Normally, the Supreme Council would have scolded Scar somehow, but not this time. When he was summoned after his duel with Storm, there was only a threat. He must fight using his Inheritance, always. If he didn't, he'd lose his head.
Initially, he thought they wouldn't have time to deal with him, considering the academy was currently under heavy threat.
Many years ago, a man who called himself Baal and claimed to serve an unknown entity inherited the Breath of Hell. The same Inheritance that Adisa, Scar's childhood friend, currently possessed.
Initially, Baal was a dedicated student and Moon Killer, going on missions to eliminate Scarlet Kins. Everything changed when he and his squad battled a Hostile-level threat Daywalker. After that fight, he renamed himself Baal and proclaimed he served a powerful being.
Floating above Durban, the Fifth District, he sent devastating wind slashes raining down, destroying everything and killing dozens. He declared the world should have ended on the Red Day and felt duty-bound to make it so.
His reign of terror was stopped when his rival, the bearer of the Owner of All, one of the Founders of Magic, used spatial magic to imprison him. Unfortunately, sealing Baal didn't destroy Breath of Hell.
The Inheritance had returned and was now held by someone whose recklessness Scar had witnessed personally.
Adisa had been fleeing ever since he interrupted Scar's duel nearly a day ago. But the pieces didn't fit. Adisa showed signs of possession too, but acted nothing like the others who'd been possessed recently. If Adisa wasn't the possessor, then who was?
The question remained unanswered, but right now Scar had more immediate concerns. His uncle Arthur had taken him to his residence, partly connected to the main Rover family estate.
The entire Rover compound was nearly twice the size of the Supreme Academy, yet despite this, they weren't wealthy. Not even considered extremely rich. Just powerful and influential.
"Your father left when he married your mother. He didn't like many of us… and he certainly didn't like your grandparents."
Arthur said as he led Scar through a corridor that resembled a museum more than a walkway.
Scar's attention shifted from artwork to artwork, hands tucked in his pockets, mentally tallying what each piece must cost.
He cared less about the Rover family. They didn't know that he was one of them anyway.
However, something made him freeze mid-step, mouth dropping open. Between two sculptures on the wall hung a painting: a man who looked barely alive and a child smiling with a gap where two front teeth should be.
He gestured toward the painting.
"Wait… that's me… and the old man?!"
Arthur turned to the painting. Seeing Scar's perplexed face, he laughed.
"I think so, lad. That's definitely you."
"But how?"
As Arthur said it, Scar remembered. He'd been duped into sitting for almost two hours. Isaac had bribed him with promises of a revenge weapon and ice cream treats, but the catch was that he had to stay put until the painting was done.
He'd only ever gotten the ice cream out of that deal, and now here was the painting at last. Arthur had kept it all this time.
But then he looked down at the sword hanging at his waist in its sheath. Isaac really had given him everything he'd promised back then. Scar would honor his memory, whatever it took.
Arthur frowned.
"He didn't want this for you. He wanted you to live free… without hatred. But he always saw that anger in your eyes."
He smiled and gestured for Scar to follow.
"In the end, he believed in you—more than anyone ever did. He knew you were capable. But you must understand: vengeance alone will never heal you."
Following Arthur along the seemingly endless balcony, they came to a stone-walled training courtyard. The courtyard floor was an open square of tile, filled with wooden training dummies positioned in orderly rows.
Everything needed for training was there: weapon racks, practice benches, and the Rover family emblem adorning the walls.
White and blue, it showed a single eye containing multiple smaller eyes, pierced and surrounded by sharp, cross-like spikes. What should have been creepy was somehow elegant and refined.
Scar gulped, struck by how enormous the room was. It was large enough to accommodate at least a thousand.
"It was just built, and your cousins trained here. So… when do you want to meet them? Soon?"
A shiver ran through Scar. He remembered a few cousins, but because of his reputation, none had been friendly. Not even Amber, Arthur's daughter.
Arthur turned to him and laughed.
"What's with that face? Don't worry… everyone's grown up now. They won't even know who you are. Only the little ones might get to see you train, and I bet they'd rather be your friend than make fun of you."
Scar exhaled slowly. He wondered where Amber was, though truthfully, just being on the Rover family grounds was making him uneasy.
"You know I'm not a Rover anymore, right? My father changed everything. Now I'm Scar Hide."
Arthur stroked his beard, eyes slightly narrowed.
"Are you sure about that, kid?"
Scar clenched his fists. They shook as the words died in his throat. His parents were Rovers, and nothing could make him renounce that name, not even to escape his hunters. The records could say whatever they wanted, but to himself, he was both a Hide and a Rover.
Arthur patted him on the shoulder.
"You'll always be a Rover, kid. Your father might've hated us, but he knew the truth: our bloodline is never to abandon one of our own."
Arthur wore a big grin.
"Whenever you're ready, you just have to say it. I'd be happy to give you the Rover name."
It was too much to ask. Taking the Rover name meant dropping Hide. To change everything to Rover right after Isaac's death? It felt wrong on every level.
Hm.
"I'll think about it… but he's my father, you know."
Arthur didn't pursue it further. Instead, they started joking around, the easy banter nearly matching the relationship Scar had with Isaac.
Then Arthur asked something with such casualness, as if he'd already made peace with the weight of it.
"Tell me… you already know who killed your parents. And you know why."
Scar furrowed his brow.
"How did you know?"
The old man shrugged.
"It's obvious. You've always been careful about your environment, and you're still doing it now."
Scar thought it over. Arthur was another holder of one of the Founders of Magic, his Inheritance said to have burned thrice as hot as the sun in his prime. This godlike figure could save him.
He didn't have to think much.
"Yes… it's Dain. Dain Vorn Zaireth. He's after my Inheritance. His ability killed every one of my predecessors."
Desperation shone plainly in his eyes, as if he were looking at his salvation.
"You can keep him occupied, right? I want to beat him myself… but you're one of the strongest people alive."
Arthur appeared threatened for a moment but burst into laughter barely a second later.
"I am old and rusty, boy. I can't hold a candle to Dain right now."
He held his waist and posed like an omnipotent god.
"That's exactly why you're here, Scar. I promised both of your fathers I would make you into a man worthy of their names… one that everyone fears."
Scar blinked, confused for a second, before his expression changed entirely.
'Whoa, that's so cool.'
He was ready for it all. After all, he had nothing to lose.
"We begin today. First, the basics every warrior must master. After that, we'll speak of your Inheritance. But remember, my guidance has a price. And the storm approaching is unlike any other."