The night sky hung heavy over the camp, stars flickering like distant beacons. Despite the stillness, Khalid's mind was anything but calm. The memory of Kenshin's sudden transformation during the battle played over and over in his thoughts. That surge of power, the uncharacteristic speed and confidence—Khalid had fought beside Kenshin enough to know something was different. It felt like he was fighting alongside a different person entirely.
Unable to sleep, Khalid slipped out of his tent and quietly made his way to where Kenshin lay resting. Gently, he shook Kenshin awake. "Kenshin, we need to talk," Khalid whispered, urgency in his voice.
Kenshin, still groggy, sat up. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.
Khalid led him away from the camp, to a secluded spot beneath a canopy of trees. "Back there, on the battlefield… You weren't yourself. That power, the way you moved. It was like you were someone else. Do you remember anything?"
Kenshin furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "I remember darkness, a void. And then... two voices. I couldn't see them, but I could feel their presence. They were powerful, like gods." He paused, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. "They said something about protection and light, but I don't remember much more. Everything else is a blur."
Khalid stared at him, a mix of concern and awe in his eyes. "Kenshin, do you realize what this means? If those voices were gods... that kind of power—"
Kenshin shook his head. "I don't want to think about it right now. I don't know what's happening to me, and that scares me. But I have to believe that whatever is inside me, it's meant to protect us."
Khalid nodded, though the uncertainty lingered in his mind. He placed a reassuring hand on Kenshin's shoulder. "We'll figure this out. Together."
Back at the camp, the night was silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Darius lay on his bedroll, unable to sleep. Pain throbbed through his body, and his wounds, still raw from the day's fight, refused to let him rest. Evelyn sat beside him, her eyes filled with concern.
"You look like you have a lot on your mind," she said softly.
Darius sighed, turning to look at her. "Evelyn, there's something I've never told anyone. I need you to promise me you won't say anything."
Evelyn nodded. "Of course. What is it?"
Darius hesitated before speaking, his voice low. "I have a blessing... or maybe a curse. My blood isn't normal. Anyone who drinks it gains strength, speed, energy. But... that's not the worst part."
He paused, then pulled up his shirt, revealing a patchwork of scars across his torso. "These are from my family. If I can even call them that. They saw my blood as a way to gain power, to climb the ranks and curry favor with the king. They locked me up, tortured me, drained me to feed my blood to my siblings, to make them stronger. I was just a tool to them, a means to an end."
Evelyn's eyes widened with shock and anger. "Darius, I had no idea. I'm so sorry. No one should have to go through that."
Darius's face hardened. "It's in the past now. But every time I see my own blood, it's a reminder of what they did to me. That's why I fight. Not just for myself, but for those who can't fight back. I don't want anyone to suffer like I did."
Evelyn reached out, taking his hand in hers. "You're not alone anymore, Darius. We're your family now. We'll fight with you, no matter what."
As the night wore on, the camp slowly fell into silence. Khalid and Kenshin returned, their conversation lingering in the air like an unspoken promise. Darius and Evelyn stayed by each other's side, finding solace in shared pain and understanding. The next challenge loomed ahead, but for now, in the quiet of the night, they found a brief moment of peace.