Chapter 17: Chapter 15. The Weakest Among The Brave

The first light of dawn stretched across Verdant Hollow, casting long golden fingers over the mist-veiled valley below. High above the awakening city, nestled atop a solitary hill draped in dew-kissed grass, stood the Neo Genesis Guild—not just a building, but a fortress of quiet reverence and ancient power.

Its walls were forged from blackwood and mountain stone, etched with faint, glowing runes that pulsed gently with energy. Moss crept along the eastern edges, and ivy hung like nature’s banners over carved archways. Wind chimes whispered on the breeze, each tone like a memory echoing through the air.

A soft fog blanketed the hilltop, curling like a living thing around the base of the structure. Birds had not yet begun their morning songs. The guild, like the world around it, seemed to be holding its breath.

Inside one of the upper rooms, a quiet breath stirred the stillness.

Sky’s eyelids fluttered.

His first sensation was pain—dull, wrapping around his ribs and shoulders like heavy coils. His second was warmth—a blanket, tucked around his sides. And the third… was stillness. Peaceful, alien stillness.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the pale morning light spilling through the wooden slats of a half-opened window. His vision focused.

The ceiling was wooden. Old, but smooth. He lay in a bed, firm but comfortable, wrapped in soft linens. Bandages crisscrossed his chest and arms, tightly secured. His hair felt a little damp, brushed aside with care.

Then he turned his head—and stopped.

On the ground beside his bed, curled awkwardly with one arm flopped over his chest, lay Taigami, sleeping. His face was marked by tear-stains, dried against pale cheeks, and his breathing was soft, as if every breath was fighting off the heaviness of the world.

Sky felt something pinch behind his eyes.

Before he could speak—before he could even sit up—a voice cut through the quiet like a blade sheathed in sarcasm.

“Well, well. Sleeping beauty wakes.”

Sky jerked slightly and looked toward the source.

Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, was a boy perhaps a year or two older than Prince. His short, raven-black hair was tousled like he hadn’t slept at all, and two curved swords were strapped to either side of his hips. His tunic was open at the collar, exposing a scar along his neck. He smirked lazily, one brow raised.

Sky blinked. “...Who are you?”

The boy pushed off the doorframe and walked closer. “Charles. Charles Leonheart. Grandson to the old man who dragged you two out of death’s jaws.” He gave a casual nod. “Welcome to the Neo Genesis Guild, by the way. You’re lucky. Not many outsiders make it to this hilltop alive.”

Sky sat up slightly, wincing. “Where… are Prince and Ivan?”

Charles’s smirk faded just slightly.

“Didn’t see them,” he said with a shrug. “When Master Arthur found you, it was just the two of you—unconscious, bleeding, barely breathing.” He leaned against the wall now, arms folded. “Sorry.”

Sky’s lips parted—but no words came. He looked down, hands tightening in the sheets.

A soft groan came from the floor.

Taigami stirred, blinking groggily as he sat up. The moment consciousness returned, so did the pain in his heart. His eyes went wide, then distant.

He remembered.

“Ivan...” he whispered.

Sky looked over at him.

“Taigami,” he said gently. “You’re okay.”

But Taigami wasn’t listening. His arms wrapped around his knees as he looked down. The weight of it all was back—and now it sat on his chest like a stone.

“...We lost them,” he murmured. “Didn’t we?”

Charles glanced between them, his face unreadable now. “You saw death. And walked away from it. That’s more than most.”

Just then, the door creaked open again.

This time, the presence that stepped in was soft, light, and almost glowing in the morning light.

A girl entered—about Taigami’s age, maybe a little younger—with chestnut-brown hair tied back in a ribbon, and delicate glasses that framed warm hazel eyes. She wore a simple green cloak and carried a small satchel of herbs and bandages in her hands.

“Sorry I’m late!” she said quickly, breathless. “I brought the rest of the salves. I—oh.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she saw Sky sitting up.

“You’re awake,” she said, her tone softening into a smile. “That’s good.”

Sky gave a nod. “Thanks... for treating us.”

The girl walked closer, setting her bag beside the bed and kneeling to check Sky’s pulse. “I’m Celia Leonheart. Charles is my older brother. I help Master Arthur with healing—at least, until I get strong enough to do more.”

Her touch was light, practiced. Her presence... soothing.

But it wasn’t Sky who noticed her.

It wasn’t Taigami either.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He sat curled tightly on the floor beside the bed, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around them like a child bracing against the wind. His head was bowed, hair hanging low to cover his face. Even when the door creaked and the girl entered—her presence gentle, her steps feather-light—he didn’t look up. He didn’t even flinch.

He wasn’t ignoring her.

He was ignoring everything.

The pain in his body meant nothing now. The soft voice of the healer. The sunlight through the window. Even Sky, awake beside him.

Nothing broke through.

Because right now, he was disgusted.

Not by his wounds.

Not by the dried blood on his clothes.

But by himself.

His fingers dug tighter into his arms, as if holding himself in place—trying to contain the storm building in his chest.

And then, quietly… he began to murmur.

His voice was soft, shaky. But the words carried weight, like stones dropped in still water.

“Ivan…”

The name alone shattered him.

He saw it again—too vividly.

Ivan’s grin, wide and reckless, taunting the enemy.

Then the silver flash—that horrific spear that hadn’t even been thrown, just appeared, lodged in his stomach like death itself had been waiting.

The way Ivan’s body flew back—limp, lifeless.

Over the cliff.

Gone.

Just… gone.

Taigami bit his lip. His eyes burned, but no tears fell. They couldn’t. Not now. His soul was too raw to cry.

He saw Prince, falling to his knees, that scream ripping through the forest. A scream no one should ever have to make.

He saw Sky, bloodied and coughing, still standing despite it all. Still fighting.

And then… he saw Ulrich Lane again.

Standing alone in the ruined alleys of Throst City, backlit by fire and death.

Fending off monsters from the Breach with nothing but a sword and sheer will.

All of them… brave. Strong. Selfless.

And he…

He was just there.

His voice cracked as he spoke again, this time more clearly—more bitterly.

“They all fought. And I just watched.”

Sky, now fully sitting up, turned his head sharply. His eyes focused on Taigami, worry replacing the quiet peace from moments before.

Charles looked over, brow furrowed. Celia paused with a salve in her hand, blinking.

But Taigami continued, unaware—or uncaring—of their attention.

“Back in Throst... Ulrich gave his life to save us.”

“Ivan died.”

“Prince… he gave everything.”

“Sky fought with blood pouring out of his mouth.”

He rocked slightly.

“And me? I stood there. Again.”

Sky quietly pushed aside the sheet and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his wounds protesting. But he ignored them. His feet touched the wooden floor softly as he moved toward Taigami.

Taigami’s eyes were distant, fixed on something invisible—something only he could see.

“Even back home…” he whispered. “My father. My mother. Gobomi.”

The names stung. His fists tightened.

“They were slaughtered. Torn apart by that masked monster and his ghosts… and I just hid.”

His voice lowered.

“One thing was always the same.”

Sky knelt in front of him, gently reaching out a hand, but Taigami didn’t stop.

“Everywhere I go, death follows.”

“And I can’t stop it.”

“Because I’ve always been the weakest.”

His voice broke on the last word.

“Always… the weakest one.”

Sky said nothing at first. He didn’t offer sympathy. He didn’t give hollow reassurance. Instead, he rested a hand gently on Taigami’s arm. His touch wasn’t firm—but it was real.

A tether.

A reminder.

Taigami slowly turned his head, eyes wide, breath shaking.

Sky met his gaze.

Quiet.

Honest.

And not disappointed.

Not angry.

Just… there.

A calm in the middle of a very old storm.

Charles, now standing, opened his mouth to ask something—but Celia held up a hand, her brows knit with quiet understanding. “Wait,” she whispered.

Let them have this moment.

Sky’s hand stayed on Taigami’s shoulder.

Quiet. Steady.

“I remember what you promised,” he said gently. “Back in Throst. You said you wouldn’t give up. That you’d keep going. No matter what.”

Taigami’s eyes flickered.

Sky leaned in, his voice still low, but now with conviction.

“Ulrich Lane believed in you, Taigami. He trusted you. He believed in you so much that,… he sent you to Arthur Leonheart.”

At the sound of Ulrich’s name, Charles, who had been standing quietly near the door, visibly tensed. His eyes narrowed.

“You knew Ulrich?” he asked, his voice sharper than before.

Sky didn’t turn to him. His gaze stayed fixed on Taigami.

“You awakened something on that ship. Something powerful. You may not see it—but I do. We all did.”

Taigami’s eyes shimmered—glassy with emotion, drowning in sorrow. He stared at Sky like a mirror refusing to lie.

Then suddenly, without warning—

Taigami grabbed Sky by the collar.

Tight.

“Then tell me!” he roared, his voice raw and cracking. “Why did you save me?!”

Sky didn’t resist. He looked at him calmly, even as Taigami’s grip trembled with grief and rage.

“You should’ve left me! I was dead weight. That’s all I’ve ever been!”

He shook him, tears finally breaking free, sliding down his cheeks.

“I could’ve been useful in one way at least… If I had died, maybe—maybe I wouldn’t be such a burden!”

And then—

He shoved Sky.

Sky stumbled backward, colliding into a shelf, crashing into Celia just as she was setting down her medical kit. She let out a sharp gasp as herbs and glass jars clattered to the floor around her.

She fell to the ground beside them.

The sound shattered the silence like lightning.

“CELIA!”

Charles was on Taigami in a heartbeat.

A blade hissed from its sheath, and in one fluid, deadly movement, the cold steel was pressed beneath Taigami’s chin.

His hand didn’t tremble.

“Touch my sister again,” Charles growled, his tone like thunder caught in a cage, “even by accident… and I’ll carve regret into your ribs.”

Taigami froze. His eyes wide with a fear not for himself—but for what he had just done.

Sky, regaining balance, raised one shaking hand.

And with a flick of his fingers—a shard of ice formed in his palm. Small. Crystalline. Sharp.

He hurled it at Charles.

The blade-bearing swordsman didn’t flinch.

He slashed.

The icy ball split cleanly in mid-air, falling in two perfect halves at his feet. And faster than thought—his second blade was out, its edge pointed now at Sky.

The room cracked with tension.

Two blades.

One at Taigami’s throat.

One at Sky’s heart.

Celia, still on the floor, gasped—but didn’t speak. She covered her mouth, her breath catching in her chest.

It was a moment suspended in pure stillness.

Until—

THUMP.

The sound of a staff striking stone.

Firm. Final.

Everyone froze.

An old man stood at the doorway.

He hadn’t made a sound coming up the stairs. No footfalls. No breathing.

But now, his presence filled the room like a pressure drop before a storm.

Arthur Leonheart.

His voice was calm. Measured.

But carried the weight of storms and centuries.

“Charles.”

The boy stiffened.

Arthur’s eyes—deep, ancient, impossible to read—fell upon him.

“Is this how you welcome guests into my home?”

Charles clenched his jaw. Then, without a word, sheathed both blades in one graceful motion.

The room exhaled. But no one dared speak.

Arthur stepped further in. His walking stick tapped once again against the wooden floor.

“I believe introductions are overdue.”

He looked from Taigami to Sky, his gaze unreadable… but not unkind.

And then—his eyes narrowed, just slightly.

“You’re the one Ulrich sent.”

A beat passed.

“A lot sooner than expected.”

He raised a hand.

And the entire room dimmed slightly, as if the air itself was bracing for what came next.