Nicolas stood frozen, staring into Renrou's faintly glowing eyes, still locked in his monstrous form. But in that brief flicker of recognition, hope sparked in his chest. It was faint, fragile, but it was enough to drive him forward.
He took a deep breath, letting his racing thoughts calm. Slowly, he knelt down beside Garen, who was still on his knees, his face streaked with grief and exhaustion. The air around them was thick with the metallic tang of blood, and the faint, coppery scent mingled with the smell of damp earth. The broken walls of the small room creaked under the weight of their silence, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Nicolas placed a hand gently on Garen's shoulder. "Uncle, we can't give up. I saw something just now… in Renrou. He's still in there." His voice was quiet but firm, the weight of determination settling over him.
Garen looked up, his tear-streaked face lined with sorrow. The elder man's lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no words came. His hand trembled as he clutched his wounded side, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the torment in his heart. He had already said goodbye to his son in his mind, already accepted the reality that Renrou was gone. But now, hearing Nicolas's words, hope began to stir again, albeit cautiously, as if afraid to fully take root.
"Are you sure?" Garen's voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. His eyes flickered toward the creature before them—his son—still standing in that terrible, twisted form, the image tearing at his heart.
Nicolas nodded. "He's still in there, Uncle. But we need to act fast. I don't know how long I can keep him from losing control again."
The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive. Outside, the village remained unnaturally still, as though the world itself had paused in the wake of the battle. The Blood Moon hung low in the sky, its eerie red glow casting long, distorted shadows through the cracks in the walls. Every breath felt labored, as if the very air was thickened by the tension in the room.
For a moment, they were silent, the weight of the task ahead of them bearing down like a crushing force. They had to find a way to bring Renrou back, but how? No one had ever reversed a Wesen transformation, especially one this complete.
Garen wiped the tears from his face, his jaw tightening. "What do we do? How can we bring him back?" His voice was hoarse, broken, as though the hope was both a relief and a torment.
Nicolas looked between Garen and the towering creature that was Renrou, his mind racing. He didn't have the answers. The power that had surged through him earlier—the strange force he barely understood—had connected him to Renrou's mind, but it was fragile. He couldn't maintain it for long. His mental power was already beginning to wane.
"I… I don't know," Nicolas admitted, his voice tight with frustration. "But we need to try something. Anything."
Renrou's form remained still, his glowing eyes flickering with traces of humanity beneath the feral rage. The sight was both haunting and heartbreaking. This wasn't just a mindless beast—this was Renrou, their friend, their family. They couldn't lose him.
The silence stretched on, the weight of their helplessness bearing down. Then Nicolas's eyes lit up with an idea. "What if… what if Renrou tries to take control himself?" he suggested, his voice breaking the stillness. "I can't hold the creature much longer… but maybe Renrou can fight back from the inside, take control of his body again."
Garen blinked, the faintest glimmer of hope rekindling in his eyes. "You think that could work?"
"It's a long shot," Nicolas admitted. "But if Renrou can hear us in there, if he can feel his own presence, he might be able to fight his way back. He just needs to try. We need to guide him."
Garen turned his gaze toward his son—the son he had thought lost forever. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, but the old hunter steeled himself. "Renrou," he called softly, his voice filled with a father's love, strained but steady. "Son, if you're still in there… you need to fight. You're stronger than this. Come back to us."
There was no immediate response, no sign of recognition. Renrou's monstrous form remained still, the room suffused in a suffocating stillness, the red glow from the Blood Moon washing over everything like a sickly haze. But Nicolas could feel it—a subtle shift in the air, a ripple in the connection he shared with the creature.
"He's in there," Nicolas murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Renrou… you have to fight back. Take control. I can't hold you forever."
The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. The pressure on Nicolas's mind was growing unbearable, his energy nearly drained from keeping the beast at bay. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain the hold.
Then, something shifted.
The monstrous form before them twitched, its claws flexing slightly. Renrou's glowing eyes, wild and feral, blinked once, then twice. His breath came out in a low, guttural growl, but the edges of his form seemed to tremble as though something within him was stirring.
"I… I think it's working," Nicolas breathed, his voice tight with effort. "He's trying."
Garen's heart leapt in his chest. "Renrou, come on! You can do this!" His voice cracked with desperation. "Come back to us!"
Slowly, painfully, the creature began to move—not in an attack, but in a struggle. Renrou's body jerked and spasmed, as if something deep inside was fighting to break free. His claws dug into the dirt floor, his muscles tensing and relaxing in rapid succession. His breath came in ragged gasps, and the faint glow in his eyes flickered like a candle struggling against the wind.
Hours seemed to pass as they watched, their breaths held in anticipation. Every time Renrou's body seemed to relax, he would jerk violently again, as if the beast inside him was raging against his will. Nicolas's power continued to push against the creature's instincts, but he could feel it slipping, little by little.
Just as Nicolas felt he could no longer hold on, something miraculous happened. Renrou's form began to shift—not violently, but slowly, deliberately. His claws retracted, his hunched, beast-like posture straightened, and the fur that covered his body started to recede.
Nicolas and Garen watched in stunned silence as Renrou's monstrous form gradually melted away, his human features returning, his body shrinking and reshaping until, at last, he stood before them—not as a Wesen, but as himself.
Renrou blinked, his human eyes wide with shock. His skin was pale, his body trembling with exhaustion, but he was whole. He looked down at his hands, now free of claws, and let out a shaky breath.
"I… I did it," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Garen let out a choked sob of relief, tears streaming down his face once more, but this time they were tears of joy. He rushed forward, pulling his son into a tight embrace, his shoulders shaking with emotion.
Nicolas, still kneeling, stared at his friend in disbelief. He had hoped, he had prayed—but to see Renrou standing there, human once again, was a miracle beyond anything he could have imagined.
The room was still, the tension that had filled the air slowly dissipating, replaced by a sense of overwhelming relief. Outside, the village remained quiet, unaware of the miracle that had just taken place.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they allowed themselves to hope.
Renrou was back.