Reincarnated With a Cheat System

Chapter 8 – What's Going on?

The sound of clashing steel and crackling fire still echoed in the night air as the last of the bandits fell to the ground. Phyro's heart was still racing, his pulse thundering in his ears, but he couldn't allow himself the luxury of relief. The fight had been fierce, but they had triumphed—barely.

Kaien, his father, surveyed the scene with a stoic expression. Klein, always focused and sharp, wiped his blade clean, the fierce look in his eyes not yet fading. Phyro glanced around, still absorbing the chaos of the battle. His mind kept replaying the moment the Ultimate Fireball exploded in his hand, the intense feeling of power surging through him. Yet, despite his strength, there was still a gnawing sense of unease.

The last bandit, the leader, remained alive—though barely. He was on his knees, his breathing shallow, his eyes wild with fear. Blood drenched his clothes, and his grip on the sword was weak. Despite the pain, his defiance was still evident, but there was nothing he could do now.

Kaien stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Who sent you?" he asked, his tone carrying the weight of authority.

The leader spat out blood, looking up at Kaien with venomous eyes. "I won't tell you," he snarled, his voice strained. "You think you've won? You've just made things worse!"

Kaien didn't flinch. He didn't need to ask again. His hand moved in a blur, unsheathing his sword and cutting through the bandit leader with one swift motion. The man's body collapsed to the ground in an instant, lifeless.

Phyro froze. His stomach churned at the coldness of it all. In his past life, he had seen violence, but this… this was real. No grand choreography, no flashy displays of heroism. Just cold, brutal execution. The severed head of the bandit rolled across the dirt road, his blood seeping into the ground.

The other bandits lay sprawled around them, their bodies lifeless and still. The others, the bandits who had fallen in the fight, were left in a similar state. There was no mourning, no questioning; it was just the harsh finality of their end.

Phyro swallowed hard. Despite the occasional fights he'd had in his past life—this wasn't something that came easy to him. He'd read about it in books, seen it in movies, but experiencing it firsthand was something different. The coldness in his father's eyes as he executed the leader without hesitation—it shook him. And yet, as he glanced at his family, there was no sign of guilt or hesitation. It was just another part of life here.

His father, Kaien, turned and wiped the blood from his sword, as though this were a mere inconvenience.

"We'll get no answers from them," Kaien said, his voice emotionless. "But they were likely just pawns, and someone powerful is pulling the strings behind this."

Phyro took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his nerves. He wasn't sure if he'd ever truly get used to this world—the way people died so easily, the way power played such a huge role in everything. But he had to adjust. If he was going to survive here, he had to become like them. Cold. Detached.

He could feel the heaviness of the silence as they returned to the carriage. The bodies of the bandits were left behind, unceremoniously. As the carriage continued its journey home, Phyro stared out of the window, lost in his thoughts. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of enemy would send such people after them—and why. His mind raced, but he knew this was only the beginning. There was much more to this than met the eye.

By the time they reached the Nishiki estate, the night had fully settled in. The warm light spilling from the windows of the house offered a brief sense of comfort, but even that couldn't dispel the tension Phyro felt in his chest. He could feel the unease crawling beneath his skin, the sensation that something larger than a mere bandit ambush was unfolding.

As they approached the front door, Phyro saw a figure standing in the shadows of the porch. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a long, heavy cloak. His presence was imposing, even in the dim light, and Phyro instinctively tensed.

The figure stepped forward, and Phyro's eyes widened as recognition hit him. The man's face—grizzled with a few days' worth of stubble, his sharp features familiar despite the years—was unmistakable.

"Uncle Lein?" Klein murmured, his voice filled with surprise and curiosity.

Phyro's heart skipped a beat. Lein? His uncle? But how? The man had been living in the snow country for years, far away from the family's affairs. What was he doing here?

Kaien's face shifted—though just slightly—from its usual stoic demeanor to something more complex. A mix of surprise and wariness lingered in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Kaien's voice was stern, but there was a hint of tension beneath it, as though he hadn't been expecting this visit, nor did he particularly welcome it.

Lein's eyes, cold and calculating, met Kaien's with an almost imperceptible glimmer of something—was it regret? Resignation? He spoke, his voice deep and rough from years of disuse.

"It's been a long time, Kaien. But we need to talk. There are things happening, things you won't want to ignore. And if you don't listen now, it may be too late."

Phyro's confusion deepened. What could possibly have brought him back after all this time?

The tension in the air was thick as Kaien and Lein exchanged looks, neither willing to break the silence first.

Finally, Kaien spoke again, his tone wary. "What kind of danger are you bringing to our doorstep, Lein?"

Lein's eyes shifted toward Phyro for a moment before returning to Kaien. "Not just your doorstep, Kaien. The whole world is changing, and we can't afford to be caught unprepared."

Phyro felt a chill run down his spine. The sudden appearance of his uncle—and his ominous words—made him feel like a storm was brewing on the horizon. One that neither he nor his family could avoid.