Chapter 680: Never Give Up

A few months ago, or perhaps even less than that, if someone had asked me whether Ezra was stronger than me, I would have answered with humility.

At least, I would have pretended to be humble.

The truth was that simple.

I was definitely stronger than him.

And it wasn’t even a debate.

Physically, I was better.

My body was stronger, and I could do things that he couldn’t.

Even if I had acknowledged his talent, there was no reason for me to believe he had surpassed me.

Even now, I’m still better than him in that regard.

But...

Veda’s thoughts came to a halt.

His gaze settled on Ezra, who was still occupied with his training.

The young Gun Alchemist moved among the six Guards of Ash, his attention fixed on the movements unfolding around him.

The Blacksteel rods suspended equally in the air and the other rods hovering around him remained under his control, moving in response to his will as he continued to fight.

Veda watched in silence.

But when it comes to everything else...

He found himself reconsidering his earlier judgment.

Understanding of Gun Alchemy.

Control over Cognis.

Alchemy strategy.

Ezra had surpassed him in all three areas.

There was no point in denying it.

Veda could keep telling himself that he was physically stronger, but that did little to change what stood before his eyes.

Ezra had grown far beyond what Veda had expected.

He had even managed to face someone like Maxwell, whose strength had been nothing short of incredible.

Maxwell had defeated Ravenor and nearly beaten Vera.

Those two alone were enough to show how formidable he was.

Yet Ezra had managed to push himself to their level.

Veda’s fingers curled slightly.

He had always known Ezra was strong.

Even before their time at the Royal Academy, he had recognized that his cousin possessed a talent that could not be measured by ordinary standards.

Ezra learned quickly, adapted to difficult situations, and seemed to improve at a pace that left others struggling to keep up.

Veda had noticed all of that.

However, knowing someone was strong and truly understanding the extent of their strength were two different things.

He had never taken the time to sit down and consider just how far Ezra had come.

Now, as he watched the young Gun Alchemist continue his training, he could no longer avoid that realization.

A faint sting spread through Veda’s chest.

It wasn’t simply the discomfort of seeing someone else surpass him.

He had experienced defeat before, and he knew what it felt like to stand below someone he wanted to catch up with.

This was different.

His thoughts had returned to something he had been trying to put aside.

The article about Ezra.

After returning home, Veda had spent a considerable amount of time researching the reports surrounding the deaths of the Baron of Sterling and his family.

He had used the privileges that came with being the Young Lord of Ashenlocke to obtain more detailed records than an ordinary person could easily access.

He wanted to know whether Ezra had truly been capable of doing something like that.

At first, the whole matter had seemed absurd.

How could someone like Ezra have killed an entire noble family?

It wasn’t that Veda believed Ezra incapable of violence.

He knew better than to make that mistake.

But there was a difference between being able to fight and possessing the strength to kill an Adept Alchemist, his Guards, and the other Alchemists he had hired.

The reports were difficult to accept.

Of course, Veda hadn’t forgotten what Bobby had told him.

When Aliya died, Ezra had massacred almost everyone in Felix’s group and Pamela’s group.

He had only spared Pamela because of a favour he owed Vera.

Veda remembered that account well enough.

Still, when he thought about it logically, the people Ezra had fought were children like him.

Most of them were Half-Star Alchemists who had not even reached the Novice rank.

Only a few had become Novice Alchemists.

They were not weak by the standards of ordinary children, but their strength was still limited to their Alchemist rank.

And their numbers did not come close to those described in the more detailed reports Veda had managed to obtain.

The records had revealed another troubling fact.

The Baron of Sterling had already reached the Adept rank at the time of his death.

An Adept Alchemist.

Even now, that information was difficult to accept.

Ezra had been only a Binder Alchemist.

How could a Binder have killed an Adept, his Guards, and the Alchemists hired to protect him?

Veda had gone over the reports more than once, searching for something that might explain the difference between what he knew about Ezra and what the records claimed he had done.

But he had found no answer that made the story easier to believe.

How was he supposed to take the article seriously?

Ezra couldn’t have been capable of doing something like that.

Or...

Perhaps Veda simply wanted to believe he couldn’t.

His thoughts grew heavy.

The idea of Ezra killing his own family in cold blood was something Veda struggled to accept.

He could not imagine himself doing such a thing, even though the circumstances surrounding their lives were not so different.

Both of them had been shaped by their families, their positions, and the expectations placed upon them.

Both had reasons to become stronger, and neither had been given a life free of hardship.

Yet their minds moved along entirely different paths.

Veda knew that Ezra wasn’t like him.

And he wasn’t like Ezra, either.

The realization had troubled him before.

It had returned shortly before the Fourth Trial began, when a small doubt about Ezra had crept into his thoughts.

Back then, Veda had not been able to explain why he felt uneasy about his cousin.

He had tried to put the feeling aside.

Now, as he watched Ezra’s progress, that old uneasiness returned with a clarity he could no longer ignore.

The pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together.

The strength Ezra displayed now, the reports he had read, and the stories he had heard all pointed in the same direction.

Ezra had done it.

He had killed the Baron of Sterling and his family.

Ezra really did kill his own family.

Veda stared at him with a complicated expression.

He wanted to reject the thought, but the evidence was becoming too difficult to ignore.

The young Gun Alchemist before him was no longer someone whose abilities he could judge by comparing their physical strength or remembering how they had been in the past.

Ezra had changed.

And perhaps Veda had been too reluctant to acknowledge just how much.

But how can you keep moving forward like this, even after everything you’ve been through?

Veda’s gaze remained on Ezra.

How can you continue to move ahead after falling so far?

The questions came one after another, each one making the answer seem more distant.

How can you keep going after doing something like that?

How does your mind remain sane?

What makes you keep walking straight ahead, as if you already know where you’re going?

Ezra had lost so much.

His life was far from stable, and he had been forced to face things that Veda could barely imagine dealing with himself.

He had even been forced to use his own hands to end the lives of those who had given him his origins.

And yet, Ezra continued forward.

He trained.

He improved.

He faced stronger opponents and pushed himself to overcome them.

He didn’t seem to let the weight of his past prevent him from moving toward whatever future he had chosen for himself.

Veda couldn’t understand it.

He paused, his thoughts lingering on that last point.

I really can’t understand you.

His gaze shifted slightly, though it remained near Ezra.

Or Vera, for that matter.

Vera was another person he struggled to understand.

She had her own way of thinking, her own standards, and her own ideas about what mattered.

Even as his Twin, she could sometimes feel like someone whose thoughts he would never fully grasp.

Perhaps that was why she trusted Ezra more than her own brother.

Veda’s lips twitched.

Then a quiet laugh escaped him.

"Hahaha."

The sound was light, almost uncertain.

Stoke turned his head toward him.

Surprise crossed the older man’s face as he watched Veda laugh to himself.

He had brought the Young Lord of Ash here hoping that seeing Ezra’s training might awaken something within him.

Veda had been struggling with his recent progress, and Stoke had wanted him to see someone who continued to push forward despite the difficulties standing in his way.

However, what Stoke was witnessing now seemed to be more than a simple spark of motivation.

Something had changed in Veda’s expression.

The frustration that had weighed on him earlier had not vanished completely, but it no longer seemed to hold him down.

His eyes had gained a clearer focus, and the tension in his face had begun to ease.

It was as though he had found something he had misplaced.

A determination that had been buried beneath his worries was slowly returning.

"Everyone is busy facing their own shadows, yet here I am, worrying about falling badly when I’ve already fallen a long time ago."

Veda spoke quietly, almost as though he were talking to himself.

The words made him laugh again, though this time there was a little more understanding in the sound.

He had been so concerned about losing his footing that he had forgotten something important.

He had already fallen before.

He had lost.

He had struggled.

He had been looked down upon by people who believed he would never amount to anything.

But none of those things had ever stopped him from moving forward.

So why had he allowed his latest defeat to trouble him so much?

"Yeah... Nothing was ever easy from the beginning."

His right hand tightened into a fist before he even noticed what he was doing.

He looked down at it for a moment.

There had been times when he wanted to become stronger but had no idea how to get there.

Times when his progress had been slow, when his efforts had seemed useless, and when the distance between him and the people he wanted to catch up with had only grown wider.

Then, when he finally managed to improve, another defeat would remind him of how far he still had to go.

"My loss, my growth, and my loss again..."

Veda paused.

His fist remained clenched at his side.

"It’s the same sequence of my life."

He turned toward Stoke, who was standing nearby with his hands behind his back.

The older man did not interrupt him.

He simply watched as Veda’s expression began to change.

"Talent or not, I never gave up. And I will never give up."

A bright smile appeared on Veda’s face.

It was not a smile meant to hide his frustration, nor was it an attempt to convince someone else that he was fine.

For the first time in a while, he seemed to have found a reason to stop worrying about the things he could not change and focus on what he could still do.

He might not have the same talent as Ezra.

He might not learn as quickly as Vera or the others.

But that did not mean he had to stop trying.

"Thanks for showing me this, Mr. Stoke. I feel much better after seeing it."

Veda’s voice carried genuine appreciation.

Stoke looked at the Young Lord of Ash, and a faint smile formed on his face.

The servants and Guards of Ash nearby shared a similar expression.

They had been watching Ezra’s training, but their attention shifted toward Veda as they noticed the change in him.

They knew the story of the boy standing before them.

He had once been called trash.

A waste.

There had been people who treated him as though he were a ghost, someone whose presence could be ignored because he would never become important enough to matter.

For a long time, Veda had struggled beneath those judgments.

Yet he had continued.

He had trained, endured his failures, and slowly worked his way toward becoming someone who could face opponents that others once believed he would never challenge in a million years.

He was no longer merely the boy people had dismissed.

Now, he was the Young Lord of Ash.

A young Gun Alchemist who had influenced many of the young Alchemists of Ashenlocke through his determination and the way he refused to surrender, even when his progress fell short of his expectations.

Veda himself might not have realized how much he had changed.

He might still see the distance between himself and those who stood ahead of him.

He might still worry about his weaknesses and the possibility that he would never reach the heights he desired.

But those who watched him could see something else.

They could see how far he had come.

"Haha... Haha... Haha..."

Veda laughed lightly, shaking his head at himself.

"I wonder why I was letting myself get so frustrated. Maybe I really wasn’t over losing to Ravenor. I did a pretty good job hiding it, though... Ahhh."

He let out a helpless sigh.

The defeat had clearly bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

He had tried to push the memory aside and carry on as usual, but the frustration had remained beneath the surface.

Now that he had acknowledged it, the feeling seemed less difficult to bear.

He did not have to pretend the defeat meant nothing.

He only had to stop allowing it to decide what he would do next.

"Well."

Bam!

Veda brought his right fist down against his left palm.

The sharp sound drew attention from those nearby.

He straightened his back, and his eyes sharpened with renewed purpose.

"I will go back to training."

His voice carried more excitement than before.

There was no point in standing around worrying about the distance between himself and the others.

If Ezra, Vera, and the rest continued to grow stronger while he remained where he was, that distance would only become greater.

He could not allow that to happen.

"Can’t have Ezra, Vera, and the others growing stronger while I don’t. I have to get stronger if I want to achieve all my goals."

With that, Veda turned toward his training area.

He had already begun to move before the last traces of his frustration could return.

His steps quickened, and soon he was running off, eager to resume the work he had been doing.

"Make sure you eat something, Young Lord."

Stoke called after him in a calm voice.

"I will!"

Veda replied without stopping.

He raised one hand and waved it behind him as he continued running.

Stoke watched him go and smiled helplessly.

The boy certainly had a habit of throwing himself into things once he had made up his mind.

His hands rested behind his back as he turned his attention toward the others.

With the Young Lord gone, the servants and Guards of Ash returned to watching Ezra’s training.

Their attention shifted back toward the room where the six Guards continued facing the young Gun Alchemist.

Stoke, however, did not immediately follow them.

His gaze remained on Veda’s retreating figure.

He probably has no idea.

A pleased smile settled on Stoke’s face.

How many young Alchemists at Ash Academy see him as an idol because of his strong will.

Veda might still consider himself someone who had fallen behind.

He might measure his progress against Ezra, Vera, and the other talented youths around him and see only the areas where he was lacking.

But to the young Alchemists who had watched his journey, his determination meant something.

They had seen someone who had once been treated as a failure continue to stand up and move forward.

They had watched him face his weaknesses rather than surrender to them.

Not everyone could do that.

Talent could carry a person far, but it did not always teach them how to endure failure.

Some people had the ability to reach great heights but lost their way the moment they faced a wall they could not climb.

Veda had his own shortcomings, yet he continued to struggle against them.

Perhaps that was why so many of the young Alchemists admired him.

Stoke’s smile slowly faded as his thoughts turned toward something else.

We truly committed an unforgivable sin against these children of Ash.

His hands remained behind his back, but his expression grew solemn.

They had made these children risk their lives for their own ambitions.

In their pursuit of raising the next generation and securing the kingdom’s future, they had placed burdens on young shoulders that should never have been forced to carry them.

The children were expected to grow stronger, to overcome their limits, and to become the people who would protect Ashenlocke in the years to come.

Yet they were still children.

They still had their own fears, their own doubts, and their own lives to live.

And the adults had asked them to risk all of it.

Stoke lowered his gaze.

But I pray that the Elden Scholars will continue guiding all these children as they walk their own paths.

They were the future.

Not only the future of Ashenlocke, but of the entire kingdom.

Their strengths and weaknesses would shape what came next.

The choices they made, the lessons they learned, and the people they became would all play a part in determining the future that awaited Britannia.

Stoke could only hope that those responsible for guiding them would continue to do so.

Even if the kingdom appeared to be living through a peaceful time, that peace could not be taken for granted.

It was easy to become comfortable when there was no immediate threat.

Easy to believe that the present would continue without change.

But peace did not last forever.

Because... Peace has its own timer.

Stoke brought his hands together and closed his eyes.

He bowed his head in silent prayer, hoping the Elden Scholars would continue to guide the children who had been entrusted to them.

After a moment, he straightened.

Then he turned and left, intending to make sure Veda had not begun his training again without eating something first.