Zatan watched the flood of people pouring into the area and took a slow, measured step back, his expression settling into cold satisfaction as he raised a hand and pointed directly at Ethan. "Kill him."

The newcomers hesitated at first, their eyes flickering with confusion as they tried to place Ethan’s face, but that uncertainty lasted only a heartbeat. Recognition didn’t matter. When Zatan gave an order, obedience followed. Back home, hesitation came with consequences none of them were willing to face.

"I’d like to see who dares."

Hayes stepped forward without a trace of hesitation, placing herself squarely between Ethan and the advancing group. Brock moved in beside her, then Vale, then Ginger, even Onyx, each one forming a protective wall. Riley lingered for just a second longer than the rest, her small frame tense, before she hurried forward too and planted herself in front of Ethan, trying to look braver than she felt.

Zatan’s square eyes narrowed, a sharp edge of suspicion cutting through them. "Hayes. Treason?" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Ethan stood still behind them, watching in silence, unsure what to make of what he was seeing. They were protecting him. It wasn’t necessary, not in the slightest, since he knew he could wipe out everyone here without breaking a sweat, yet that didn’t change the fact that they had chosen to stand in front of him, turning against their own people without hesitation.

The thought brushed his mind, faint but undeniable, carrying with it a flicker of warmth he hadn’t expected to feel.

"Don’t get the wrong idea," Riley whispered beside him, her voice low but clear. "Hayes isn’t protecting you."

Ethan glanced down at her, surprised. Ever since he had repaired her shattered mindscape, her psychic sensitivity had sharpened considerably, enough to catch even the smallest shift in his thoughts or expression. Riley met his gaze with a crooked grin. "She’s scared you’ll hurt her people."

Right on cue, Hayes spoke again, her tone steady but firm. "Zatan, you’re the young clan lord, not the clan lord. You don’t have the authority to command everyone here. And even if you did... you’re sending them to their deaths."

Riley’s reading wasn’t wrong, though it wasn’t entirely right either. Ethan rolled his eyes slightly, deciding not to dwell on it. Hayes did want to protect her people, that much was obvious, but she had still made a deliberate choice to stand against Zatan. Whatever her reasons, she had crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.

Zatan’s lips curled, his eyes glinting with something ugly. "Scaremongering. Look at him, he’s younger than me. How strong could he possibly be? I already wounded him."

He lifted his hand, still smeared with fresh blood.

Hayes and the others blinked, confusion flashing across their faces. The lie was blatant, so obvious it almost didn’t make sense to hear it spoken aloud.

Ethan’s gaze dropped to his chest. There, faint but visible, was a bloody palm print staining his shirt. The blood was real, but the injury wasn’t. He remembered the moment clearly. Zatan’s hand had touched him, but his own strike had landed faster, harder. If Hayes hadn’t intervened, Zatan would already be dead.

’So what was he playing at?’

"Zatan, you—" Hayes began, her expression tightening.

"Enough," Zatan snapped, cutting her off with a sharp flick of his hand. "Hayes and her group have betrayed the clan’s teachings by siding with an outsider. There’s no need to show mercy. Kill them. Otherwise..." His voice dropped, quieter but far more dangerous. "You know what happens when you return."

That final sentence sent a ripple through the crowd behind him. They didn’t actually believe Hayes had betrayed anything. Everyone here knew what Zatan was like. The accusation was just a convenient excuse. What truly mattered was the threat behind his words. Disobey him now, and they would suffer for it later. He was already destined to become the next clan lord, and every one of them had already experienced his cruelty in one form or another.

Hayes saw it clearly in their faces and realized she couldn’t stop what was coming. She turned sharply, panic breaking through her composure. "Ethan, please—"

A flash of cold light cut through the air before she could finish.

The crescent-shaped dagger was already descending toward her head, its arc precise and merciless. The attacker, a thin, wiry man, moved like a shadow at Zatan’s side, his expression empty of hesitation.

"Hayes!"

Shouts erupted behind her, but they came too late. The blade was already at her crown.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. The strike was fast, faster than he had expected, and even as he moved, he knew he might not make it in time.

Then came a dull, sickening sound, like leather splitting under strain.

For a split second, everything blurred. A figure appeared where Hayes had stood, shoving her aside with overwhelming force. She was sent flying back toward the others, her vision spinning, while the figure that replaced her steadied itself.

It was Ethan.

But the arm that had intercepted the blade wasn’t his.

Ethan turned immediately, catching the collapsing body beside him. "Swift Healing." A soft green glow spread over the jagged stump where the arm had been severed, sealing the wound as quickly as possible.

"Brock!"

Hayes and the others finally recognized him, their voices breaking in shock.

Ethan’s expression darkened as he held the large man upright. "You okay?"

In that instant when Ethan had moved, Brock had moved too, and when he did, space itself had rippled faintly around him. Ethan hadn’t expected that. The big man’s spatial ability had allowed him to act just a fraction faster, enough to intercept the attack and buy Ethan the moment he needed.

"N-no... it... hurts..." Brock managed weakly before his eyes rolled back and his body went limp.

The bleeding had been stopped, but the damage was severe. Losing an entire arm in a single strike had drained him rapidly, leaving him on the edge of collapse.

Across the field, the scrawny dagger-wielder retreated lightly, landing beside Zatan as if nothing had happened. "The kid’s strong," he sent through telepathy.

"You don’t say, old man," Zatan replied with biting sarcasm. "If he weren’t, how would he kill everyone here? Planning to do it yourself?"

The insult was sharp and deliberate. Despite looking younger, the scrawny man’s expression darkened. "Watch your mouth, brat. That’s your ancestor you’re talking to."

"Shut up," Zatan shot back, his tone filled with irritation. "If it weren’t for you, would I look like this? You’ve been scheming for years just to get back to the third layer."

The man’s eyes flickered, anger flashing briefly before he forced it down. No one else present understood the exchange. To them, he was just another member of the younger generation, but the truth was far more unsettling. He was an old monster inhabiting a borrowed body, and somehow, Zatan’s current form was tied to him. The details remained a mystery.

"Well?" Zatan barked aloud, turning his attention back to the others. "What are you waiting for?"

The group had been frozen by what they had just witnessed, but his voice snapped them out of it, replacing hesitation with dread. They all knew the scrawny man. He was Zatan’s favored enforcer, the one who handled punishment. No one forgot what he had done to Erwa. A single moment of hesitation had earned the poor boy a full day strapped to a chair while his feet were tickled relentlessly with a feather. By the end of it, Erwa had been reduced to something barely functional, his mind shattered beyond repair.

No one hesitated now.

Weapons were drawn. Fear drove them forward.

"Charge!"

They surged toward Ethan and the others.

"Don’t—!"

Hayes screamed again, but she didn’t even know who she was trying to stop anymore. Ethan, or her own people. It didn’t matter. No one listened.

Ethan’s gaze had already turned cold the moment Brock’s arm hit the ground.

He hadn’t known the man long, but that didn’t matter. Brock was loud, rough around the edges, but sharp in his own way, and he had treated Ethan like a friend without hesitation, even offering up his stash of local specialties with a grin.

And now, right in front of him, someone had severed his arm without a second thought. A slightly different angle, and it would have been his head instead.

The intent behind that strike had been absolute.

The people charging toward him now might just be following orders, but that didn’t excuse their choice.

"You want to die? Fine."

Ethan moved.

He met the first attacker head-on. An iron rod came swinging toward him, but Ethan drove his fist into it without slowing down. The metal snapped with a sharp crack, and his punch carried through, veering slightly off its original path before slamming into the man’s chest.

The impact exploded outward.

Bone shattered. Flesh gave way. A gaping hole tore through the man’s ribcage as Ethan flicked his arm aside, reducing the body to a spray of blood and torn fragments that scattered across the ground.

"It’s over..."

Hayes closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She understood what this meant. Their entire generation, everyone standing here, was about to be wiped out.

Ethan didn’t stop.

The others faltered after seeing the first man die so violently, but hesitation only sealed their fate. Ethan moved through them faster than their eyes could follow, leaving behind nothing but afterimages and destruction.

Blows landed with brutal precision. Bones cracked, bodies tore apart, screams overlapped until they blurred into a single, chaotic noise.

No one could block him. No one could endure even a single strike.

At one point, he seized two attackers by their arms and tore them apart in opposite directions, splitting their bodies cleanly down the middle as blood rained across the battlefield. Within moments, more than half of them were already dead.

Then, suddenly, a deep, resonant voice echoed inside his mind.

"Namo Amitabha."

Ethan’s body froze mid-motion, his blood-covered form going completely still.

No one else noticed, but just moments earlier, his eyes had been glowing faintly green. At the sound of that voice, the glow vanished as if it had never been there.

Ethan looked around slowly, his expression tightening as awareness returned in full.

He remembered the first strike, the one meant to intimidate. After that, everything blurred. Somewhere along the way, he had lost control. Every movement, every attack had become excessively violent, far beyond what he intended, driven by something he couldn’t quite grasp.

"What... happened?"

The question echoed in his mind, heavy with unease. Something had gone wrong inside him, something dangerous, and for the first time in a long while, Ethan realized he didn’t understand himself at all.