The two of them stepped past the broken gate.
The moment Shun saw the inside, his breath caught.
An outpost—abandoned. Not recently… Years, maybe more.
The watch posts were empty, their torches long gone, wood bleached and cracked by time.
Grass and vines crawled over the stone.
He took a few steps in.
The houses near the gate were worse.
Doors hanging open.
Roofs sagging.
Windows shattered and swallowed by wild plants that spilled out into the gravel road, stretching forward… guiding him deeper.
He remembered this road.
It used to be loud… Merchants shouting, children running, guards arguing over nothing.
Now—nothing.
Shun's jaw tightened.
The anger that carried him here drained away, leaking out of him until there was nothing left to hold it up.
His fists loosened.
His shoulders sank.
His eyes, once burning, dulled—slowly shifting from rage into something heavier.
Despair settled in.
Shun knew how strong their knights were.
The Drosswyn knighthood stood among the best in the kingdom—disciplined, ruthless, loyal to the core.
A place guarded by them shouldn't look like this. Shouldn't feel this dead.
Questions piled up fast, crashing into each other with no answers in sight.
He didn't wait.
Shun leapt onto Dumdum's back and kicked him forward, riding hard toward his family's estate.
"Dammit… god—dammit!" Shun cursed again and again, his voice breaking into the hollow air as the ruins of home rushed past him.
As he drew closer to the estate, the truth stopped hiding.
The damage wasn't subtle anymore.
Scorched stone, cracked walls, deep gouges carved into the ground.
Rusted weapons lay half-buried along the road, eaten by time and neglect, their edges dull but still screaming of a fight that shouldn't have been lost.
"Fucking shit… why… how…" Shun muttered, his voice tight.
His hands clenched around the reins until his knuckles ached.
The Drosswyn family weren't just nobles.
They were blacksmiths—masters of the craft.
Their forges had built blades for knights, relics for heroes, and tools coveted across the Kingdom of Verdancyrr.
Their rise made enemies.
Bitter families choking on envy, neighboring kingdoms shitting themselves at the mere thought of the Drosswyn name overpowering them on the battlefield.
Being targeted made sense.
Moments later, Shun reached the estate gate.
Dumdum didn't hesitate—he rammed through it, wood splintering apart as Shun leapt off and bolted forward.
"FATHER!... BROTHER!... ANYONE!" His voice echoed as he tore the door open.
The hall greeted him with a dead stillness that felt wrong in his bones.
Shun stood there, breathing hard, his fists trembled… didn't notice the tears until one slipped down his cheek and hit the floor.
He slowly stepped into the rooms, each creaking floorboard beneath his feet echoing through the empty space.
Dust floated in the shafts of light coming through the half-closed windows.
He moved cautiously, eyes scanning the corners, feeling the weight of silence pressing down.
The living room appeared first, with furniture draped in tattered sheets, and a faint smell of old wood and time-long-forgotten meals.
A flicker of memory hit him.
A younger Shun, staring out the window, sunlight catching his hair.
"Oii, Shun…" a voice called behind him. He spun around. "Brother?" he whispered.
"Are you grounded again? Tch… wanna go outside?"
Shun shook his head eagerly.
His brother grinned, lifting the window latch. "Climb up," he said.
Shun scrambled, gripping the ledge, his small body struggling… made it up… and tumbled down with a thud.
Both of them looked at the window for a moment, then threw a thumbs up to each other, laughing.
Moments after shun left the estate, a massive explosion ripped through the town.
Smoke and fire clawed at the sky.
Their father's voice bellowed over the chaos, shaking the very walls of the estate.
"SHUUUUN!"
his brother froze, eyes wide, staring at the devastation and muttered, "Ohh fuck…" under his breath.
Their father entered the room where Shun's brother was lounging.
SMACK.
"Why the hell did you let Shun out?"
Shun's brother rubbed his head, then grinned. "Mwehe—"
"Don't smile at me, you bastard!"
Their father didn't waste another second. He turned to the knights standing by the wall.
"Go. Capture Shun. Bring that little shit back to the training grounds."
His eyes narrowed. "As fast as you can."
The knights moved instantly.
Then—grab.
"As for you," their father said calmly, fingers clamping onto his son's ear, "you're coming with me."
"Owww—owww—WAIT—!"
Shun's brother stumbled as he was dragged across the hall, feet scraping uselessly against the floor.
"You're next in line as a young patriarch," their father continued "And you act like this? Reckless.... Stupid."
"B-but Shun wanted to go out—"
Sigh.
Their father exhaled slowly, tired. "You two really go out of your way to drag me out during my busiest schedule."
"Oho?" Shun's brother grinned despite the pain. "How'd you know?"
The ear twist tightened.
"OWWW FUUUUU—"
Meanwhile—
Shun was being dragged straight through town by two fully armored knights.
The townsfolk didn't even pretend to be shocked.
"I knew it—young lord again," someone laughed.
"That explosion was way better than the last one," another added. "Bigger too."
Shun looked at them, breathless but proud.
He raised his thumb.
The crowd laughed harder.
Once they reached the estate, the real fun began.
Their father had prepared a "special" lesson.
Shun and his brother were thrown into the courtyard, where training dummies—rigged with springs, weighted arms, and every cruel little trick the estate smiths could devise.
"Try not to break yourselves before lunch," their father said, while sipping tea.
The boys were made to spar that dummy.
Every swing from a dummy's spring-loaded arm sent them sprawling into the mud.
One dummy's arm shot out, smacking Shun square in the chest and flipping him backward into a pile of hay.
His brother ran toward a different dummy, only for it to swing sideways, catapulting him into a knight's boots.
"Strike! Defend! Or are you just going to lay there like cowards?" the father barked, while the knights called out ridiculous, mock-announcer lines for every impact.
"And that's another TKO for Sir Shun!" one knight shouted as Shun groaned from the mud.
"The young patriarch takes a devastating hit to the backside! The crowd goes wild!" another announced, laughing.
Shun tried to stand, mud dripping into his eyes, teeth gritted. His brother stumbled beside him, arms flailing, hat askew.
Every swing, every humiliating tumble brought another round of mock applause from the knights.
By the end of the morning, both were bruised, battered, and completely humiliated.
Their clothes were shredded, and their father leaned back, smiling.
"Lesson learned?" he asked, voice calm, the boys weren't lying in the mud, trying to convince themselves they were still alive.
"Yes… father," they mumbled in unison, too sore.
Shun smiled… then continued his slow walk toward the estate.
Each step felt heavier the closer he got.
The laughter from town faded behind him.
Silence crept in.
He pushed the doors open and entered his father's office.
The scent of ink and old wood hung in the air.
Papers were neatly stacked. Nothing out of place.
Which somehow made it worse.
Shun swallowed.
What could possibly await him here?