The aggressor lay sprawled on the ground, bleeding profusely, the color drained from his face. Orion approached him with a grin.
"Sorry, but to be honest, I tried to finish you quick!" he said, as if justifying himself.
Then he kicked the man in the face, sending him flying another meter.
Again, Orion used the same technique—redirecting the blood flow to his injured leg before striking. This time, he held back just enough that his skin didn't explode like it had with his arm. Now, it just hurt like hell.
The man tried to rise again, but while Orion had too much blood pumping through his muscles, the aggressor had almost none. He managed to lift himself slightly before losing balance and collapsing, his body limp and unresponsive to his own commands.
Orion stepped closer once more—but instead of attacking, he bowed to the man.
"Thanks for being my stepping stone! Now, I get to join the expedition!" he said, gratitude dripping from his tone.
The man gritted his teeth in fury, about to spit out some retort—but a fist flew straight into his jaw. A loud crack echoed as his mandible gave way.
The pain knocked him out cold.
Orion let out a sigh.
Then kicked the man in the torso.
Waited a few seconds.
Kicked him again—this time in the face.
After another pause, he was about to aim lower.
"STOP KICKING AN UNCONSCIOUS MAN!" Ashka snapped, striding forward.
"But I gotta be sure! Last time I celebrated early, he nearly slit my throat!" Orion shot back, clutching his—well, his remaining hand—to his neck.
Ashka considered it. Yeah, fair point.
"Alright, fine. But he's done. You actually won this time," Ashka said.
Outwardly, Ashka looked as calm and composed as ever. Inwardly, he was barely keeping himself upright. If his body weren't leagues beyond a normal man's, he'd have already sat down to recover.
"You're not some great clan's bastard, are you?" Ashka asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"What? No! If I were, why would I be stuck in this backwater colony? I'd already be Kindled and long gone!" Orion scoffed. Why was he being questioned after displaying such mastery in combat?
Ashka listened but wasn't convinced. That stance didn't resemble any martial art he knew—maybe Orion was telling the truth?
"So!" Orion snapped him out of his thoughts.
Ashka blinked and took in the boy's state—his arm shredded, his leg muscles strained to the point of raw flesh, his nose crooked and gushing blood, his chest a massive purple bruise.
"Am I in?!" The only remnant of the cheerful, optimistic boy from before was his bright orange eyes, now gleaming with anticipation.
'Ah, right.' Ashka had forgotten the deal for a moment. The fight had shifted so abruptly that it hadn't sunk in—Orion had won. That meant taking him to the Sanctuary. He'd been so caught up in the melancholy of leaving him behind that he hadn't processed it.
"I guess... a deal's a deal... right...?" Ashka said slowly, unsure if those were even the right words.
Orion's face lit up, his excitement impossible to contain.
"YEEEEEEEE—"
But before he could finish celebrating, something seemed to slam into Orion's body. His muscles gave out, his ruined knee buckled, his eyes went blank—and he collapsed, unconscious.
The exhaustion of pushing his limits had finally caught up to him.
"Good job," Ashka said with a smile. To the onlookers, it might've looked macabre—a man grinning at what seemed like a dead child. But Orion was far from dead. The kid had grit.
The authorities who'd been watching with Ashka rushed forward.
"Quick! Arrest the thug and get this boy to a medic!" His subordinates moved to comply—one grabbing the aggressor, the other reaching for Orion.
But Ashka blocked the way.
"Hey, hey! Didn't I say this kid's with me? That makes him my responsibility. I'll handle him." He slung Orion over his shoulder.
"But he's critically injured, it's better if—"
Ashka fixed the officer with a sharp glare.
"I said he's my responsibility," he repeated, his tone daring challenge. "Move."
The authorities stepped aside like it was an order, and Ashka walked off.
"Damn, that's intense," one officer muttered.
"I've got chills, look!" The other pointed at his arm, hairs standing on end. "That guy's way too imposing for a Sparkling... Captain?"
The captain in question watched Ashka's retreating back with a heavy gaze. "That's just how he is. Ashka of Command... Rumor says he challenged a Sanctuary at thirteen."
"W-What?!"
"Thirteen?!"
Both subordinates were disbelived
"Commando's had a rough decade. Every Sparkling from there is a monster..." the captain sighed, then turned to his men. "Looks like we're extending our escort duty."
"What? Why?"
"Because that bastard abandoned the supply patrol..."
*******
Ashka figured today hadn't been so unproductive after all. He'd gotten paid for a job he didn't even finish, watched the little bastard who'd been tailing him get beaten to a pulp, and even discovered a potential talent!
He paused at that last thought, glancing at Orion over his shoulder. That final strike had been a shock—from that distance, Ashka couldn't be sure, but if he had to guess... Orion had "broken his limits." Not through magic—just sheer, brutal force of will.
But how?
...
Eh, no point overthinking it. He wasn't exactly a scholar of human anatomy. Maybe the kid just got lucky with that one hit.
Ashka kept walking until he left the back alleys, reaching Central's Front.
Compared to the slums, Central Front might as well have been another world—no trash on the streets, intact buildings, well-dressed people, no stench.
Here, Ashka's handsome face and dignified aura didn't stand out as much—but even among these people, he was special.
He stopped in front of a luxury hotel, its sign reading "Gentle Palace."
The motion sensor detected him, and the door slid open. Inside, the place gleamed, light reflecting off pristine white walls.
A man in a white uniform matching the hotel approached.
"Good afternoon, Sir Ashka. How was your day?"
Ashka ignored the question. "Is Dina back?" he asked, bored.
"Lady Dina returned just a short while ago."
Ashka nodded and headed for the stairs to Dina's room. Along the way, he passed multiple rooms with doors wide open. When they'd arrived in Central, Ashka had rented rooms for himself and his crew—these were theirs.
He grunted. So disrespectful! Just because nobody would dare steal from a Sparkling didn't mean they could leave their doors open. That was just bad manners.
With a flick of his hand, a gust of wind rushed through the hallway, slamming every door shut—including ones he hadn't rented, startling their occupants.
'Whoops...' Ashka thought.
He climbed two more floors, turned down a hallway, and stopped at a door.
Knock.
A few seconds passed before footsteps approached from inside, followed by a voice—"Coming!" It was feminine, melodious, beautiful. Ashka, however, was unfazed. He'd heard it too many times.
The knob turned, and the door opened, revealing a dark-skinned woman with large, black eyes and lustrous curly hair. Her beauty was otherworldly, like a figure from legend. This was Dina.
When she spoke, it was like hearing a lovely melody: "Captain! Welcome back. Done with work?"
Ashka held Orion out in front of her.
She stared at what looked like a dead child. Then she glared at Ashka, accusation in her eyes.
Ashka sighed. "You bastard, no! He's alive—fix him!"
"He's alive?!" She snatched the boy from Ashka's arms and carried him inside, laying him on her bed. Pressing an ear to his chest, she heard the faint heartbeat and shallow breaths. "What happened?!" she demanded.
"In my defense, he did this to himself."
She shot him the same accusatory look.
"I'm serious! All I said was 'beat that Aspirant Sparkling,' and he started breaking his own body to do it! Completely unnecessary." Ashka shook his head, as if disappointed in Orion. Like it was no big deal.
Dina stood up, furious.
"WHAT?! You sent a child to fight a Sparkling?!"
"Aspirant," Ashka corrected.
"I DON'T CARE! That's still someone with spiritual power! Look at him! Why would you do that?! If you hadn't saved him, he'd be dead!" She was livid. After all these years, she'd never thought her captain capable of this. He was reckless, unconventional—but this?
"But I didn't help him though?" Ashka said with a confused expression.
Which made Dina confused.
"He beat the Aspirant."