Rise of the Rejected Deity from Chaos-Chapter 52 - 51: The Bloodied Path to Freedom V | Plans Set in Motion III

Seiya’s gaze sharpened as Eiro stepped out of the portal, carrying a frail unconscious woman in his arms. Her face was pallid and deeply lined—not from aging, but seemingly from the weight of relentless stress. Malnourished and fragile, her disheveled hair was dry and brittle, like a patient long confined to an asylum.

Both Hayne and Seiya found their eyes drawn to her, staring as if she were a peculiar piece of art on display.

Sensing Seiya’s attention was momentarily diverted, Mr. Sanio extended his hand, in an attempt to activate his Awakened Ability. But in an instant before he could, a thunderous crack that grasped everyone’s attention was heard—Seiya had struck his father again, sending him crashing into another set of equipment.

Mr. Sanio crumpled to the ground, too weak to even rise to sit up.

Eiro and Hayne were visibly shaken. Eiro’s eyes were widened in disbelief at the sheer brutality Seiya displayed toward his own father.

"What did he do this time?" Hayne asked, struggling to process the sudden violence.

"He raised his hand… I assume he intended to use his Ability," Seiya answered plainly.

Hayne could only stare at him, speechless. Unable to digest Seiya’s actions.

Eiro glanced between them, both impressed and oddly envious of how effortlessly they communicated and understood each other.

Turning his attention back to the woman purported to be his mother, Seiya regarded her as nothing more than deadweight. They were on the verge of leaving, yet came another burden—someone who didn’t seem would be able to walk without support. To him, she was a load.

A thick chain bound her ankle, its length stretching into the portal that had yet to close.

"I couldn’t break the chain," Eiro admitted, his grip on the woman gentle despite his frustration.

Hayne turned to Seiya, his gaze wordlessly urging him to help. But Seiya remained unmoved, only stepping forward when Hayne finally said, ’please.’

With an air of indifference, Seiya strolled over and grasped the chain. His muscles tensed, veins bulging along his arms as he exerted his strength—then, effortlessly, the metal snapped apart in his grip.

Eiro scoffed, turning his gaze away with a huff. "Hmph!"

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he spun back toward Seiya, baring his sharp teeth in a low growl. "You should be grateful," he sneered. "At least say ’thank you’ for bringing your mother here, hmph!"

"…"

Seiya remained blinking at him without a word.

Eiro’s brow twitched, irritation flaring at what he perceived as mockery.

"Hah?! What’s with that look?" His eyes press wide.

"I never asked you to bring her, did I?" Seiya said flatly, his piercing gaze meeting Eiro’s incredulous stare.

Eiro’s frown deepened, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"I don’t care about a woman I don’t even know—a woman you all claim to be my mother. Do whatever you want with her. Take her back, leave her to die, it makes no difference to me."

Mr. Sanio, still slumped on the floor, was taken aback by Seiya’s cold indifference, though he lacked the strength to intervene.

Eiro’s patience snapped. Lowering the woman carefully to the ground, he stormed over and grabbed Seiya by the collar, as he had done many times before.

"What the hell are you saying?!" He roared. "Leave her to die? Your own mother?!

Seiya’s expression darkened, irritation flashing in his eyes. In one swift motion, he seized Eiro’s wrist in an iron grip, his fingers tightening almost to the point of strain. With his other hand, he pressed down on Eiro’s shoulder, forcing him to his knees.

Eiro struggled, but no matter how much he fought, he could not break free.

"You’re so full of yourself," Seiya murmured, looking down at him as if he were nothing more than an insect beneath his boot. "Barking at me like that, when all I did was speak the truth."

Seiya had grown tired of the self-righteousness of those around him—the conflicting perspectives of the people within the facility increasingly vexed him.

Just as Seiya prepared to act further, Hayne lunged forward. He grabbed Eiro by the collar and yanked him backward, breaking Seiya’s grip in an instant.

Hayne’s breath came fast, his eyes wide with disbelief and his face pale with fear. In that fleeting moment, when Seiya looked down at Eiro, Hayne had seen it—the pure, undiluted intent to kill. A second later, and Eiro would have been dead.

How did he change this much…? Hayne found himself wondering.

Eiro, thrown onto the floor, sprang up in rage. But before he could lunge at Seiya again, Hayne stepped between them.

"Just let it go," Hayne said firmly. "You’ve always been the one acting aggressive with him, and this time, he fought back. As for bringing his mother—thank you."

Eiro let out a sharp hiss of frustration but, after a tense moment, turned his face away in reluctant spite.

With a sigh, Hayne instructed him to take Seiya’s mother to the safe room where the other children were gathered, having their trackers removed.

As Eiro carried the woman away, Seiya strode leisurely toward his father, reaching down to grasp him by the hair and lifting his head with effortless ease.

"Should I call in your elites?" he asked, his tone unsettlingly polite.

"Since they can’t even come in without your orders. Waiting out there like dogs," Seiya taunted, his white eyes gleaming as he stared down at the battered man.

His grip tightened. "I will though, just that you won’t get to see the action."

Raising his hand, Seiya prepared to strike—but before he could bring it down, Hayne intervened once again

Seiya’s eyes flashed with raw fury as he snapped his head toward Hayne, his patience wearing thin.

"Whoa, whoa—calm down…please" Hayne urged, sweat beading on his forehead with hands raised in a placating gesture from the thick tension in the air. "You’re free to kill him…..later, but there’s something I need to know first."

Hayne’s once meek expression turned steely as he addressed Mr. Sanio, his gaze piercing the weakened man on the floor.

"As we prepare to leave… are the children’s lives guaranteed?" Hayne inquired, his eyes fixed on the almost lifeless figure of Mr. Sanio.

"Can we safely assume no one will pursue us once we depart?" Hayne added, the tension in his voice evident.

Mr. Sanio chuckled weakly, a cough following closely after, and a thin smirk curled on his bloodied lips.

"That’s a rather idealistic hope," he said, blood staining his smirk. "With me dead, of course, the others will come for you all. Or did you truly think I acted alone in all of this?"

Hayne exhaled sharply, his tone calm. "I figured as much."

"When we leave, I intend to see the children lead a better life," Hayne continued. "Having people like you chasing after us will only complicate that. Tell me—how do we put an end to this?"

Mr. Sanio’s smirk widened. "You expect me to reveal that?" He paused for a moment, then added shamelessly, "Well, it’s simple, really. Just let me live."

Hayne arched a brow, his expression one of curiosity, urging him to elaborate.

"We can strike a deal to ensure the children’s safety, the life you want for them… that is, if you survive my elites of course," Mr. Sanio said, his tone laced with challenge. Seiya’s brow furrowed in response, a dangerous gleam flickering in his eyes.

Standing, he strode toward the center of the hall, his staff held firmly, extended at his side.

"Your elites…" Seiya began, his voice eerily calm and controlled. "Call them in."

Mr. Sanio’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile as he pressed a button on the tiny communication device clenched tightly in his grasp.

In an instant, the doors burst open, and a violent rush of wind swept through the hall as several elites sprang inside.

Seiya stood unmoving, waiting in the middle of the hall—staff in hand, head slightly raised with his cold white eyes gleaming in anticipation.

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