"I fell victim to the elaborate sches of the Cardils."
Samuel’s voice was laced with anger so palpable that Jethru could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Jethru sighed. The Cardil’s. They were the ones who frad him, which caused his imprisonnt and expulsion from the Zen Warriors Sect.
He had tried to explain everything to his master, but the evidence was so damning that even his master’s hands were tied.
"Master, you indulged Julian Cardil too much. That’s why this happened."
"I did not. I just treated him the sa way I treated you. It was just that he was too ambitious and harbored malicious intent."
"When you escaped, I continued investigating and discovered the evidence of you being frad. But what use was it? You were gone, and we don’t even know if you are still alive." Samuel said in an aggrieved voice.
"And why would I stay?" Jethru’s voice was low, bitter. "I am a wanted person, and my parents died in that fire. There was nothing left for in the capital." A forlorn look crossed over Jethru’s wrinkled face.
A heavy silence settled between them, thick as smoke.
Samuel exhaled slowly, then spoke, each word a dagger. "Your parents’ deaths were no accident."
Jethru felt the air leave his lungs. It was as if a bomb had been dropped and detonated before him. "What do you an, Master?"
"It was arson," Samuel said grimly. "The Cardils were behind it. They saw you as a threat to their son’s future. And they knew I was investigating."
Jethru clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"They covered their tracks well," Samuel continued, his voice shaking. "But Julian— he confessed. He thought I was at my lowest and had no strength to co back. By then, they had taken everything. My school, my properties... all of it, gone. Everything that I built with my sweat and blood." Samuel’s voice trembled with so much hate. "I treated him like my own son and trusted him, and yet ...."
Cough. Cough. Cough.
Samuel coughed violently, his frail body wracked with pain.
Jethru rushed forward. "Master, don’t think about it now. Eat so more. You need to recover your strength. I’ll brew your dicine."
Samuel watched as Jethru carefully scooped the congee, handing it to him with steady hands. The old master ate slowly, his face lined with sorrow.
Gazing at his cherished disciple, he felt a comforting sense of warmth spread through him. The al that was very ordinary tasted delicious, and the sensation of the nourishing food settling in his stomach brought a soothing relief, montarily lifting his spirits.
Jethru had more questions, but he bit them back, afraid of triggering another coughing fit. Instead, he focused on brewing the dicine, pouring the thick liquid into a bamboo tube after feeding his master a dose.
The dicine had a calming effect because Jethru added herbs that would induce sleep.
Soon, Samuel drifted into sleep.
Jethru turned to the boy who sat awkwardly beside the bed, his eyes full of worry. "Where were you with Master? When did you leave the capital?"
"He is our great-grandfather," the boy said softly. "We left three years ago. Grandpa was accused of treason, accused of colluding with Estalis spies. We had to run. We moved from town to town until we settled here two years ago." Alpha’s eyes sparkled as he struggled to keep the tears from falling.
"You are his grandchildren?" Jethru’s voice was solemn. He was montarily dazed, as if he rembered sothing.
"Our father’s na is Elijah." Alpha said, sadness crossing his face. "He died protecting us and our mother. If Grandpa hadn’t arrived in ti..." The boy trailed off, his voice heavy with grief.
Jethru barely heard the rest. His master had only one daughter—Naomi.
His heart pounded. "Your grandmother... what happened to her? Did she marry Julian Cardil?"
"No," the boy said, shaking his head. "Grandma told us our real grandfather died before our father was born. We never knew him. Grandma died in an accident when my father was seven years old."
Jethru’s body went rigid. A cold hand gripped his heart.
Naomi.
The only woman he had ever loved.
A thought crashed into his mind, wild and impossible. No. It couldn’t be.
But then—
A mory.
The night of the competition. His greatest victory turned into his greatest downfall.
The accusations. The betrayal. His sentencing.
They celebrated their victory in the martial arts competition hosted by the King of Northem. He was the grand champion.
It was the first ti that the Zen Warriors School won the championship. He was his master’s pride.
They were in the middle of the banquet when people from the king’s court barged in, accusing him of cheating in the most prestigious martial arts competition.
They brought in witnesses who testified that he took a strength enhancent pill, that’s why he was able to beat the master, who had been a champion for the past three years.
No matter how much he pleaded his innocence, the people who judged him did not bulge. His master exhausted all ans to prove his innocence, but he failed.
The King of Northem was so angry that he ordered his imprisonnt and execution.
Three nights before his execution, he received the news that his ho was razed by fire, killing his parents and the few servants living with them. He felt as if God had abandoned him.
Why would he punish him in such a way? What did he do wrong? Why would he take his family and everything he worked for?
Jethru was desolate at that ti. He was resigned to his death. There was nothing left for him to live for.
And then... Naomi ca. Visiting him in his prison cell, offering him the only comfort she could. A night filled with sorrow and desperation.
A night that should have never happened.
Jethru’s breathing turned shallow.
He stared at the boy before him.
A storm raged inside his chest.
No. It couldn’t be.
Could it?
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