For a moment, Lee Shin couldn't breathe.
The courtyard below blurred into streaks of motion — gray uniforms, glowing mana veins, and wet cobblestones — but all he could see was her.
Ryu Ahra.
His daughter.
Alive.
Her dark hair clung to her cheeks in the rain. Her hands trembled slightly, yet her stance was firm — chin lifted, eyes burning with defiance.
That fire… that stubborn light… he knew it.
He'd seen it before in a small girl who once refused to cry, even when she scraped her knees training with a wooden sword beside him.
Ahra…
Seven years. He'd died when she was nine.
Now she was sixteen — standing in front of bullies who jeered and spat the same poison he'd heard from the world long ago.
"Traitor's daughter!"
"Betrayer's blood!"
Their laughter cut through the courtyard like knives.
Shin's hands trembled. He could feel the ring's warmth pulsing through his veins, begging to be unleashed.
He wanted to tear them apart, to silence every single one of them.
But he couldn't. Not yet. Not here.
The boy standing in front of Ahra raised his sword — a tall student with silver-gray eyes and an expression of calm fury. He placed himself between her and the crowd like a shield.
"Leave Ryu Ahra alone," the boy said, voice steady. "You've done enough."
Shin froze.
That name — Ryu. His own name. His blood.
His heart slammed against his ribs. The world tilted, sound fading to a low hum.
Ahra… my Ahra…
And that boy — the way he moved, the way his mana flared and shaped around his blade — it was familiar too.
That stance. Those techniques.
Taemin's form…
The realization hit him like a physical blow.
That boy was Taemin's son, his old captain's child.
His daughter and his captain's son — standing together, cornered by the same cruelty that had once destroyed their fathers.
History was repeating itself.
By the time Shin's thoughts cleared, his body was already moving.
He rushed through the hallways, boots echoing against the marble floors, down the stairwell that led to the courtyard.
Rain drizzled down, soft and cold, by the time he reached them.
The bullies were scattering — Taemin's mana had flared enough to drive them off.
Ahra stood still, her shoulders trembling, tears barely held back.
"Are you okay?" the boy asked softly.
Ahra forced a nod. "Yeah… I'm used to it."
Her voice cracked.
Used to it.
Those three words shattered something deep inside Shin.
She'd grown used to this kind of treatment — because of him.
Because of the lies those bastards told.
Because of the betrayal that was never theirs.
He wanted to scream. To tell her the truth. To tell her who he really was.
Instead, he stepped forward. "That's enough."
Both Ahra and the boy turned toward him.
For a moment, her violet eyes met his — and everything stopped.
The ring pulsed once, softly.
He saw his own reflection in her gaze — not as Lee Shin, but as the man he used to be. The father she'd lost.
"Who are you?" Ahra asked, wary but not afraid.
Shin swallowed hard. His throat burned.
"I'm just someone who doesn't like seeing strength wasted on cruelty," he said quietly.
The boy narrowed his eyes. "You're from Class D, right? I saw your fight the other day."
"Maybe," Shin said with a faint shrug. "You both handled yourselves well. But remember — this place respects only one thing: power. You'll need more of it to survive."
Ahra tilted her head, confused but slightly comforted by his tone. "Thank you… mister Class D."
That name — the way she said it — struck a chord in him.
For a moment, it almost sounded like Appa.
He smiled faintly. "Take care of yourselves."
"Come on, Ahra," the boy — Taemin's son — said, offering her his hand. "Let's go."
They left together, steps fading into the rain.
Shin stood alone in the courtyard, watching until they disappeared into the corridor.
Only then did he let his guard drop.
He pressed his palm over his face, breathing hard. His chest felt like it was splitting in two.
"She's alive…" he whispered. "She really made it."
The ring pulsed again, faint light glowing through the rain.
A voice, soft and ancient, whispered in his mind.
The heirs meet once more. The chain reforms.
He gritted his teeth, memories flashing before his eyes — his comrades dying in the dungeon, his captain's last words, his daughter crying in his arms.
"Why now?" he muttered. "Why bring us together again?"
The voice faded, leaving silence behind.
Shin looked up toward the academy's main tower, where banners of the Hunter Guilds hung proudly — including the symbol of the very guild that had branded him a traitor years ago.
His eyes hardened.
"If fate wants to repeat itself," he whispered, "then I'll rewrite it this time."
Rain poured harder, washing down his face, but he didn't move.
The ring glowed faintly, like an echo of his resolve.
He turned toward the dorms, whispering under his breath — a promise to the family that never knew the truth.
"This time… no one will hurt her again."
And for the first time since his death, Ryu Min-Seok — now Lee Shin — smiled not out of pain, but purpose.