CHAPTER 181: MAKE THINGS RIGHT (1)

Chapter 181

A young man in all black walked slowly through the shattered streets of Serenya. His hair, perfectly split—half white, half black— was unmistakable. Everyone knew who he was.

Han, the leader of the Trydt Guild.

The young master of Serenya.

But today... he looked nothing like himself.

His face was pale, expressionless, drained of all emotion. He walked like a ghost—not with pride, not with strength, but with a weight so heavy it dragged his soul behind him. The street was still lined with ruins, barely beginning to recover from the chaos that had turned the once-beautiful city into a scarred battlefield.

As he passed by, the citizens—those brave enough to be outside—looked away. Some trembled.

Gone were the cheerful greetings, the warm waves.

Now, there was only fear.

They didn’t see the young master anymore.

They saw a monster.

"Young Master..." a soft voice called.

A girl with short pink hair, barely in her teens, stepped out from the shadows. Her voice shook as she walked toward him, ignoring the whispers around her.

They say he’s gone mad...

They say he’s a psychopath now...

They say he nearly destroyed his own guild—his own people...

They say Serenya lies in ruins because of him...

But she didn’t believe the rumors.

She couldn’t believe them.

She stepped in front of Han, blinking back tears. His eyes were empty, hollow—devoid of life. She searched them for a flicker of the man she once admired.

"Is it true?" she whispered. "All those things they’re saying about you... It can’t be. You’re kind... I don’t believe a word of it!"

Han stopped.

He looked at her—expression still blank—and then lowered his gaze to the cracked earth beneath his feet.

"...Yes," he said quietly, voice low and heavy. "Everything they said... is true."

The girl froze. The wind seemed to pause with her.

"I caused all of this..." Han continued. "I brought destruction to my own guild. I nearly killed the people I swore to protect. If I hadn’t been stopped three days ago..." His voice faltered. "I would’ve killed them all—friends, allies... the citizens. Everyone."

Even saying it made his chest tighten with unbearable guilt.

He remembered it too vividly.

The rage.

The bloodlust.

The loss of control.

He could still feel the power roaring in his veins—so close to consuming him.

Then came the memory that hurt the most.

Laura.

His sister had nearly died. In fact, by all logic—she should have.

But somehow, by some miracle, she lived.

When Han was told how she survived, he was left shaken and speechless. At the very moment that deadly yellow energy had pierced her chest, her body had reacted on its own—her organs transforming into a storm of icy energy, freezing the blast before it could reach her heart.

But the price had been steep.

She survived...

Yet she hasn’t woken up since.

She remained in a coma—cold, still, silent.

Han had spent every day by her side.

Speaking to her.

Hoping.

Begging for her to return.

And yet, as he stood in the middle of his ruined city, facing the frightened eyes of his people, he wondered if there was anything left of him worth bringing her back to.

Han stood frozen, the weight of uncertainty crushing his every breath.

Right now, he felt utterly lost.

He didn’t know what path to take.

What words to say.

What future to chase.

Roanan and the others were alive—thanks to Mia—but even then, Han couldn’t bring himself to face them.

How could he?

What would he say?

"Sorry for almost killing you all?"

Even that felt meaningless. His heart was a storm of regret and confusion, his mind drifting in a sea of shame.

The young girl standing before him watched quietly. Her eyes shimmered—not just with sadness, but with the struggle of holding back tears. She could barely keep herself from crying.

Han looked at her, tried to form a smile...

But it came out as nothing more than a broken attempt.

"Don’t... bother with a man like me," he said, voice low. "Go back to the others. I’m just a lost cause now."

The girl shook her head, fiercely.

"You’re wrong, Young Master!" she cried. "You’re a good man—probably the best man I’ve ever known! But... you’re also human."

Her voice trembled. But then, as she continued, a soft calmness began to surface in her tone—like a light flickering through the fog.

"And humans... make mistakes. That doesn’t erase who you are."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stepped closer.

"Don’t let your mistakes define you. Please... don’t lose yourself because of one moment."

Han felt something stir in his chest—a sharp, painful twist that dug deeper than any blade. Her words pierced right through his despair.

"...What do you think I should do?" he whispered, almost inaudible.

The girl wiped her tears and looked him in the eyes. Her voice, now strong with hope, answered:

"You make things right."

Those words struck him like thunder.

Make things right.

The simplicity of it shook him. That was all it came down to—not erasing the past, but making up for it.

Even now, though, Han couldn’t fully grasp what "right" meant for someone like him.

Someone who had nearly lost everything... and nearly destroyed everyone.

He looked up at the sky. The sun’s rays warmed his face, soft and golden.

Then he exhaled. Slowly. Deeply.

And turned back to the girl with a sincere, quiet smile.

"...I’ll try," he said gently. "I’ll make things right."

She nodded, satisfied, and slowly walked away—leaving Han alone once more.

But not as lost as before.

As she disappeared from view, Han added silently:

"...Whatever that may be."

Because some part of him still didn’t know what the right thing even looked like.

But he knew he had to try.

---

And today...

Today was the funeral.

All the young heroes who had died defending Serenya were being laid to rest—including Ron.

Han had avoided everything. For days now, he couldn’t bring himself to face it.

But he had to.

Because whether the world forgave him or not... their deaths were his responsibility.

---

To be continued...

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