Chapter 588: The Shadow of Hawthorne
In the dead woman’s hand was a letter—a farewell note, signed with her husband’s name.
When the villagers discovered this, they carried her body back to the Finch family home. Arthur Finch, just roused from sleep, was met with the news and collapsed into an earth-shattering cry. He rushed into his sister-in-law’s chamber, scooped up the wailing infant, and began making arrangements for her burial.
Once the funeral matters were settled, he cradled the child and told the crowd he would deliver the baby to his elder brother. It was his brother’s flesh and blood, after all. Even if Arthur Finch’s elder brother had taken another woman, a child could not be left without parents. With the mother gone, the father was all the more essential.
Of course, he alone knew the truth: the infant was his own son.
The villagers, touched by what they believed to be brotherly devotion, pooled together money for his journey. None of them realized they were funding the child’s final trip. Arthur accepted their donations, assuring them he would leave at dawn. But under cover of night, he took his own infant son to the edge of the village and buried him alive.
By then, Arthur had already awakened as an Earth-elemental wielder. The moment he realized the scope of his new power, his ambitions surged. He was destined for greatness, and a child was nothing but a weight around his neck.
As for his sister-in-law, it was not despair that killed her. Arthur had strangled her himself, hung her from a tree, and forged the farewell letter in his brother’s name, crafting the illusion of a suicide born of heartbreak.
Ethan’s jaw locked tight as the truth unfolded in his mind. "You old bastard," he spat, trembling with fury. "You’re worse than an animal. I’ll kill you!"
His body blurred, rage propelling him forward as he streaked toward Director Vaughn.
"If I don’t return within a day, Rainie Chen will be brainwashed and turned into a puppet!" Vaughn barked, clinging to his final bargaining chip.
"A day?" Ethan’s snarl was low and lethal. "That’s more than enough time."
"No—wait!" For the first time, fear pierced Vaughn’s confidence. He could feel Ethan’s killing intent pressing down on him, cold and absolute. It made no sense. Everything he had uncovered about Ethan painted the man as loyal, honorable, the type who would rather suffer himself than see others harmed.
But there was no hesitation in Ethan now.
Vaughn turned to flee, yet how could he possibly outrun a War God-level fighter? In a heartbeat, Ethan’s hand clamped down over his skull, fingers digging into the crown of his head.
"Soul Reading."
His fingers drove through Vaughn’s flesh like iron spikes. A flood of memories and sensations crashed into Ethan’s mind, wild and chaotic. Vaughn had lived far too long; his memories were a tangled labyrinth, impossible to sort. This was only the second time Ethan had dared to use the technique—the first being in the Sea of Death—and the backlash was brutal. His skull throbbed with splitting pain, his vision burned, and the raw force of Vaughn’s Soul Power raged like a storm. In its death throes, Vaughn’s spirit lashed back, striking with desperate fury.
Ten minutes later, Ethan pulled his hand free, wiping blood from his nose.
Celeste stared, barely able to comprehend what she had seen. The Ethan standing before her now was frighteningly powerful. When she had first met him, she recognized his potential, but never imagined he would reach such a height. In her world, Director Vaughn was untouchable—an Earth-elemental master, a Soul-Wielder, and the keeper of grotesque Ghost Parasites. His strength was legendary, rivaled by almost no one alive.
Yet against Ethan, this titan had fallen in a single exchange, unable even to resist.
Celeste steadied herself, forcing her voice calm as she stepped to his side. "What did you find?"
Ethan stared at her, stunned into silence. His mouth opened as if to speak, then closed again. No words came.
Celeste noticed his look and let a faint, knowing smile touch her lips. "You know, don’t you?"
"Yes... You..." Ethan’s voice faltered. He couldn’t finish the sentence.
"My name isn’t Vaughn. And it’s not Finch." Her eyes shifted to the corpse at their feet, the five bloody holes gouged into his skull. "My name is Hawthorne."
The weight of the revelation settled heavily between them.
Ethan’s face twisted with conflict. The man he had just killed wasn’t only a monster—it seemed he was also the biological father of Celeste’s closest friend.
More than twenty years ago, Arthur Finch had lived as a predator, a man who seized whatever he desired. He set his sights on a beautiful young woman from a wealthy family and abducted her in secret. That woman was Yvette Hawthorne—Celeste’s mother.
To the world, Yvette had simply vanished. In truth, she had been held prisoner by the man who would later become Director Vaughn. For a decade, Celeste and her mother lived as captives. When Celeste was ten, Yvette finally broke under the years of despair and passed away. Vaughn then brainwashed the child and abandoned her at an orphanage, erasing every trace of her origin.
"If you hadn’t killed him, I would have," Celeste said, catching the turmoil in Ethan’s eyes. Her voice was steady, but there was steel in it. "So don’t carry the burden. For now, what matters is rescuing Rainie Chen."
"There’s no need to search," Ethan replied quietly, as though reluctant to speak the truth aloud. "She’s in the same hidden chamber where you and your mother were kept."
For the first time, Celeste’s composure faltered. Her expression tightened, anxiety flickering in her eyes.
"It’s all right," Ethan reassured her quickly. "He planned to use her as leverage against me. He didn’t harm her."
The tension in her shoulders eased, though the shadow of worry lingered. "In that case, I’ll lead the way."
"No rush." Ethan’s gaze darkened as fragments of Vaughn’s memories resurfaced. "He was the only one who knew the exact location of that room. Which means they’re safe... for now."
"They?" Celeste asked, frowning.
"Yes." Ethan’s expression shifted, complicated. "Williams’s wife is there too."
Realization dawned. That was why Williams had betrayed them, why he had acted as Vaughn’s mole—his wife was a hostage.
"What should we do?" Celeste asked. Despite her usual independence, she was looking to Ethan now, waiting for his decision.
He studied her. She was no longer the untouchable senior from his university days, no longer the sharp rival who had once tried to steal Lyla away. Beneath the hardened exterior, she seemed... different. Maybe this was her truest self.
"First..." Ethan’s eyes moved over her, settling at last on the half of her face marred by burns. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Let’s take care of that scar. If Leo saw you like this, he might just run for the hills, don’t you think?"
Celeste had been bracing for a strategy, something grim and tactical. His teasing caught her completely off guard. The unscarred side of her face flushed crimson, the color racing all the way to her ears.
"Yaya," Ethan said, turning to the little girl at his side. "Where’s that fruit tree I got earlier?"
"It’s here." Yaya pointed to the willow circlet on her head. Dangling from it were several tiny red peach looking fruits.
"Give one to this lady," Ethan said.