Chapter 27:
The Abandoned Child
The Conqueror
Chapter 27 – The Abandoned Child
The blaze of light swallowed Shinra whole.
For a moment, there was nothing—no sound, no breath, no pain.
Only a cold stillness pressing against his chest, as if the world itself had stopped.
Then, faintly, a new sound pierced the silence.Waaaaa… waaaaa…
A baby's cry.
Shinra's eyes snapped open. He was no longer in the pitch-black void.
Instead, his feet touched wet stone, his body weightless, as though he had no form.
The night air was damp, heavy with the scent of rain-soaked streets.
Place: west elyasia a small village called Blackcall.He looked down at his hands. They were faint, hazy—translucent. A shiver ran through him."…I'm like a ghost."
This wasn't his memory. He was watching.
A cloaked figure hurried down the narrow street, clutching something close to their chest.
Their hood concealed their face, and their steps were quick but careful, like someone running from both pursuit and regret.
The cry grew louder.
Shinra's gaze dropped to the bundle in the figure's arms—a basket. Inside, a baby writhed weakly, tiny fists shaking, voice raw from crying.
The figure stopped at a large stone building. Its walls were tall and plain, but above the doorway gleamed an iron emblem—a guild crest.
Shinra froze."…A guild orphanage."
Not an ordinary orphanage. These places took in abandoned children, but they weren't raised with warmth or kindness.
They were trained, educated, and forged into tools for the guild. Those who survived became adventurers, guards, or scholars. Those who didn't—were forgotten.
The cloaked figure placed the basket gently on the stone threshold.
Their hands trembled, hovering over the baby as though they couldn't bear to let go.
"Live…" the figure whispered, voice breaking. "…even if without me."
The words carved into Shinra's chest.
The figure lingered one heartbeat longer, then stepped back into the mist. Without turning around, they vanished into the night.
Shinra wanted to chase, to grab their arm and demand answers, but his ghostlike body would not move. He was only a witness.
The orphanage door creaked open.
An exhausted man in plain guild attire stepped out, a lantern in one hand.
He frowned, following the crying sound until his eyes landed on the basket.
"…Another one," he muttered.
Crouching, he lifted the baby into his arms. The cries softened, though the child's tiny face was red and wet with tears.
The man studied him carefully—pausing when he noticed a faint mark near the child's collarbone, shaped almost like a broken crescent.The worker frowned."Strange eyes… strange mark… Whoever left you here, boy, you're not ordinary."
He sighed, shaking his head, but his voice softened despite himself."Still… the guild will raise you strong. Better than the streets could, at least."
Carrying the baby inside, he shut the door.
Shinra drifted after them like smoke, passing through the wall without resistance.
His eyes locked on the infant again, and his breath caught.
The hair, the shape of the eyes—it was faint, but familiar.
His chest went cold."This baby… is Father."
The realization struck him like thunder.
The room faded. Suddenly, Shinra was pulled deeper into the orphanage halls, as if dragged by unseen strings.
He saw rows of narrow beds. Bare walls. The sharp scent of sweat, steel, and wood.
Children trained with wooden swords under the gaze of guild instructors. Small hands bled, but no one dared stop.
Among them, a slightly older boy stumbled, struggling to swing his blade.
His knees shook, his breaths came ragged, yet he gritted his teeth and raised the weapon again.
Shinra's eyes widened. It was the same child—the same baby. His father, still only a boy.
Pain twisted in Shinra's chest."All this time… Father grew up here? Alone?"
The scene shuddered. Walls wavered, children blurred, shadows bled into the corners.
The orphanage dissolved into black.
Shinra stood once more in pitch-blackness, alone, the cry of the infant still echoing in his ears.
And then—the same deep, rumbling voice as before vibrated through the void.
"This is the past you chose to see."
The world cracked apart.
The crying faded.
The training yard vanished. And Shinra was left in silence, burdened by the truth of his father's beginning.
The blaze of light swallowed Shinra whole.
For a moment, there was nothing—no sound, no breath, no pain.
Only a cold stillness pressing against his chest, as if the world itself had stopped.
Then, faintly, a new sound pierced the silence.Waaaaa… waaaaa…
A baby's cry.
Shinra's eyes snapped open. He was no longer in the pitch-black void.
Instead, his feet touched wet stone, his body weightless, as though he had no form.
The night air was damp, heavy with the scent of rain-soaked streets.
Place: west elyasia a small village called Blackcall.He looked down at his hands. They were faint, hazy—translucent. A shiver ran through him."…I'm like a ghost."
This wasn't his memory. He was watching.
A cloaked figure hurried down the narrow street, clutching something close to their chest.
Their hood concealed their face, and their steps were quick but careful, like someone running from both pursuit and regret.
The cry grew louder.
Shinra's gaze dropped to the bundle in the figure's arms—a basket. Inside, a baby writhed weakly, tiny fists shaking, voice raw from crying.
The figure stopped at a large stone building. Its walls were tall and plain, but above the doorway gleamed an iron emblem—a guild crest.
Shinra froze."…A guild orphanage."
Not an ordinary orphanage. These places took in abandoned children, but they weren't raised with warmth or kindness.
They were trained, educated, and forged into tools for the guild. Those who survived became adventurers, guards, or scholars. Those who didn't—were forgotten.
The cloaked figure placed the basket gently on the stone threshold.
Their hands trembled, hovering over the baby as though they couldn't bear to let go.
"Live…" the figure whispered, voice breaking. "…even if without me."
The words carved into Shinra's chest.
The figure lingered one heartbeat longer, then stepped back into the mist. Without turning around, they vanished into the night.
Shinra wanted to chase, to grab their arm and demand answers, but his ghostlike body would not move. He was only a witness.
The orphanage door creaked open.
An exhausted man in plain guild attire stepped out, a lantern in one hand.
He frowned, following the crying sound until his eyes landed on the basket.
"…Another one," he muttered.
Crouching, he lifted the baby into his arms. The cries softened, though the child's tiny face was red and wet with tears.
The man studied him carefully—pausing when he noticed a faint mark near the child's collarbone, shaped almost like a broken crescent.The worker frowned."Strange eyes… strange mark… Whoever left you here, boy, you're not ordinary."
He sighed, shaking his head, but his voice softened despite himself."Still… the guild will raise you strong. Better than the streets could, at least."
Carrying the baby inside, he shut the door.
Shinra drifted after them like smoke, passing through the wall without resistance.
His eyes locked on the infant again, and his breath caught.
The hair, the shape of the eyes—it was faint, but familiar.
His chest went cold."This baby… is Father."
The realization struck him like thunder.
The room faded. Suddenly, Shinra was pulled deeper into the orphanage halls, as if dragged by unseen strings.
He saw rows of narrow beds. Bare walls. The sharp scent of sweat, steel, and wood.
Children trained with wooden swords under the gaze of guild instructors. Small hands bled, but no one dared stop.
Among them, a slightly older boy stumbled, struggling to swing his blade.
His knees shook, his breaths came ragged, yet he gritted his teeth and raised the weapon again.
Shinra's eyes widened. It was the same child—the same baby. His father, still only a boy.
Pain twisted in Shinra's chest."All this time… Father grew up here? Alone?"
The scene shuddered. Walls wavered, children blurred, shadows bled into the corners.
The orphanage dissolved into black.
Shinra stood once more in pitch-blackness, alone, the cry of the infant still echoing in his ears.
And then—the same deep, rumbling voice as before vibrated through the void.
"This is the past you chose to see."
The world cracked apart.
The crying faded.
The training yard vanished. And Shinra was left in silence, burdened by the truth of his father's beginning.
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