Chapter 133: Yeon’s determination
They reached the edge of a wider intersection, the transit hub finally visible a short distance ahead, its tall, illuminated sign standing out clearly against the darkening evening sky.
Leon slowed his pace slightly, aware that their walk together was quickly approaching its natural end.
"This is close enough," he said. "I can find my way from here."
Iris nodded, though she lingered for a moment before turning to leave, her earlier curiosity still lingering faintly in her expression. "You’re still strange, you know," she said. "First the books, now this whole no-guild thing. You don’t act like any player I’ve ever met."
"Is that a compliment?" Leon asked.
"Maybe," Iris said, a small smile tugging at her mouth. "I’ll decide later."
Leon huffed out a quiet laugh, some of the tension from earlier easing slightly despite everything still weighing on him internally. Whatever complicated mess of guilt and unease still churned beneath his composed exterior, at least this small, simple exchange offered a brief, welcome distraction from it.
"Thanks again," he said. "For today. The books, all of it."
"Don’t mention it," Iris said, offering a small wave as she began turning back the way they’d come. "Come by again sometime, if you want."
"I will," Leon said, and meant it.
He watched her go for a moment, her figure gradually disappearing into the evening crowd still moving steadily along the street, before finally turning himself toward the transit hub ahead.
Whatever came next, Leon suspected the quiet, simple peace of this particular evening wouldn’t be easy to find again anytime soon.
***
Meanwhile...
Yeon sat propped up against a stack of cushions, the last remnants of Pale Smoke’s healing still humming faintly beneath his skin.
His stomach, once torn open and spilling out in the ruins of the Roaring Lions headquarters, had closed completely, though a thin, silvery scar remained.
It was a permanent reminder of exactly how close he’d come to dying.
The room around him was in one of the branches of Raging Lions, as the headquarters had been completely destroyed.
Pale Smoke stood near the far wall, arms crossed, watching a small holographic display projected from a device resting on the desk nearby.
Neither of them had spoken in several minutes, both fixed on the same broadcast currently replaying across the screen.
Yeon’s jaw tightened as the segment looped back to the beginning, the same news repeating itself in bright, bold lettering.
"Previously exiled from the Allistar family and Roaring Lions guild after being discovered plotting a coup against his own father."
"They actually went with that," Yeon muttered, his voice still raw from disuse. "A coup."
Pale Smoke glanced over at him, his expression carefully unreadable. "The Association’s public relations division works fast when it wants to."
"Fast," Yeon repeated bitterly. "Convenient, more like."
He knew the truth better than anyone. Barely a year ago, he’d watched his brother’s face when the awakening ceremony finally revealed Leon’s talent.
He remembered it clearly, the sudden, crushing silence in the room, their father’s expression sliding from expectation into open disgust.
Before that day, Leon had always been the one people noticed. Better grades, sharper instincts, effortlessly skilled at nearly everything he touched.
Yeon had spent years standing quietly in his twin’s shadow, the two of them sharing nearly identical faces, which had only ever made the comparison sting worse. Everyone had assumed Leon would be the one to inherit their father’s legacy properly.
Then the awakening happened. Leon’s talent had come back D-rank, weak and unremarkable. Yeon’s had come back S-rank, rare and exceptional.
Yeon still remembered the surge of pure, giddy relief that had washed over him in that moment, sharp enough that he’d nearly laughed out loud in front of their father.
Finally, after years of living in his twin’s shadow, the spotlight had turned toward him instead, and he had no intention of sharing it.
He’d been the one who changed first, not Leon. The one who started treating his own brother with coldly, who who stopped bothering to defend him when their father’s disappointment turned into cruelty.
By the time Teon finally cast Leon out of the family entirely, Yeon hadn’t felt a single ounce of guilt.
If anything, he’d been happier that day than he could remember being in years.
"They’re protecting the Association’s image," Pale Smoke said, turning off the display finally, the room dimming slightly without its glow.
"An S-rank player killed by a supposedly worthless exile, discarded over nothing more than a weak talent grade?"
"That story makes the entire ranking system look unstable. Makes people start asking uncomfortable questions about how talents are actually judged, whether the system itself can be trusted."
"So they invented a coup instead," Yeon said. "Made it about Leon’s betrayal, not just revenge."
Pale Smoke said nothing to that, though something in his expression suggested he understood well enough not to argue the point.
Yeon pushed himself further upright, ignoring the dull ache still lingering deep in his abdomen.
"It doesn’t matter," he said. "The story, the lie, none of it changes what actually needs to happen now."
"And what’s that?" Pale Smoke asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"Roaring Lions needs to be rebuilt," Yeon said.
He glanced toward the room’s single window, the city skyline visible beyond it, still scarred in places from the destruction Leon had left behind.
"My father built this guild from nothing. Whatever else he was, he made Roaring Lions one of the strongest names on this entire continent. I won’t let that collapse because of one afternoon of chaos."
Pale Smoke studied him carefully. "Rebuilding takes resources. Most of the guild’s players either died in the collapse or scattered the moment word got out that the headquarters had fallen. You’ll be starting from almost nothing."
"Then I start from nothing," Yeon said, his voice hardening with each word. "I’ll rebuild it myself if I have to."
He paused, his hands curling slowly into fists against the blanket still draped over his legs.
"And when it’s strong enough again, I’m going to find my brother, and I’m going to kill him."