Chương 246: Father Killer

"Hey! did you hear me?" the man snapped, irritation sharpening his already rough voice.

"What the hell are you staring at, kid?" Vale blinked, pulled away cleanly from his thoughts, and straightened a little too quickly. He lifted one hand to the back of his head in an awkward reflex, offering a small, apologetic wave with the other.

"Sorry, sir," he said.

"I just… noticed your arm." The man's gaze hardened, not with surprise, but with something that seemed worn and defensive, like a reaction he'd repeated too many times.

"So I'm missing an arm," he replied flatly.

"What of it? Lost it in a fight. That enough explanation for you?" Vale didn't press the man. Instead, he reached into the supply basket, pulled out a wrapped bundle, and extended it toward him. The man took it with a firm, almost aggressive motion, fingers tightening around the package as if bracing against more than just weight.

"Watch who you're talking to, pu-" He stopped mid-sentence. His eyes dropped to Vale's hands. The shift in him was immediate. Irritation faltered, replaced by something sharper, uncertainty, maybe even recognition. His gaze lingered on the faint metallic sheen beneath Vale's sleeve before slowly lifting again, the edge in his expression dulled.

"…That hand," he said, quieter now.

"That's… just a glove, right?" Vale followed his line of sight, then paused as realization caught up with him. His eyes widened slightly, and he glanced down at his own arm as if he'd momentarily forgotten it was there. Without hesitation, he reached up and pulled back the fabric.

"No," he said simply. The sleeve tore away enough to expose the full length of the limb beneath, intricate plating, jointed precision, cold metal where flesh should have been. There was no attempt to soften it. No explanation layered over the truth. The man stared. For a brief second, disbelief flickered across his face, then something different followed. His jaw tightened, and his gaze shifted away, the earlier hostility dissolving into something quieter, edged with discomfort.

"…I see," he muttered.

"Then I spoke too quickly." A pause settled between them, less tense now but heavier in a different way.

"Things have been bad here," he added after a moment, his voice lower.

"Worse than usual. Makes my temper shorter than it should be." Vale raised both hands lightly in response, shaking his head as if to dismiss it entirely.

"It's fine," he said.

"People usually have a reason for reacting like that." The tension eased, not gone, but no longer as sharp as before. Then a voice cut in from behind them.

"Lucias?" Korin stepped into view, his expression shifting from casual recognition to something far more focused the moment his eyes landed on the missing arm. He moved closer, attention locking onto the injury with visible intensity.

"…Your arm," he said, tone tightening.

"What the hell did you fight?" Vale turned quickly, surprise flashing across his face.

'Lucias.' The name settled uneasily as the implication followed close behind.

'A colosseum fighter…' Lucias exhaled slowly, grip tightening around the supplies as if grounding himself before answering. When he spoke, his voice carried a quiet bitterness.

"They put me against a Category Three." Korin's reaction followed immediatly.

"What?" The word came out sharp, edged with anger.

"That's not a match that should be allowed to unfold. Category Threes are Royal Guard-level threats. They don't belong in the colosseum." His jaw clenched as the frustration settled in.

"I'm reporting that. The captain needs to hear about this." Lucias didn't argue. He didn't even look surprised. He simply turned his head slightly and gave a small, resigned nod, as if the outcome had already been decided long before this conversation. Vale stared at him, disbelief written plainly across his face.

"You… killed a Category Three?" he asked. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Lucias met his gaze again, expression flat, almost empty.

"It took my arm," he said. No pride or embellishment. Just the fact. The silence that followed lingered a moment longer than it should have. Then Lucias shifted his weight, turning away as if the conversation had already run its course.

"I've taken enough of your time," he muttered.

"I'll be going." He left without waiting for a response, supplies held firmly at his side, his pace steady but unhurried. Vale watched him disappear into the movement of the slums before turning back to Korin, the disbelief still lingering.

"There are people like that living here?" he said.

"Someone like him should be in the Royal Guard, not struggling down here." Korin exhaled slowly, the earlier edge in his expression fading into something heavier.

"He was," he said. Vale's attention snapped back to him.

"Was?" Korin nodded, gaze drifting briefly toward the ground before returning.

"You know the old king died recently," he said.

"Lucias was one of the guards assigned to him that day." He paused, letting that settle before continuing, his voice quieter now.

"When the king fell, so did everyone responsible for protecting him. Doesn't matter how it happened. Doesn't matter if they survived." His eyes hardened slightly.

"His punishment was exile from the Guard." Vale frowned, leaning slightly against the edge of the supply basket as he dragged a hand over his face, the motion slow and thoughtful.

"That seems… excessive," he said at last, the unease in his tone difficult to mask.

"Maybe," Korin replied, giving a small shrug, though there was no real indifference behind it.

"But that's how it works. Responsibility doesn't get shared, it gets enforced." His voice carried a quiet finality, like something long accepted rather than agreed with. Vale crossed his arms, gaze drifting back toward the direction Lucias had gone, his expression tightening.

"Even then… someone with that kind of strength shouldn't be living like this." Korin let out a faint, humorless chuckle, shifting his weight slightly as he followed Vale's line of sight.

"He wouldn't be," he said, "if he actually kept what he earned. Most of his winnings go straight back into this place, food, medicine, whatever people need." His eyes lingered a moment longer before narrowing slightly.

"Still… taking down a Category Three with colosseum gear? That's not just skill. That's absurd." Vale nodded slowly, though his attention had already begun to drift. His gaze moved across the slums again, tracing the uneven rooftops, the crowded pathways, and then settled on Shade. He paused briefly. Children surrounded the towering construct now, any trace of earlier fear completely gone.

They climbed over him freely, laughing, treating him less like a weapon and more like something between a guardian and a playground. Shade, for his part, remained perfectly still except for small, deliberate adjustments, shifting his form just enough to catch a slipping foot, to steady a child mid-climb, to ensure none of them fell. Vale let out a quiet chuckle under his breath.

"Guess you're popular," he muttered, the tension in his expression easing just slightly. But the moment didn't hold. His gaze shifted again, this time toward the statue. The unease returned immediately. His eyes narrowed as he studied it from a distance, something about it refusing to settle into place. It wasn't obvious, nothing visibly wrong, but the discomfort lingered, persistent and difficult to ignore. After a moment, he pushed himself upright and began walking toward it, his pace slow and deliberate.

"Korin," he called without looking back, "you ever notice anything off about that thing?" Korin glanced over, squinting faintly before shrugging.

"Not really," he said.

"Looks like any other statue to me." Vale didn't respond. He stepped closer, stopping just short of its base before lowering himself into a crouch. His eyes traced along the stone foundation until they found what he was looking for, a simple inscription carved cleanly into the surface.'' Here lies greatness.'' The words were plain, direct. Almost too direct. A shadow shifted beside him.

Vale glanced up to find Shade standing there, three children still clinging to him in various ways, one perched on his arm, another gripping his shoulder, a third hanging from the side of his head. The sight caught him off guard, and he let out a quiet laugh.

"Alright… that's a new look." Shade's crimson eyes flicked toward him briefly, unimpressed, before settling back into their steady glow. Vale shook his head, the amusement fading into something more contemplative. He studied the construct for a moment longer, then the children, then back again.

"…You want to stay here?" he asked. Shade stilled. Its gaze shifted, first to Vale, then down toward the children clinging to it. The pause that followed was subtle, but intentional. Then it nodded. Vale smiled faintly.

"Alright," he said.

"Stay as long as you want." Shade inclined its head in acknowledgment. Vale rose, brushing his hands lightly against his sides before turning back toward Korin.

"Enjoy it," he added offhandedly, already stepping away. As he walked, another thought surfaced.

"Hey," he called out, glancing back, "why don't we see the rest of the Guard? I thought this was a full operation." Korin rolled his eyes lightly, though the motion lacked any real annoyance.

"This is just one section," he said.

"The slums are bigger than they look. Everyone's spread out." A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Normally I'd be covering more ground, but now I've got you helping. Lucky me." Vale snorted.

"Yeah. Real lucky." He hesitated, then continued, tone shifting slightly.

"So, about Nym-""I need to tell you something." Korin's voice cut through the moment, clean and abrupt. Vale stopped mid-step. Something in the tone was off, stripped of its usual ease, devoid of humor. When he turned, Korin was already looking at him, his expression heavier than before, something restrained sitting just beneath the surface. Vale's faint smile faded.

"Sure," he said slowly.

"What is it?" Korin didn't answer right away. His hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as if the words themselves resisted being spoken. For a brief moment, it looked like he might stop there, like he might let it pass entirely. Then he forced it out.

"…It was my father." Vale blinked, as if caught off guard.

"What?" Korin lifted his head fully, meeting his gaze without hesitation now, though there was something hollow behind it.

"The one I killed," he said, voice steady but stripped of anything else, "when I first awakened…" A pause stretched between them, heavy and unavoidable.

"…was him."