Chapter 46 - Don’t Touch My Home

“Stay away from her.”

Etzel did not end the call. For a second, there was only silence.

Then the thing using Neris’s voice laughed. Not Neris’s laugh. Close enough to be worse.

“Which one?”

Etzel stopped moving. The question struck harder than a threat. Neris. Ismera. Veydan. Which one?

His hand tightened around the communicator until the casing creaked. “DK.”

“I am ready.”

“Home.”

Halven was already opening the transport route. Renn’s voice came over the local channel. “Four minutes, eighteen seconds.”

Etzel looked toward the vehicle. “Too long.” He started forward.

“Etzel.”

Renn. Etzel did not answer.

“Listen to me.”

“My family is in that house.”

“Exactly.”

That stopped him. Not completely. But enough.

Renn continued. “Mireth knows how you behave.”

Etzel’s jaw tightened. “It knows some of it.”

“It knows enough to threaten your family because it expects that to change your decisions.”

Silence. Etzel looked at the communicator in his hand. The call was still connected. The false Neris said nothing. Listening? Recording? Waiting?

Etzel killed the connection. Then looked at DK. “He wants me predictable.”

DK nodded.

Halven glanced over. “Difference?”

Etzel looked at him. “If someone threatens your family, Mireth doesn’t know what you’ll do.” He pointed at himself. “He has records of what I do.”

The picnic. Neris running. The A-Rank creature. DK appearing. Hidden power revealed. Everything Mireth could have found in public Hunter archives.

Etzel’s expression hardened. “He isn’t just threatening them.”

DK understood. “He is testing you.”

“Yeah.” Etzel stepped into the vehicle. “That makes this worse.”

The transport accelerated. Etzel sat forward. No jokes. No restless conversation. Just the map.

Renn sent the Deymar residence feed. Four registered identity signals were inside the house.

Veydan Deymar. Ismera Deymar. Neris Deymar. And—

Etzel stared. Etzel Deymar.

Halven saw it. “You’re here.”

“I know.”

One Etzel sat in the transport. Another was inside his home. The other three signals remained valid. Unchanged.

Etzel leaned closer. “So it hasn’t taken them.”

Renn answered. “Not according to current verification.”

“Current verification is becoming a very flexible concept.”

“Agreed.”

Etzel studied the house layout. No movement from the outside. No visible breach. No broken windows. No emergency call from inside. Too quiet.

Then he noticed something. “Neris’s communicator.”

“What about it?”

“Track the device separately.”

Renn pulled the data. The device was in the living room. But Neris’s bio-registration signal—second floor.

Etzel’s eyes narrowed. “She left the communicator downstairs.”

Halven looked at him. “On purpose?”

Etzel almost smiled. “Neris is annoying.”

DK looked at him. “That was not the question.”

“It means yes.”

The family had not simply sat there waiting. Good. Veydan had moved furniture against the upstairs hallway. Ismera and Neris were together. Veydan’s signal remained near the stairs. Makeshift defense. Improvised. Primitive. But deliberate.

Etzel exhaled. “They’re thinking.”

Renn answered. “That helps.”

“A little.”

The vehicle turned onto the final street. Etzel was moving before it stopped. The side door opened. He jumped down.

“Etzel!” Halven.

Etzel kept moving.

Then: “Etzel.” DK.

Etzel stopped. Not because DK had raised his voice. He hadn’t. DK stepped beside him. Black armor. Red eyes behind the helm. Hellscript Greatblade already in hand.

“You are angry.”

Etzel looked toward the house. “Yes.”

“Then I enter first.”

Etzel’s first instinct was rejection. Immediate. Automatic. His house. His family. His responsibility.

Then he looked at DK. The man who had stood between Neris and an A-Rank monster. The man who had taken a strike meant for her. The man who had stayed beside Etzel when everything else became strange.

Etzel breathed once. “Okay.”

DK nodded. No dramatic speech. He simply walked.

Etzel followed. Saeva stayed near Etzel’s shoulder. Halven and the Authority team spread around the building.

The front door was closed. Not locked.

DK opened it. Dark hallway. No lights. The black armor seemed to swallow what little illumination entered from outside. Two red eyes burned beneath the helmet. The central runes of the Greatblade began to glow. Slowly. Controlled.

DK took one step. Then another.

Etzel entered behind him. And saw himself.

Standing in the living room. Same face. Same body. Same height. But cleaner somehow. Too composed. Too still.

The false Etzel looked at DK first. Then at the real Etzel. “Hello.”

Etzel stared. “No.”

The copy tilted its head.

Etzel pointed at it. “I refuse to believe I look that irritating.”

DK answered. “Sometimes.”

Etzel slowly turned. “Not now.”

The copy watched the exchange. Then spoke. “Veydan.”

Upstairs—Veydan’s identity signal flared on the Authority map.

“Ismera.”

Second signal.

“Neris.”

Third.

Etzel’s expression changed. The copy looked directly at him. “Family.”

“Don’t use that word.”

The false Etzel paused. Then smiled. “Reaction confirmed.”

Etzel immediately understood. His anger cooled. Not vanished. Controlled. Mireth wanted responses. Measurements. Triggers.

Etzel stopped talking.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

DK noticed. “Good.”

Etzel gave him a look. But said nothing.

The copy studied him. For the first time—its expression changed. Uncertainty. Tiny. But there.

Etzel saw it. Good. Silence could also be new behavior.

The copy moved. Not toward Etzel. Toward the stairs.

DK stepped into the path. The false Etzel stopped. Then spoke.

“Picnic.”

Etzel’s eyes sharpened.

The copy continued. “Neris threatened.” Silence. “Hidden asset revealed.”

DK’s red eyes brightened. Etzel’s hand tightened around the spear.

There it was. Mireth had found the public event record. The video. The combat footage. The moment Etzel had manifested DK in front of everyone because Neris was in danger.

The copy looked at DK. “Dark Knight.”

Etzel understood. “This isn’t about Neris.”

The copy looked at him. Not entirely. Etzel glanced at DK. “It wants you.”

Black filament emerged from the false Etzel’s hand. Not a weapon. Threads. They reached toward DK.

Etzel moved instantly. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

The copy’s eyes snapped toward Etzel. Another reaction. Damn it.

DK did not retreat. He swung. The Hellscript Greatblade cut through the filaments.

Normally black strands separated and continued moving. These did something else. The runes flared. Red-black fire ran through the cut. The filament screamed. Not metaphorically. A sound tore through the room. The severed strands burned from the cut outward.

The copy recoiled. Etzel stared. DK looked at the blade. The runes pulsed.

The System reacted.

Etzel blinked. A detail opened.

Etzel grinned despite himself. “Your sword hates him.”

DK raised the blade. “So do I.”

“Finally, another thing you and I agree on.”

The copy stared at the burning remains of its filament. Then at DK. Learning. Etzel saw that too.

“Don’t give it too much.”

DK understood immediately. The blade lowered half an inch. Controlled. No unnecessary demonstration. They were learning too.

The false Etzel attacked. A black spear formed in its hand. It lunged for DK. Not recklessly. Precisely. The point went toward a seam near the shoulder. A seam exposed in old footage. Old armor. Old DK.

The Infernal Sovereign Set shifted.

The strike landed.

Black plates reinforced around the impact. The spear slipped away.

The copy hesitated.

DK’s head tilted slightly. “You know the previous armor.” The false Etzel tried to recover. Too late. DK drove his shoulder into its chest.

BOOM.

The copy smashed through a side table. Etzel stepped aside as debris flew.

“Furniture!”

DK did not look at him. “The target was behind it.”

“That table had sentimental potential.”

The copy rose. Its movement changed. More cautious.

DK advanced. The false Etzel feinted low. Then attacked high. A maneuver Etzel had seen DK counter before the equipment upgrade. The copy expected a shield block. There was no old shield.

DK trapped the black spear beneath the Greatblade. Twisted. Snapped it. Then kicked the copy through the wall.

BOOM.

Plaster exploded. Etzel stared through the hole. DK’s voice came calmly.

“You know an older version.” He stepped through. “That is insufficient.”

The Greatblade ignited. Red runes burned. The copy barely avoided the next strike. The wall behind it didn’t.

Etzel winced. “That one definitely wasn’t sentimental.”

Etzel turned away from the fight. That was harder than it should have been. Every instinct said stay. Help DK. Finish the threat.

But the family was upstairs. DK could handle the copy. Etzel trusted him. That mattered.

He ran. Up the stairs. The hallway had been partially blocked by a cabinet. Etzel climbed over it.

“Dad?”

Metal scraped. Veydan appeared around the corner holding a steel bar. He stopped. Etzel stopped. They stared at each other.

Veydan lowered the bar slightly. “You.”

Etzel blinked. “Comforting welcome.”

“Prove it.”

Etzel froze. Then smiled. Good. “Ask me something.”

Veydan did not smile. “What did you tell me after I found blood on your shirt the first time?”

Etzel remembered. “I said a branch won.”

Veydan lowered the bar. “Idiot.”

“Confirmed.”

The bedroom door opened. Ismera appeared. Neris beside her. Etzel saw them. Alive. Whole. Actually them.

For the first time since the phone call—he breathed properly.

Neris stared. “You’re late.”

Etzel looked at her. “Four minutes.”

“It was terrible.”

He walked forward. And hugged her. No joke. No warning. Neris froze. Then hugged him back. Ismera’s face softened. Veydan looked away. Only briefly.

Neris spoke into Etzel’s shoulder. “You’re crushing me.”

Etzel released her. “Good. Means you’re real.”

She stared at him. “That was almost sweet.”

“Don’t spread it around.”

Ismera stepped closer. “Etzel.” He looked at her. She touched the side of his face. Not checking injuries. Just checking him. Real.

Downstairs—

BOOM.

The house shook. Neris looked toward the floor. “Is that DK?”

Etzel sighed. “Yes.”

Another crash. Veydan looked through the hallway. “You have a lot to explain.”

Etzel nodded. “The list is growing.”

A scream came from downstairs. Not DK. Etzel turned immediately. Soul Link. DK was fine. The copy was not.

Etzel rushed back. The others followed only as far as the stair landing.

He looked down. The false Etzel stood in the broken living room. Its face was changing. Neris. Ismera. Veydan. Etzel. Pel Marrin. Another Hunter. Another. Dozens. Faces sliding rapidly. No stable form.

Etzel descended slowly. “None of those are you.”

The faces stopped. Etzel continued. “That’s the problem.”

The copy formed Etzel’s face again. “Mireth.”

Etzel shook his head. “No.”

The copy’s eyes narrowed. “Mireth.”

“That’s a name.” Etzel stepped lower. “But you still don’t know who you are.”

Silence. Etzel waited. Nothing. No System. No Witness. He noticed. Good. Still theory. Not understanding. Not proven.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

The copy tilted its head. “What?”

Etzel smiled. “I’m not telling you.”

Mireth stared at him. That—was new too. Etzel had stopped handing over his thoughts for free.

The copy moved suddenly. Not toward Etzel. Toward the wall. Black filament erupted. Retreat structure. Etzel recognized it.

“DK! Sever it!”

DK attacked. Infernal Severance ignited across the Greatblade. The blade cut through the filament network. Half of it burned. The copy screamed.

But another section folded. Etzel lunged. His spear pierced the false body’s shoulder. Too late. The structure began collapsing inward. DK cut again. More filament burned. The copy destabilized.

One part remained in the room. Another—vanished.

Not a clean escape. Not a complete capture. A partial failure for both sides.

The remaining body fell to the floor. Featureless. Black. Twitching.

Etzel’s System appeared.

He exhaled. Then another line.

His expression hardened. DK saw it. “What did it take?”

“I don’t know.”

That was the problem. Neris. His parents. DK. Their reactions. Maybe enough. Maybe not.

Halven entered carefully. “Containment team is coming.”

Etzel pointed at the remaining structure. “No direct contact.”

“Understood.”

Then Renn’s voice came. “Deymar family is being relocated under Authority protection.”

Veydan answered from behind Etzel. “No.”

Everyone turned. Etzel closed his eyes. “Dad.”

Veydan stepped into the room. Steel bar still in hand. He looked around. Destroyed wall. Broken furniture. Black filament body. DK in full Infernal Sovereign armor. Saeva hovering near Etzel. Then his son.

“Three days ago I learned you were a D-Rank Hunter.” Etzel opened his mouth. Veydan raised a hand. “Then I watched that thing fight for your sister.” He pointed toward DK. DK said nothing. “Now something wearing your face entered my house.”

Etzel nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“And if you are about to say you’ll explain later—”

“I’m not.”

Veydan stopped. Silence.

Etzel looked at Ismera. Then Neris. Then DK. Saeva. He had hidden things because he thought ignorance was safer. It wasn’t anymore. Mireth had made ignorance dangerous.

“Authority first,” Etzel said.

Veydan’s expression remained hard. “Then?”

Etzel answered. “Then I tell you everything.”

Neris immediately raised a finger. “Everything?”

Etzel looked at her. “Yes.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Actual everything?”

“Unfortunately.”

“That sounds promising.”

“It shouldn’t.”

The safehouse was underground. Authority-controlled. No public registration terminals. No automatic identity trust. Manual access only.

Etzel approved. Deeply.

They sat around a reinforced table. Veydan. Ismera. Neris. Etzel. DK stood nearby. Saeva sat on the table. Halven had wisely disappeared. Renn remained available through a secure channel but had not joined.

This was family. For now.

Etzel looked at all three of them. “Okay.”

Neris leaned forward immediately. “What Level are you actually?”

Etzel blinked. “That’s your first question?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Thirteen.”

Silence. Neris stared. “You’re D-Rank.”

“That’s separate.”

She looked at Veydan. Veydan rubbed his forehead.

Etzel pointed at DK. “This is DK.”

Neris stared at him. “We know.”

“No.” Etzel shook his head. “You know what he looks like.”

DK’s red eyes dimmed slightly as the helmet opened. Human face beneath. Neris had seen him before. But now the context was different.

Etzel continued. “He isn’t another Hunter.”

Veydan frowned. “What is he?”

Etzel hesitated. Then: “My summon.”

Silence. Ismera looked at DK. Then Etzel. “Summon?”

“Yes.”

Neris slowly turned toward Saeva. Then back to DK. Then Etzel. “Both?”

Etzel nodded. “Yes.”

Neris leaned back. “Of course.”

Etzel pointed at her. “That response is judgmental.”

“It’s earned.”

Etzel sighed. “There’s more.”

Veydan looked at him. “There’s worse?”

Etzel considered it. “A lot.”

Ismera closed her eyes. Etzel continued before she could stop him.

“The Ancient Tree didn’t give me what most people think it did.”

Neris frowned. “Your card says Limited Necromancer.”

“That part is true.” Etzel called his private interface. Only he could see it.

He looked at his family. “I’m a Necromancer.”

Silence. Neris looked at DK. Then Saeva. Then Etzel.

“Wait.”

Etzel braced himself. “What?”

“You really thought you could keep all of this secret and still behave normally?”

Etzel considered the question. “The plan had weaknesses.”

Neris stared. “Plan?”

“Several versions.”

“That makes it worse.”

“I know.”

For once, Etzel did not dodge the rest. His tone changed. “And something using my face is trying to learn all of you.”

The room went quiet. Etzel looked at his mother. His father. His sister.

“So I’m done hiding things.” Veydan held his gaze. Etzel continued. “If something matters to your safety, you know.”

Ismera asked quietly: “Everything?”

Etzel nodded. “Everything.”

His System appeared. He froze.

DK’s head turned immediately. Etzel stood. Another message.

“No.”

Renn’s communicator activated. “Etzel.”

Etzel was already reaching for his spear. “Where?”

Silence. Too long.

“Renn.”

His answer came. “Inside the Authority building.”

Nobody moved. Then Etzel’s System updated.

Etzel slowly looked toward the safehouse door. DK’s hand closed around the Hellscript Greatblade.

Neris stared at Etzel. “You said this place was safe.”

Etzel looked at the message. “Apparently I need to stop saying that word.”