Chapter 9: Blood in the applause

 Weeks passed. The air in the village had grown heavy, as if an invisible fog smothered every smile, every kind word. Ren walked through the streets with his eyes downcast, his hands in his pockets and his step slow. No one spoke to him. No one dared cross his gaze.

Doors would close as he passed. Mothers would hurriedly call their children back. Men stared at him with contempt, as if a glance was enough to let him know he was not welcome.

He had become-a monster.
“Get lost!” shouted someone from a house window.
“We don't want a murderer among us!”

But he did not respond. He did not seek understanding or forgiveness. He walked with one goal carved in his heart, the only one that kept him from falling apart. He did not care how much they hated him. He would stay until he found out the truth. Then he would leave. For good.

That day, the sky was a sickly gray, and the air smelled like rain. The boy pushed open the heavy door of the building where the corpses were stored. Silence greeted him like an old friend, broken only by a faint metallic whisper: Michael was examining a body on a cold table.

As soon as he entered, his heart clenched. At least ten bodies lay in the room, covered by rough sheets. They should not have been there. They should not have been there. The number of victims should have long since stopped... but instead....

“What...?” His voice trembled as he approached. “Are there still victims?”

Michael lifted his gaze, his dark circles deep and his forehead beaded with sweat.
"Oh, Ren, yes. And I'm afraid it won't end here."

That was enough. That sentence was enough to ignite a fire within him. Anger enveloped him like a cloak, making it difficult for him to even breathe. Without adding anything else, he spun on his heels and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“LUCIUS!” he shouted at the top of his voice as he ran through the village streets. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

His voice bounced among the houses, like thunder on a starless night. She passed by Mizuki, who turned her head in surprise and for a moment froze. The girl's gaze was full of fear-but there was also something else. Something that even she could not explain: curiosity, perhaps... or concern?

“LUCIUS!” she shouted again. “I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU THIS TIME!”
Then, her voice died out. Not for lack of breath, but because-he had arrived.

Lucius walked with a calm, almost dancing stride, as if his every movement was choreographed by an invisible director. His smile was relaxed, and in his eyes shone that devious light that so drove the crowd crazy.

“Ohhh... Ren...” she said in a honeyed voice. "So you make me feel bad, really. I put my trust in you, a foreigner, and what do you do? You shout around scaring all these poor people. Tsk, tsk..."

The people around began to come out of the houses, drawn by the shouting. Within seconds, Ren found himself surrounded. Everyone's gazes rested on him like blades.

“You monster!” shouted a woman.
“You killed our friends!”
"Lucius, protect us! Kill him!"

“W-what...?” He turned left and right, bewildered. “I-I didn't do anything...”

But no one was listening. His words were lost in the wind, too light to stand against the hurricane Lucius had created. People were not looking for truth. They were looking for a culprit.

Lucius brought a hand to his chest, feigning pain. "My heart aches... to see that you are so confused, Ren. But don't worry, I will help you. You deserve a punishment exemplary."

At his silent command, several guards emerged from street corners. They wore black armor and masks that hid their faces. In an instant, they grabbed him tightly.

"Let go of me! Stop!" shouted the boy, flailing. But it was useless. Chains clutched at his wrists and ankles, forcing him to the ground like a captured animal.
The people's screams were a distorted chorus, a poison that burned in his chest more than anger itself.

They dragged him away like a sack of meat, through dark, dank corridors, to the underground cells. There, they hung him by his wrists, tied like a cured salami, his body aching and blood beginning to pulse in his temples. Minutes passed, perhaps hours. Time stood still. Then ... the door opened with a creak.

Lucius, walked to the cell with theatrical stride, as if he were entering the scene.
"Here we are... finally, just the two of us. Just like old times, eh?" he said in a persuasive voice, as the guards moved away at his nod.

“Wasn't this... the deal...” whispered Ren, in a hushed voice.

The 'man burst into laughter. "Ahahahah! Did you really think I would keep a pact with you? Why, how naive! I am the king... and you are nothing."

“I will rise up... even from here...” he gritted his teeth.

“Oh, sure... but first.” Lucius drew his sword, a thin, polished blade like ice. “Let's see how tough you are.”

Without warning, the blade drew an arc through the air-and struck. The cut to the belly was clean. Deep. Blood began to drip like wine from a broken amphora, staining the floor beneath him.

The pain was so great that Ren could not even scream. His arms were trembling but not breaking. His eyes were open-staring. Yet inside, something was already breaking.

The man leaned over him, the smile still on his face.
"Good... now I'll set you free. But be careful what you do. We're just getting started."

With a snap of his fingers, the chains loosened. Ren's body fell to the ground like a sack of sand. Bleeding. Alone.

The boy was dragged out like a worn-out old sack. He staggered, bent double, as trembling hands tried in vain to stem the blood dripping from the deep wound in his abdomen. His face was as pale as a winter moon, his half-open lips trying to breathe between twinges of unbearable pain.

Each step seemed to bring him closer to the abyss.

In his mind, only one thought was making its way, confused and blurred: Michael. He had to reach him. He had to... But little did he know that Michael had been ordered not to help him.

The boy walked through the village like a dying shadow, dragging his feet in the silence of his own thoughts. When people noticed him, the reaction was immediate: not compassion, not fear, but joy.

"There he is! The monster has received his punishment! Great Lucius!"
"Hooray!"
"Die, you bastard!"

He did not react. The world around him became muffled, distant, unreal. He sought refuge between two houses, staggering until he let himself fall against the cold wall. Sweat beaded his body, yet he shivered as if he were freezing. The pain was unbearable. He closed his eyes, letting himself slowly slide to the ground.

It was then that a figure approached. Light footsteps. A barely perceptible rustling.

"Come on... show me the wound," Mizuki whispered, her voice filled with hesitation and concern.

There was no response. Pain had taken over his voice, choking it. His eyes narrowed, his breath ragged.

Mizuki knelt beside him, pulling out pieces of cloth that she used to wipe the sweat from his forehead and cheeks. Then she made him lie down slowly, gently.

"B-but it's... it's so deep..." he said, his voice cracked. He had never seen such a horrible wound. "H-how did you survive?"

The panic was growing. He had to do something.

“We really need Michael here...”

She was about to get up when a bloody hand grabbed her wrist. The grip was weak, but determined.
"S-stop..." Ren murmured in a hushed voice. "T-they understood that he gave me information-if he helped me they would kill him. The same goes for you. Please... go away....

"W-what are you saying? Even if I don't trust you, I can't let you die!" she replied with a mixture of anger and fear." I don't know how innocent you are, but I want to find out!

But he did not answer. His eyes closed, his body relaxed as if life was slowly leaving him.

"Come on... you're kidding, right?" whispered the girl, gently shaking him. "Aren't you!"

She hit him with a few light slaps on the cheeks, but got no response. Panic assailed her.

“Now they will blame me for your death...!”

Then he noticed a slight movement of his chest. He was still breathing. "You gave me a fright... you idiot."

She was confused. Helpless. She felt she was not up to it. "Now what am I supposed to do...? I'm not strong enough..."

It was then that she heard quick footsteps behind her. A familiar figure approached.

“Come, come, Mizuki, show me,” Michael said in a firm tone.
"What! But-but Ren told me you couldn't help him!"
"And that is indeed the case. But I know that he is innocent. So I help him."

Michael knelt down, placed a warm hand on Ren's wound and closed his eyes. A glowing aura enveloped his hand.
“Healing!”

The magic came to life. The wound began to close slowly, the edges reassembling like threads sewn together by an invisible needle. The blood stopped, the skin regained its color.

"That's it..." he said in a weary voice. "I'm going now, before it's too late. Mizuki, don't let them see you with him, or they will kill you."

"W-well..." she whispered.

The two hurried away, leaving Ren lying between those two houses, still unconscious. His breathing calm. The pain faded. But the storm inside him was far from over.