse of power. His manipulations. His kidnapping of Marla. The false reports. The bribes. The cruelty.
And then Ryuuji's own voice, projected from his soul:
"I am Asahi Ryuuji. Once a farmer. Then a hero. I killed the Demon Lord and his four generals not for glory, but to give this world a future. I never asked for your praise. Only your peace.
And now I speak to every noble, every official, every ruler who lives fat off the backs of the people—
I am alive.
If you dare repeat the sins of Velhane, remember this:
I was not just the demon killer. I was the one demons feared to whisper of."
The circle pulsed one final time and burst into a quiet shimmer of light.
Far away, across the sea, in gilded towers and fortress-kept courts, the spell was seen. And remembered.
Ryuuji lowered his hand, the city utterly silent.
He walked back to the tavern, where Jarred was finally stirring awake with Marla holding his hand.
Ryuuji knelt beside them, quieter now. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him before he did this."
Jarred coughed. "You stopped him. That's what matters."
"You did more than just save us," Marla added softly. "You saved Southmark."
Ryuuji looked between them, heart heavy, and then smiled gently.
"I'm heading home soon," he said. "But… I don't want to leave you two here. This city might recover, but it'll never be the same. And you shouldn't raise a child where memories hurt."
Jarred blinked. "You mean…"
"I'm building something. A village. A real one. Quiet. Safe. Surrounded by nature. People who want to live, not fight. Kiko would love to have you around."
Jarred looked at Marla, and she nodded before he even asked.
"You sure it's okay?" he said.
Ryuuji grinned. "You're family. Of course it's okay."
Jarred smiled weakly. "Then yeah. Let's go home."
Ryuuji reached out and helped his friend to his feet. The moment their hands met, Jarred pulled him into a quick, tight hug.
"Thanks... for coming back."
Ryuuji patted his back. "Always."
As they prepared to leave, Ryuuji looked once more toward the ruined noble manor. His heart was calm now.
The world hadn't changed.
But he had.
And maybe, just maybe, his presence could make it a little better.