The forest swallowed them both, the air tense with the feeling that something far more dangerous than a comedic chase was about to unfold.
Genzu vaulted over a mossed trunk with ease, his movements playful yet deliberate. His eyes, beneath their lazy droop, sharpened with an old predator's focus.
"(So, this is the half-voidborn kid… the one Master Isen spoke of.)"
The memory came back, clear as firelight.
…
[Flashback]
Isen had been sitting cross-legged beneath the shade of a great oak, his golden hair touched with the wind. His eyes, as always, carried weight hidden behind warmth.
"Before you go, I want you to look after something for me."
Genzu, sprawled on the grass with a jug of rice wine, raised a brow.
"Something? Don't tell me you're giving me chores now, old friend."
Isen's smile didn't waver.
"Not chores. A kid."
The monk choked on his drink, coughing violently.
