Kazuma lay at his length on the bed within Garian Shinjo’s spare bedroom, his forehead soaked with beads of sweat. His breathing was shallow and he was beginning to run a high fever, but there was little to be done to help him. It had taken them sixteen years to discover a means to remove the Shirushi brand after Garian’s initial failure. Now they where succeeding. Tyrell watched from the sides as Karis did her best to alleviate Kazuma’s suffering. ‘The boy has surprising tenacity,’ Garian said. ‘Most men his age would be dead by now.’ ‘Where are you going?’ She asked him. The End.