Chapter 16: The child who escaped from hell

 The sun filtered through the branches of the trees like golden fingers, and the village of Ren enjoyed one of those mornings that seem to last forever.

The dusty streets came alive with quiet voices, laughter, and children running with pieces of still-warm bread in their hands. Merchants arranged their wares on their stalls, fabrics fluttering in the wind, scented with spices and hopes. It was the calm after the storm... or perhaps the calm before it.

In the heart of the village, Lucius watched the sky with his arms crossed, his gaze stern as if waiting for an answer that the wind stubbornly refused to give him. He was restless. Something in his heart vibrated with the same tension as a bowstring ready to snap.

And then it happened. A cry. Shrill. Broken. Desperate.

“H-Help...!”

The cheerful voices stopped abruptly, as if cut off by an invisible blade. Everyone turned toward the road leading to the woods. The figure of a child emerged from the dust, staggering as if each step were his last.

He had short, brown, dusty hair, scratched skin, dry lips, and trembling knees. He wore a dirty, torn gray T-shirt and worn-out pants that looked as if they were about to fall apart. His eyes, however... Those eyes were filled with a terror that no child his age should ever have to know.

“Child...! Hey, are you okay?!” A man dropped the sack of flour he was carrying and hurried over.

The young man staggered. “P-please... save... me...” And then he collapsed. His knees gave way, and his body slumped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Quick! Someone call a doctor!” shouted the man, kneeling beside the child.

But before anyone could react, a sudden gust of wind blew away some leaves and in an instant... Ren appeared.

His night-colored eyes scanned the body on the ground with a clear and determined gaze. He had heard the cry. Even though he was far away, his keen hearing had picked up that desperate cry like a whisper in his ear.

“What happened?” he asked in a firm voice, looking at the kneeling man.

But his words were received like thorns.

“You?! Go away! Nobody called you!”

"Get lost, monster! We don't want you here!” shouted another, pushing him away with a look full of anger.

He stood still. He did not lower his gaze. He did not move a step. Then, slowly, he spoke.

“If this child dies... you will be arrested. For life.”

An icy silence fell over the group.

“W-what?!” stammered the oldest man, backing away. “But... but that's unfair!”

“No. It's unfair to let him die. I'm here to save him. And by doing this, you're denying him his only chance.”

“You're the danger! You're a monster!”

The boy bent down slowly, looking at the child lying unconscious on the ground. His face was pale, his breathing labored.

“Yes... maybe I am a monster. But at least... I am a monster who saves people.” His voice was calm, but beneath those words lay an ancient pain. A wound that still bled.

“Give me the child. I'll take him to someone who can heal him.”

No one moved.

He looked up, his gaze as cold as ice. “Must I remind you of the consequences if he dies...?”

The man closest to him took a step back. His mouth opened to reply, but no words came out. Finally, he bowed his head.

“N-no... please. Take him away...”

He nodded. He bent down gently, as if afraid of breaking him, and lifted the child into his arms. He was lighter than expected. Too light.

“Let's go.”

With determined but respectful steps, he turned and disappeared down the main street.

The light filtering through the window was dim, like a delicate whisper of morning. The small body in the bed trembled slightly, still trapped in the chill left by a nightmare that was all too real.

His eyelids lifted slowly, revealing two large, frightened eyes that moved quickly to explore the room. It was a simple, clean place. A bed, a desk, and the muffled sound of a village living just beyond the walls. A world that already seemed far removed from what he had seen with his own eyes.

“W-where... where am I?” His voice sounded more like a broken whisper than a real question.

Ren, sitting next to the bed, turned toward him with a gentle look. His eyes were deep, marked by a constant shadow... yet at that moment they shone with a calm light.

“Don't worry, you're safe now.” His tone was calm and measured.

“S-safe...? Really...?”

“Yes. No one will hurt you, I promise.”

Then he stood up and, approaching the door, called out loudly, “Lucius, the child has woken up.”

The sound of footsteps followed immediately. In a few moments, a tall, imposing man crossed the threshold. He was wearing his usual cloak, and his face wore a composed expression, although his eyes searched impatiently for answers.

The boy moved slightly aside. Every time he saw him, his heart tightened with rage. The desire to stab him with a blade, to end the existence he considered guilty, grew more acute. But it was not yet time. He had to wait. He had to survive.

“How are you feeling, little one?” Lucius asked, bending down slightly to get closer to his level.

The child curled up, clutching the blankets to himself. The terror had not yet left him.

“I-I... I'm scared...”

“It's okay. It's normal. But if you can... try to tell us what happened. Whatever you remember.”

The little boy trembled, his pale lips moving uncertainly, his eyes glistening.

“I-I was with my friends... we were playing near the market, as usual. And then... a man arrived. He was wearing a black cloak... and a white mask...”

Ren stiffened. A white mask?

The child swallowed. “H-he... he set fire to the houses... and with frightening ease... he killed everyone. Everyone!”

The crying exploded, sudden and uncontrollable. The little boy's hands covered his face as sobs shook him.

“What...?” The boy took a step back. The child's voice was sincere. Too sincere.

Lucius crossed his arms, gloomy. “This isn't the first I've heard of such an attack. It seems that another village has been conquered. They call him ‘the masked man’... and apparently he's real.”

“He killed everyone! My mom... my dad... my friends!” the child screamed again.

Ren sat down next to him again. “How did you manage to save yourself?”

"W-when I saw him... I was scared. I... I ran as fast as I could! I hid... in a cave. I stayed there, alone... for days. "

“It must have been terrible...”

“But now you're here, and no one will hurt you anymore. Get some rest, you need to regain your strength,” Lucius finally said, trying to comfort him with a smile, but the child closed his eyes, still trembling.

The two left the room in silence.

“Well...” Lucius began, in a more cheerful tone, “now that the threat is real, it's time to show the world what I'm capable of!”

The boy looked at him with sharp eyes. “You're really excited about a war, huh?”

The man turned, pointing to himself. “Training. That's what we need. You and the others will leave the village tomorrow. You will fight every creature you find in your path.”

“Great. Die torn apart by wolves to prepare to die killed by a masked man. What motivation,” he snapped sarcastically, shoving his hands in his pockets.

The chief burst out laughing. “Come on, don't be so gloomy. You'll see, it'll be fun.”

But Ren didn't answer. His thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. Not only did he have to keep pretending with Lucius, but now... there was another shadow on the horizon.

A man. A white mask. A frightening power.

“This time... this time I can't just stand by and watch.”

His gaze rose to the cloudy sky. A new enemy had appeared. And Ren, still unaware of how deep the roots of that threat ran, was about to set foot in a territory far darker than he could ever imagine.