Chapter 89: Dawn of Relief
Around 6:00 a.m., as the sky outside slowly shifted from ink-black to shades of gray and violet, a soft groan stirred Philip from his light meditation.
Nathaniel was waking up.
His brother jolted upright with a sharp breath, eyes darting around wildly. The motion sent fresh pain through his body, and he winced, but adrenaline pushed him on.
The ruined sitting room greeted him half of the wall gone, the air heavy with dust and the faint scent of charred wood and blood. His sister Amaka was still sleeping under the protective barrier, wrapped in Philip's light-cloak, her face serene but pale.
And there, sitting calmly amidst the wreckage like an unmoved stone in a storm, was Philip.
The demigod's gaze met Nathaniel's as he stood and approached swiftly, one hand raised in a calming gesture. His voice, firm but gentle, broke the lingering tension.
"Easy, Nate. You're safe now."
Nathaniel blinked, still groggy, muscles trembling. His gaze softened slightly, seeing his brother alive and unharmed.
Then Philip's voice lowered. "Where are they?"
A pause. Then again, colder:
"Where are Mother and Father?"
Nathaniel's breath caught.
For a moment, the fog of sleep clung to him but then, like a dam breaking, memories flooded in. His eyes widened as fragments of the night before rushed back:
He had come home as he always did every weekend, to visit, to see his parents. Dinner had been warm, peaceful. Then without warning shadows fell upon the house.
Mantle-like figures, Gutterborns, had appeared in droves, assaulting the protective barriers of the home. Dozens of them. They attacked in waves, their clawed limbs rending at the warded walls.
When the barrier finally buckled, Nathaniel had not hesitated. He rushed to their parents' room, instincts taking over. Using his awakened ability, he gave them a single, desperate command:
"Go leave through the back door! Head to Grandma and Grandpa's. Don't stop, don't look back!"
Then he and Amaka had turned to face the tide of monsters.
Nathaniel's voice trembled as he recalled it aloud: "I told them to run... to Grandma's... I think that's where they went…"
Philip's mind moved like lightning.
In an instant, he was gone.
He reappeared otside his grandparents' home a quiet, unassuming house tucked away in a secure corner of the city.
The sight that met him stole the breath from his lungs.
Through the window, he saw them his mother and father, alive and unharmed, sitting at the old wooden dining table. His grandparents were there too, chatting over tea. Laughter even echoed faintly through the glass.
His grandmother was teasing his mother playfully.
"So worried you missed me so much you came at night, hm?" she chuckled.
Philip's knees nearly buckled with relief.
He didn't disturb them. Instead, he raised his hand, weaving a powerful, hidden barrier over the entire property one that would alert him instantly should anyone attempt to approach.
Then, just as silently, he vanished.
Back in the ruined home, the tension in his chest eased.
They're safe.
That thought rang through him like a chime.
But there was still work to do.
He glanced around the wrecked sitting room. Three years ago, he had invested so much care into renovating this house a gift to their parents. The garden, the new floors, the bright-painted walls, even the family photos now shattered or blackened by the battle.
Memories gone.
But it could all be rebuilt.
They would rebuild it.
After he dealt with this threat permanently.
For now, he had to convince his parents to stay with his grandparents. It wasn't safe here, not yet. And if he failed to eliminate the true enemy behind this… no home anywhere would be safe.
Nathaniel, meanwhile, had risen on shaky legs. His stomach growled audibly.
"I'm starving," he muttered sheepishly.
Philip allowed himself a faint smile. "Go. See what you can put together in the kitchen."
Nathaniel nodded, limping toward the battered kitchen space, already rummaging for anything edible.
Philip turned his attention back to Amaka.
The night had passed slowly. Her mana had been drained to nothing after the battle, leaving her in a deep, unnatural sleep. Through the night, strands of light mana had been trickling back into her.
Now, with dawn breaking, something shifted.
The first rays of sunlight pierced through the broken roof and touched her.
Immediately, her body responded.
A radiant glow enveloped her form soft at first, then growing.
Light mana flooded into her in torrents. The air hummed with energy.
Her body began to float gently off the ground, rising a few inches as her aura expanded. The room seemed to brighten with her power, shadows retreating.
Philip watched in surprise.
She's breaking through…
Amaka's mana surged no longer that of a simple initiate. She was awakening at the adept level now, her core evolving under the strain and trial of battle.
Then her eyes snapped open, blazing with light.
A wave of raw power burst from her, an uncontrolled shockwave.
Before it could shatter the already weakened walls, Philip was there hand outstretched, weaving a quick shield to absorb the blast.
"Calm down," he said firmly, voice cutting through the surge of power. "You're safe."
Amaka blinked rapidly, breathless. Her glow dimmed, her body slowly lowering back to the floor.
Recognition dawned in her gaze.
"Brother… we are we alive?"
Philip nodded. "Yes. Thanks to you both."
He glanced outside.