Malachi walked with Shunjiro as far as the main corridor before stopping beside a narrow staircase near the east wing.
“The bath is upstairs,” he said. “Second door on the left after you reach the landing.”
Shunjiro looked toward the stairs.
“There is a bath up there?”
“There are several,” Malachi replied. “Use the private one near your room. The others have not been touched in years, and I would rather not explain what you might find in the pipes.”
Shunjiro stared at him.
“What would I find in the pipes?”
Malachi’s expression remained calm.
“I do not know.”
“That is worse.”
Malachi gave him a small nod toward the stairs.
“Go wash. Dinner is ready whenever you are.”
Shunjiro rested one hand over the hilt of the dagger at his side.
“Thank you.”
Malachi’s eyes moved briefly to the weapon before returning to Shunjiro.
“Do not thank me yet. You still have to learn how not to cut yourself with it.”
“I will be careful.”
“Good.”
With that, Malachi turned down another corridor, leaving Shunjiro alone beneath the weak glow of the lamps.
Shunjiro waited until the older man disappeared around the corner before heading upstairs.
The mansion was quiet again, but it no longer felt as hostile as it had when he first entered. The silence still carried weight, and the shadows still gathered in corners where the lamps could not reach, but now he knew there was someone inside the house. Someone who had cooked him food, given him a room, and placed a weapon in his hands without asking for anything in return.
That did not mean Shunjiro trusted everything.
He still did not know why the guest room had been cleaned. He still did not know how long Malachi had lived alone in this mansion, or what kind of person became one of the eight strongest people in the world and then chose to disappear into the Shadow Realm.
He reached the landing and found the bath exactly where Malachi had said it would be.
The door opened into a small private room lined with dark stone. A deep bath had been built into the floor near the far wall, and steam rose slowly from the water beneath a narrow window. A few lamps burned along the walls, their low light reflecting across the surface of the bath in soft gold streaks.
Fresh towels had been folded on a nearby bench.
Shunjiro stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
For a moment, he only stood there.
The room was warmer than the hallway. The air smelled faintly of soap, stone, and the steam drifting from the bath. It felt almost unreal after the cold forest, the ruined battlefield, and the endless pressure he had been carrying since Tsubasa took him.
He removed the cloak first and folded it carefully over the bench.
Then he unfastened the sheath from his waist.
The Devil’s Luck Dagger rested in his hand.
Even in the dim light, the darkfire metal looked sharp. Rough along the flat of the blade. Smooth along the edge. Heavy enough that he could still feel its weight in his palm.
His first weapon.
Shunjiro looked at it for another second before placing it carefully beside his folded clothes. He made sure the blade rested far from the edge of the bench before stepping away.
I need to learn how to use it before I start acting like it is part of me.
The thought almost made him smile.
He undressed and lowered himself into the water.
Heat rose around him immediately.
His muscles loosened before he could stop them. The tension in his shoulders began to fade, followed by the ache in his legs from the sparring session. He let out a breath and sank deeper until the water reached his chest.
The day returned to him piece by piece.
Malachi’s explanation about spiritual energy.
The realization that his power had not been disappearing because he lacked it, but because he had been shutting it away without realizing it.
The feeling of his energy flickering beneath his skin when he stopped trying to force it.
The dagger at his side.
The library waiting somewhere in the mansion.
Shunjiro leaned his head back against the edge of the bath.
I actually learned something today.
The thought brought a quiet warmth into his chest that had nothing to do with the water.
For so long, his energy had felt like a wall he could not climb. Other people had abilities they could name. Powers they could train. Yoshinori had lightning. Tetsuo had stone. Itsuki could heal. Ryuji could harden his body. Aiko could swap people from one place to another.
Shunjiro had always been different.
He had spiritual energy, but it had never behaved the way it should have. He had learned to fight with it because he had no other choice, but every improvement felt temporary. Every time he thought he understood himself, his energy found another way to disappear from him.
Now there was an explanation.
Not a complete one.
But enough.
Tomorrow, I might understand more.
He lowered himself beneath the water until it covered his mouth.
The sound of the room faded.
For several seconds, there was only the dull rush of water around his ears and the slow beat of his heart.
Then Itsuki entered his thoughts.
Shunjiro rose back above the surface and wiped water from his face.
The quiet confidence he had felt a moment earlier weakened.
He looked toward the empty space beside the bath.
“I got a weapon today,” he said softly.
His voice sounded strange in the small room.
He knew Itsuki was not there.
He knew she could not hear him.
But speaking made the distance feel slightly less impossible.
“It is a dagger,” he continued. “Malachi made it himself.”
He looked toward the bench where the blade rested beside his clothes.
“It is called the Devil’s Luck Dagger. It has this effect where it can make a hit stronger sometimes. He said I cannot rely on it, but…” Shunjiro paused. “I think it could help.”
He rested both arms along the edge of the bath.
“Malachi thinks my energy is an ability.”
The words came out quieter.
“He thinks I can turn it off completely. Not just hide it. Actually make it disappear.”
Shunjiro stared at the water.
“I do not really understand it yet.”
His fingers moved slowly through the surface, sending small ripples toward the stone edge.
“But maybe that is why I have always struggled. Maybe I have been holding it back without knowing.”
He let out a small breath.
“I think I can figure it out.”
The bath remained silent.
Shunjiro’s eyes lowered.
“I have to.”
The thought of Itsuki sitting somewhere in Radiance hurt more now than it had before.
She could have believed he was dead.
She might still believe it.
His chest tightened.
“I should be there with you,” he said.
The words barely carried beyond the bath.
“I should have been there after everything happened. You should not have had to watch all of that alone.”
He swallowed.
“I know I did not leave you on purpose. I know Tsubasa took me.”
The water trembled faintly around his arms as his hands tightened beneath the surface.
“But that does not make it easier.”
For a moment, Shunjiro could not find anything else to say.
He lowered himself until the water reached his chin.
Thinking about her hurts.
He wanted to return immediately. He wanted to leave the mansion, run through the forest, force his way back through the barriers, and keep moving until he reached Radiance.
But Malachi had been right.
If he rushed home as he was, he would still be the same person Tsubasa had taken from the battlefield.
Weak enough to be removed without being able to stop it.
Unprepared to protect the people he wanted to save.
Shunjiro closed his eyes.
I need to believe she is strong enough to hold on.
The thought felt cruel at first.
Itsuki had already been forced to be strong too many times.
But believing in her strength was not the same as leaving her alone.
It was trusting that she could survive until he returned.
Trusting that the people around her would not let her fall.
Trusting that he could come back strong enough that she would never have to carry everything by herself again.
“I am coming back,” he whispered.
His eyes remained closed.
“And when I do, I am going to be strong enough that you will not have to fight anymore.”
The words were not a promise he could guarantee.
But they were the direction he needed.
Shunjiro sank under the water again.
This time, he stayed beneath the surface for several long seconds, letting the warmth cover him completely.
When he came back up, he felt calmer.
He washed quickly after that, then climbed from the bath and dried himself with one of the folded towels. The room felt cooler outside the water, but the warmth stayed in his skin as he dressed.
He picked up the dagger last.
For a moment, he held it carefully in both hands before fastening the sheath around his waist again.
The weight returned to his side.
Familiar already.
Shunjiro placed the cloak over his shoulders and left the bath.
By the time he reached the kitchen, the scent of dinner had already filled the hallway.
The room was warmer than the rest of the mansion, lit by a pair of lamps above the long wooden counter. Malachi stood beside the stove with his sleeves rolled up, placing food onto two plates. A pot rested nearby, steam drifting slowly from beneath its lid.
He glanced over as Shunjiro entered.
“You found it.”
“The bath?”
“No,” Malachi said. “The kitchen. Though I suppose both are impressive achievements.”
Shunjiro looked at him.
“I followed the smell.”
“That is a reasonable strategy.”
Malachi set the plates on a smaller table near the window. Dinner was simple but warm: roasted vegetables, rice, seasoned meat, and a small bowl of soup beside each place setting.
Shunjiro sat down across from him.
For a few minutes, they ate quietly.
The silence was more comfortable than it had been the night before. Shunjiro still felt cautious around Malachi, but the older man’s presence no longer put him on edge in the same way. There was something steady about him.
Not easy to read.
But steady.
Shunjiro took another bite before speaking.
“Malachi?”
“Yes?”
“Could you show me the library after dinner?”
Malachi looked up.
“The library?”
“I saw it earlier when I was walking around.” Shunjiro glanced down at his food for a moment before looking back up. “There were a lot of books. I was wondering if there was anything in there that could help me understand more about the world.”
Malachi rested his spoon against the edge of his bowl.
“What kind of things?”
“I do not know yet,” Shunjiro admitted. “The Shadow Realm. The other continents. Spiritual energy. Maybe things you think I should know.”
Malachi studied him for a moment.
Then he nodded.
“That is a good idea.”
Shunjiro’s expression lifted slightly.
“You will show me?”
“Yes.” Malachi took another bite of his food. “Strength without knowledge creates people who make the same mistakes with more force behind them. You will need both.”
Shunjiro nodded.
“I understand.”
Malachi’s mouth lifted faintly.
“Good. Finish eating. Then I will show you the books I think are worth reading before you decide to bury yourself under a pile of history.”
Shunjiro almost smiled.
The warmth of the kitchen settled around them as they continued eating.
After dinner, Malachi took a lamp from the kitchen wall and led Shunjiro back through the mansion.
The halls were quieter now. The warmth from the kitchen faded behind them with each turn, replaced by the cooler air that lingered in the older parts of the house. Shadows stretched along the walls, broken only by the soft glow of Malachi’s lamp and the smaller flames mounted in iron brackets along the corridor. Shunjiro followed beside him rather than behind him this time.
The library waited beyond them.
Malachi pushed one door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.
The lamp light spread across the room, revealing the long tables, the towering shelves, and the ladders resting against rows of books that reached almost to the ceiling. The shadows between the shelves made some sections look endless, as though the room continued farther than the walls should have allowed.
Shunjiro stepped in slowly.
The smell of old paper returned immediately.
It was stronger now that the room had warmed slightly beneath the lamp. Dust, leather, ink, and wood all mixed together into something that felt strangely comforting. The mansion itself felt lonely, but the library felt full. Not with people, but with proof that people had once thought, argued, studied, recorded, and tried to understand the world before Shunjiro ever entered it.
His eyes moved across the shelves.
“There are so many,” he said quietly.
“There are,” Malachi replied.
“You have read all of them?”
“Most.”
Shunjiro looked at him.
Malachi’s expression remained calm.
“I have had time.”
Shunjiro did not ask how much time. He wanted to, but the question felt too personal for now. Malachi had already shared enough for one day, and Shunjiro could sense the places where the older man’s past became something closed behind a door.
Instead, he looked back at the shelves.
“I do not even know where to start.”
“That is why I am here.”
Malachi placed the lamp on the nearest table, then walked deeper into the room without hesitation. He did not scan the shelves the way Shunjiro would have. He moved as though the library were part of his memory, passing history, geography, and old records without needing to read the labels.
“Power is important,” Malachi said. “You already understand that much. You would not be here if power did not matter.”
Shunjiro followed him between the shelves.
“But power alone makes people reckless,” Malachi continued. “A person who becomes strong without learning anything about the world is only dangerous in a louder way.”
“I think I understand,” he said.
“You understand the beginning of it,” Malachi replied. “That is good enough for today.”
He reached a wide section of shelves where the books looked older than most of the others. Some had titles written in faded gold across their spines. Others were wrapped in protective leather straps, their corners worn from use.
“If you want to grow properly, you need knowledge as much as training. You need to understand the land you come from, the lands beyond it, and the kind of people who shape history before they appear in front of you with a sword.”
Shunjiro glanced at him.
“That sounded specific.”
“It usually is.”
Malachi kept walking.
“I think you should start by learning about the world itself. Not dungeon rankings or combat techniques. Not yet. You need the larger picture first.”
Shunjiro looked around the library again.
“The world itself,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“Should I start with the Light Continent?”
Malachi nodded.
“That would be wise. You should understand your home before you try to understand everywhere else.”
Shunjiro slowed slightly.
“I know the basic history. I learned some of it in school.”
“I am sure you did.”
“You say that like it is not enough.”
“It is not.”
Shunjiro looked at him.
Malachi stopped beside one shelf and glanced back.
“School teaches what it can. Names. Dates. Borders. The kind of facts that fit neatly into lessons. That kind of knowledge has value, but it is not the same as knowing how a place breathes.”
Shunjiro was quiet for a moment.
“How a place breathes?”
“How people live there. What they fear. What they respect. What they pretend not to see.” Malachi tapped one finger lightly against the shelf beside him. “A map tells you where a continent is. It does not tell you what kind of person survives there.”
The words stayed with Shunjiro.
He had always believed knowledge mattered, but most of what he had learned about the world outside Radiance had been distant. The four continents had felt like names from lessons rather than places filled with people, danger, and history.
“I know the four continent names,” he said. “But I do not know much beyond that.”
“Then we will begin there.”
Malachi turned and continued down the aisle.
“The Light Continent, of course, is where you are from. It has many kingdoms, but Radiance stands above the rest because it is home to one of the eight Great Kings.”
“King Shadis Solmere,” Shunjiro said.
Malachi nodded.
“One of the strongest rulers alive, and the reason Radiance is considered the capital of the Light Continent. The continent has a reputation for order, politics, and civilization. It is not peaceful in the way people like to imagine, but compared to certain other lands, its conflicts wear cleaner clothing.”
Shunjiro thought of the Summer Festival, the bright streets, the market, the knights, and Radiance Castle rising above the city in white and gold. It was strange to hear Malachi speak of it from the outside. To Shunjiro, Radiance had always been the center of the world. To Malachi, it was one piece of a much larger whole.
“You have been there?” Shunjiro asked.
“A few times. I have had less business there than in the other three,” Malachi said. “That is not an insult. It is a beautiful land, and Radiance is impressive. I simply had fewer reasons to remain there.”
Shunjiro nodded slowly.
“What about the others?” Shunjiro asked.
Malachi reached the end of one aisle and turned into another.
“The Cosmic Continent is covered in snow throughout the year. Some regions are calm enough to live in comfortably, but others are swallowed by storms so severe that entire roads vanish for weeks. Anyone who travels there without preparation learns quickly that cold can kill as surely as a blade.”
Shunjiro tried to imagine a continent where snow never left.
He had seen winter before, but nothing like what Malachi described. Endless white land. Buried roads. Wind strong enough to make even movement dangerous.
“Why is it called the Cosmic Continent?” he asked.
“There are several old explanations,” Malachi replied. “Some are history, some are faith, and some are probably lies that became more interesting than the truth. What matters for now is that the continent has produced many unusual bloodlines.”
“Bloodlines?”
“Yes. Families with spiritual traits that carry through generations. Some produce rare abilities. Some produce stronger spiritual energy from birth. Some create people who are simply different in ways no one fully understands.”
Shunjiro listened closely.
“The Cosmic Continent has the highest chance of producing people who become special,” Malachi continued. “Not always strong, though strength often follows. Special can mean many things. A rare ability, an unusual spiritual body, a bloodline that reacts differently to energy, or a person born with conditions that make them unlike everyone around them.”
Shunjiro thought about his own energy.
The ability to vanish spiritually.
The possibility that no one in history had done what Malachi believed he could do.
“Does that mean most strong people come from there?” he asked.
“Not most,” Malachi said. “But enough that the world pays attention.”
They moved past another shelf, and Malachi’s eyes flicked over the titles as though checking his own memory.
“The Nature Continent is different. Dense forests cover much of it, and the population is smaller than the other continents. There are fewer cities, fewer roads, and far more places where the land itself feels untouched.”
“That sounds peaceful.”
“It can be.” Malachi’s voice softened slightly. “It is also dangerous. The forests are beautiful, but they hide many dungeons, beasts, and stretches of land where travelers disappear because they thought beauty meant safety.”
Shunjiro looked over.
“You sound like you liked it there.”
“I did,” Malachi said. “Some of the most beautiful views in the world are on the Nature Continent. There are cliffs where the forests stretch so far beneath you that they look like green oceans. Rivers that shine under sunlight like they were made of glass. Trees so large that villages have been built around their roots instead of cutting them down.”
For a moment, Shunjiro could almost see it.
After the Shadow Realm, the image of a forest alive with sunlight felt impossible. The trees outside Malachi’s mansion were dead, their branches twisted against a black sky. The Nature Continent sounded like the opposite of this place.
“Still dangerous, though,” Shunjiro said.
“Very.”
“Of course.”
Malachi’s mouth lifted slightly.
“Never trust a beautiful place simply because it is beautiful.”
“I will remember that.”
“You should.”
They reached another section of the library, but Malachi did not stop yet.
“And then there is the Darkness Continent.”
The name alone made Shunjiro’s stomach tighten.
He knew it was foolish. He knew a name was only a name. But after waking in the Shadow Realm beneath a black sun, anything called the Darkness Continent felt like something he should be afraid of.
Malachi noticed.
“You look concerned.”
“It is called the Darkness Continent.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds like a reason to be concerned.”
Malachi laughed quietly.
“If anything, this place should have been called the Darkness Continent.”
Shunjiro glanced toward the dark windows at the far side of the library.
“The Shadow Realm is worse?”
“Infinitely.”
The answer came so plainly that Shunjiro did not know whether to feel comforted or not.
“The Darkness Continent is not the Shadow Realm,” Malachi continued. “It has rough terrain, harsh people, and dangerous lands, but it is still part of the living world.”
“What is it like?”
“It is split between desert and forest,” Malachi said. “A vast desert covers one side, filled with heat, ruins, creatures, and storms that can strip skin if a traveler is careless. The other side is a dark forest, though not dead like the trees here. The trees there are enormous, and their branches grow so thick that light barely reaches the ground in many places.”
“So it is actually dark.”
“In parts, yes. But even that forest is far brighter than the Shadow Realm.”
Shunjiro imagined a forest where sunlight existed but struggled to reach the ground. A place where the darkness came from life growing too large rather than life being drained away.
“Where do the desert and forest meet?” he asked.
Malachi’s expression changed slightly.
“In a perfectly straight line.”
Shunjiro frowned.
“What?”
“The continent is divided almost unnaturally. Desert on one side. Forest on the other. The border between them runs so straight that most people who see it for the first time ask the same question.”
“What question?”
“Who made it that way?”
Shunjiro looked at him.
“Do you know?”
“No.”
Malachi continued walking.
“The Darkness Continent has many kingdoms, just like the Light Continent. Its capital is the Kingdom of Shade, though power there does not always mean the same thing it means in Radiance.”
“What does it mean?”
“Might makes right.”
Shunjiro had heard the phrase before, but the way Malachi said it made it feel less like an idea and more like a law of survival.
“You mean that is their official rule?”
“No,” Malachi replied. “It is their reality. Laws exist. Kings exist. Courts, armies, guilds, merchants, all of it exists. But beneath every polite structure is the understanding that strength decides what people can get away with.”
Shunjiro stayed silent.
“Outsiders have a difficult time there,” Malachi said. “If someone enters without power, protection, or reputation, they are often treated like prey. Weakness invites challenge. In some places, mercy is considered foolish unless you have enough strength to afford it.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is harsh,” Malachi said. “It is also the birthplace of some of the strongest people in history.”
Shunjiro looked at him.
“I thought you said the Cosmic Continent produces special people more often.”
“It does.”
“Then the Darkness Continent does too?”
Malachi stopped near a tall shelf and turned to face him.
“The Cosmic Continent gives its people a greater chance to be born special. Bloodlines there produce rare traits more often. The Darkness Continent is the opposite in some ways. It has the smallest chance of producing someone truly special among the four continents.”
Shunjiro frowned.
“When it does,” Malachi said, “that person is often terrifying.”
The simple answer sent a chill through Shunjiro.
“Why?”
“Because the continent does not nurture strength gently. It tests it. The land is harsh, the dungeons are dangerous, and the culture rewards power above almost everything else. A person born special there is rarely allowed to remain soft.”
Shunjiro thought about that.
A place where the weak were treated as prey.
A place where dangerous people became stronger because everything around them demanded it.
Then another thought slipped into his mind.
Takeshi is probably there right now.
He remembered hearing that his brother had gone toward the Darkness Continent about a week before everything fell apart.
Now the thought carried a different weight.
If Takeshi is really there, he is walking through one of the harshest places in the world. But he’s also one of the eight EX ranks. If anyone could move through a continent built on strength, it’s him.
Shunjiro kept that thought to himself.
“The dark forest side of the Darkness Continent also holds the Yura Mountain Range,” he said.
Shunjiro looked up.
“The Yura Mountain Range?”
“The largest mountain range across all four continents. It cuts through the forest side like a wall of stone. Some peaks are so tall that storms gather around them for months. Others are filled with caves, ruins, and dungeons no sane person enters without accepting they may not come back.”
“Dungeons?”
“Many.”
“How dangerous?”
Malachi’s face became serious.
“Some are SSS-ranked.”
Shunjiro’s eyes widened slightly.
“More than one?”
“Yes.”
“And people go there?”
“Most people avoid them.”
“That sounds like Dungeon Valley.”
Malachi shook his head.
“No. Dungeon Valley is dangerous, but it is built around preparation. Adventurers go there because routes, guilds, officials, and mission structures exist to give them a chance. Yura is different.”
“How?”
“In Dungeon Valley, danger is organized enough for people to challenge it. In the Yura Mountain Range, danger does not care whether you are ready.”
Shunjiro absorbed that quietly.
The world felt larger with every answer Malachi gave.
Larger, and far more dangerous.
He had known dungeons could kill people. He had known kingdoms fought wars and powerful guilds shaped history. But hearing Malachi speak about entire continents this way made Shunjiro realize how small his understanding had been.
Radiance had felt enormous.
The Coastal Kingdom had felt overwhelming.
Now both seemed like pieces on a board he had barely known existed.
I know nothing.
Malachi seemed to read something in his face.
“That realization is useful,” he said.
Shunjiro blinked.
“What realization?”
“That the world is larger than you thought.”
Shunjiro looked away slightly and let out a slow breath.
“I thought I knew more than I did.”
“Everyone does at your age.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Shunjiro looked back at him, surprised by the honesty.
Malachi’s expression remained calm.
“Then the world corrected me. It does that often.”
They reached a shelf near the back of the library, where the books were arranged more neatly than in the sections around them. The titles were cleaner here, as though Malachi had returned to them many times over the years. Several volumes dealt with the Light Continent, Radiance, old kings, and political histories.
Malachi reached up without searching and pulled a thick book from the middle shelf.
Dust did not fall from it.
Shunjiro noticed that immediately.
“You knew exactly where it was.”
“I know my library.”
“You really have read most of these.”
“I told you I had.”
Malachi turned the book in his hands and looked at the cover before offering it to him.
The leather was dark blue, worn soft at the corners. Faded gold lettering had been pressed into the front, though some of the letters had dulled with age. Shunjiro took it carefully, surprised by its weight.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A book about King Kakai Soleil,” Malachi said. “The first king of Radiance.”
Shunjiro looked down at the cover.
He knew the name only vaguely. Kakai Soleil was one of those historical figures mentioned in school as a founder, a name attached to the beginning of the kingdom rather than a person who had lived, fought, ruled, and made choices that shaped everything after him.
“He founded Radiance?” Shunjiro asked.
“Yes. He was the first of twenty-eight kings.”
Shunjiro’s fingers tightened slightly around the book.
Twenty-eight kings.
Radiance had always felt permanent to him, as if it had existed in its current form forever. But it had started somewhere. With someone. With a person who had built the kingdom Shunjiro called home.
Malachi stepped back from the shelf.
“Start here,” he said. “Before you try to understand the rest of the world, learn where you come from.”