《The Shadow of Aenia》 Chapter 1 : The Catalyst of Fate
Lightning flashed. Rain pounded the dirt. Shun stood at the doorway of his home, blood
The night was alive with chaos. Flames raged through the medieval town, consuming everything in their path. The thick smoke choked the air, turning the sky into a storm of embers. People ran frantically, their desperate cries blending with the crackling of burning wood. He stood frozen, staring at the inferno that had once been his home. The heat scorched his skin, but he didn¡¯t move. ¡°Mom! Dad!¡± His voice was drowned by the chaos, yet through the roar of the flames, he heard them. ¡°We are sorry, son. Forgive us.¡± Then¡ªan explosion. The blast hurled him backward, his body skidding across the dirt road. Pain shot through him, but it was nothing compared to the sight before him. His house¡ªhis entire world¡ªwas nothing but an inferno of memories reduced to ash. The once frightened child was now sixteen, his face hardened by time and loneliness. The emptiness never truly left him, except when he was with his only friend. The grasslands stretched endlessly under the golden sky. Two boys sat beneath a tree, the distant rustling of crops filling the silence. Scene: Two boys sitting under a tree in the grasslands where crops were being grown. Shun: What are you thinking about? Shinjiro: What am I supposed to do? Shun: What do you mean? Shinjiro: What is my purpose in life? Shun: (laughs) Shinjiro: Stop laughing. I really gave it a thought. Shun: You are weird. Shun: You¡¯re probably just missing your family. It¡¯s easy to start overthinking things when you¡¯re feeling lonely. Shinjiro: (looking down) Maybe. Everything seemed fine... then, one day, it all just disappeared. Shun: It doesn¡¯t matter dude. I am with you. Shinjiro: You have a happy family. You can¡¯t relate. Shinjiro was wrong. Shun had a family but it wasn¡¯t happy. His father was a soldier who had lost all his companions in the war and became a drunkard. His family consisted of Shun , his parents and an orphan who was adopted. Shun¡¯s father treated the orphan like a slave. The mother really did not care about any of her kids. She used to cheat on her husband who was drunk all the time. All of this toxicity changed Shun making him aggressive and toxic as well. Shun: Don¡¯t sink into sadness, my friend. Why don¡¯t you go grab something from the Oizo Shop? Eating always makes you feel better. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Scene: A cozy, bustling medieval restaurant with wooden tables and a large stone fireplace. The aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread fills the air as Shinjiro steps inside and takes a seat at one of the tables. Oizo: (calling from behind the counter) Let me know if you want more, kid. Shinjiro: (nodding) Okay. Shinjiro was a regular at Oizo¡¯s restaurant. Since he did not know how to cook. He ate at Oizo¡¯s restaurant. Oizo was an old man who was also an information broker and he used the restaurant as a cover for his hideous business. Oizo was a kind man , he does not charge Shinjiro at all for the food. (As Shinjiro sits down, he overhears a conversation nearby.) Man 1: (whispering to Oizo) Is he... the abandoned kid? Oizo: (frowning) Don¡¯t say it like that. Man 1: But you know what happened, right Oizo: (sighing) Yes, I remember. It was six years ago. A fire swept through the town... and then they came. Man 1: Who came? Oizo: (lowering his voice) The Arcanors. Man 1: (laughing) You¡¯re joking! Everyone knows the Arcanors are just creatures from stories. Oizo: (staring him down) I saw them with my own eyes. Man 1: You must have been drunk! Oizo: (grumbling) Maybe, but I know what I saw. Just then, Shinjiro looks up and calls out. Shinjiro: Can I get some more? Oizo: (smiling kindly) Sure, kid. Here you go. (another man enters the restaurant) Oizo: Come! What do you bring? Man2: A news. The Katagiri family are selling a slave. It¡¯s a 10 year old boy. Oizo: Shame on them. They adopted the boy to sell him? Shinjiro heard them and was hard struck by the news. He started eating hastily. Man2: Yeah sucks to be him. Oizo: Anything else? Man2: There¡¯s a rumour in the town. A mysterious man has appeared apparently someone saw him using magic to hunt a deer. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ It was a ruckus. Some bandits ganged up on Shun and were threatening him. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±, asked one of them. ¡°It¡¯s Shun Katagiri¡± ¡°The Katagiri? I know your father. He is an old bastard who owes me money.¡± Another one of them speaks, ¡°He is broke. He can¡¯t give us anything. I threatened him yesterday and he has promised to give us a slave¡± ¡°You won¡¯t have my brother!¡±, he spoke angrily. ¡°What will you do? Cry to your Whore mother¡±. Shun was enraged, He quickly grabbed the bandits dagger and attacked him. ¡°Yahh!¡±, he roared. The bandit grabbed his hand and stomped him to the ground. ¡°How dare you? Brat! Tie him. We are gonna kill him and sell his organs.¡± , the leader ordered. Someone was hiding behind the tree watching all the ruckus. One of the bandits noticed, He slowly walked towards the tree. ¡°Come Out!¡± A man reveals himself, he wore a white cloak which was in contrast with his black hair. He looked young probably 22 years old. The man raises his hand. ¡°Boss! I caught him spying on us.¡± ¡°I was just passing by¡±, the man said. Boss: We are lucky today. Tie him up too. ¡°That¡¯s a bad idea. I am not worth the trouble¡± Boss: (laughs) You think you are some kind of vigilante?¡± Shun was conscious now, He watched the mysterious man closely. ¡°You are awake.¡±, said the man. Boss: Who are you talking to? ¡°Look at him. The boy is miserable. Let him go¡±, said the man. Boss: Let him go? He¡¯s not going anywhere neither are you. Attack him. The bandits dashed towards the man with weapons in their hands. Shun: He¡¯s going to die. ¡°What a pain!¡± They had stopped. The bandits were not moving. It was as if the time had stopped but time cannot be stopped. The man had altered the senses of every living being around making them move infinitely slow making it look as they had froze. The only person who was able to move was Shun. Shun: What is happening? The man comes forward and unties Shun. He speaks, ¡°My name is Rakk¡±. Shun: How did you do that? Rakk: I was just able to. What will you do now? Shun: What do you mean? Rakk: I saw. Your father will sell your brother. The bandits will probably kill your father. Your mother will leave you. Shun: Nooo! It¡¯s not true. Rakk: Who are you lying to? Me? Or Yourself? I will leave then. Shun: No! They will start moving again. Rakk: Yeah they will. What will you do? Shun: I will run away. Hold them off till then. Rakk: No! Escarius Miuishn! Rakk had stopped his spell and used another spell on Shun. Shun¡¯s eyes were darkened. He saw illusions of his father and the bandits killing his brother and him. Shun: Noo!! Boss: What happened? Where did he go? Who untied the kid? Rakk had become invisible. It was a feature of the white cloak he wore. The bandits approached Shun. Shun saw them as evil monsters. Everything was blurry. ¡°Don¡¯t try to run away¡± ¡°Come here and die¡±, (what shun heard) Shun: Arghhhhh!! Stop!! ¡°What is wrong with him?¡±, one of them said. Shun: Don¡¯t come near me!! Shun hears a voice, ¡°Help me big brother!¡± Shun: Fiol !! Rakk appears again. ¡°Escarius Niuishn¡±. Time had froze again. Rakk: Open your eyes. It was an illusion. Shun: Don¡¯t come near me. Rakk: You saw. It¡¯s inevitable. It¡¯s going to happen. These bandits, your father, your mother, your brother. Shun: Noo! Rakk: I am giving you an option. Join me and I¡¯ll help you. Shun: Please! Help me! (crying) Rakk: Help yourself. Protect your brother. Eradicate the evils. Shun: How? I am weak. Rakk: Weakness is a choice. I will teach you how to fight against the world. Shun: Who are you? Rakk: We are the Daimyojin. Rakk walks towards him and gives him a dagger. ¡°Escarium!¡± The bandits unfroze but they moved very slowly. Rakk: Kill them. Shun roared, ¡° Yahhhhhhhh¡±. He stabbed them one by one. His face and hands covered in blood. He was angry, sad and happy at the same time. Shinjiro was running around the village trying to find Shun. He tried every place he knew but unfortunately failed to track him. He was concerned about him. He went back to Oizo¡¯s shop to ask for help. He slammed the door open in a haste. Oizo: What happened kid? Shinjiro: I can¡¯t find Shun. I heard you talking about the Katagiri family selling Shun¡¯s brother. Help me old man. Oizo: I can¡¯t do anything about it. Shinjiro: Please! Help me save him. I will pay you. Oizo: I am ordered not to do anything. Shinjiro: Tell your boss, I will give my house to him. Oizo: You can¡¯t do that. Shinjiro: I don¡¯t have a choice. He¡¯s the only family I have. Oizo: Let¡¯s go, I will come with you. It was the dawn but the sky was covered with cloud, it was dark as the middle of the night. Shun¡¯s father was drinking again. His mother seemed to be getting ready to go somewhere. A knock was heard on the Katagiri house door. ¡°Fiol ! Open the door.¡±, Shun¡¯s father shouted. ¡°Go open it yourself. Did you forget that you tied him so he cannot escape.¡±, replied the mother Shun¡¯s father walked towards the door in a sluggish manner and opened the door. It was Shun standing at the door covered in blood. ¡°What happened to you?¡± A lightning struck and rain started with thunderstorm. The rain washed away the blood on Shun¡¯s face. It was a long silence. ¡°Who has come?¡± curiously the mother arrived and saw her son. ¡°Shun! Where have you been all day? No work has been done all day.¡±, said the mother. The mother did not see the blood. Shun¡¯s father mood changed often . His mental trauma caused him to see illusion as well. He was suffering. ¡°You brat! No work has been done all day!¡±, the father slapped Shun. Shun: Where is Fiol? ¡°He¡¯s tied in the room. I don¡¯t have any money, I have no choice but to sell him.¡±, the father started crying. Shun: There¡¯s no need. I killed them. You don¡¯t owe anything to anyone. ¡°What?¡±, Shun¡¯s mother exclaimed. Father: (yelling) Shun, what were you thinking?! (He slaps Shun hard, and Shun stumbles back, clutching his cheek.) Mother: (coldly) Who taught you to lie? Trying to save him? He¡¯ Shun pushed his father away and broke into the room and unties Fiol. (Suddenly, loud banging comes from the door.) Voice from Outside: Open up! Or I¡¯ll break it down! Shun looks around, panic filling his eyes. Shun: (thinking quickly) Fiol, get out through the window! Now! (Fiol rushes to the window, but as he starts climbing out, his father storms in, grabbing him.) Father: Where do you think you¡¯re going? (Shun grabs a nearby stick and swings it at his father¡¯s hand, freeing Fiol.) Fiol: (climbing out the window) Brother! Come with me! Shun: (firmly) Go! Now! (Fiol hesitates, then jumps out and vanishes into the night. Shun turns to face his furious father, fear and defiance mixing in his gaze.) Father: (mockingly) You think you¡¯re an adult now? (The father picks up a sharp piece of broken glass, stepping closer to Shun.) Father: Shun! Shun: I know you are suffering! Wake up father! Father: (starts crying) Why did you do it? Why kill them? The Father was seeing illusions again of the man who killed his companions in the war. Shun: It¡¯s me! Father: (raged) (Suddenly, everything freezes, and Rakk appears in the corner of the room.) Shun: Help me! Rakk: (handing him a knife) Kill him. Shun: (shocked) No! He¡¯s my father. Rakk: (shrugging) Then do as you wish. (Time resumes. Shun¡¯s father brings the glass down, cutting into Shun¡¯s shoulder. Just then, Shinjiro and Fiol burst into the room.) Shinjiro: Shun! Fiol: Brother! Father: (spitting) come here. I¡¯ll deal with you myself! Shinjiro: Stop! What are you doing to your own children? (The father lunges toward Shinjiro, shoving him against the wall.) Fiol: No! No! Shun: (screaming) Stop!!! (Once again, time freezes) Rakk: Your brother and friend are both in danger. Accept my offer, and you can save them. Kill him. Shun: (trembling) I... I¡¯m afraid. He¡¯s my father. Rakk: Don¡¯t you see how your father is suffering as well as your brother, your friend. Father: (crying) Why? Shun had stabbed his father in the heart. (The townspeople rush into the room, followed by Shun¡¯s mother, who takes in the scene with horror.) Mother: He... he killed my husband! Shun: (breathless and crying) (Fiol, in shock, faints. The townspeople restrain Shun) Shinjiro: No! He¡¯s not a criminal! Oizo: (pulling Shinjiro back) Stay away, Shinjiro. Shun: (to Shinjiro) I¡¯m sorry, Shinjiro. I have to go. (Time freezes again. Rakk steps forward.) Rakk: You made the right choice. Shun: Take me wherever you want. Shinjiro dashes towards them getting caught in the spell. (Rakk places a hand on Shun¡¯s shoulder, and in a flash of light, the three of them vanish.) (scene change) Scene: A dimly lit, cold stone prison. Water drips from the ceiling, and rats scurry across the floor. Shinjiro wakes up, his hands and feet tied, feeling the sting of pain in his leg. Guard: (throwing water in his face) Wake up! Shinjiro: (blinking) Where am I? Hiroko: (leaning down to meet his gaze) I am Hiroko of the Royal Capital. Are you a spy? Shinjiro: (desperately) No! Where is Shun? Hiroko: (coldly) Break his bones. (A guard strikes strike his leg with an iron bar) Chapter 2: Warriors Judgement The entrance to the cave was hidden, swallowed by the thick, gnarled roots of ancient trees that seemed to claw at the earth, as if trying to keep whatever lay inside buried forever. The air around it was unnaturally still¡ªno wind, no birdsong, no rustling leaves¡ªonly silence. It was as if the world itself refused to acknowledge what lurked within. Stepping inside was like crossing into another world. The cave walls, rough and jagged, bore strange markings, old symbols carved deep into the stone¡ªsome faded with time, others still fresh, as if someone had added them not long ago. A faint glow pulsed from some of them, casting eerie shadows that twisted and stretched like living things. The deeper one went, the colder it became¡ªnot the natural chill of underground stone, but something far more unnatural. The air was heavy, thick with an unseen force pressing down on the chest, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. Every footstep echoed, not just once, but twice¡ªlike something unseen was walking alongside those who entered. Scene: An old dark cave with candles brimming with golden light as the dark intensifies. (A man standing) ¡°Welcome!¡± ¡°I shall tell you the truth about this world. It¡¯s history has been hid by the royals. You have been lied to. The towns you have been living in are just an illusion. It¡¯s an another dimension created by the king to fool you. The truth is the world is not peaceful at all. This world is cursed. The Arcanors are hiding in the darkness waiting to prey.¡± (A voice) ¡°So it was true. The Arcanors are real!¡± (Another voice) ¡°The king was protecting us by having us live in another dimension¡± ¡°No! The king ***** cowardly ***** ***** ***** ***** ****** ***** * **** * ***¡± ¡°But don¡¯t worry. We are the protectors of this world.¡± ¡°We are Daimyojins!¡± (scene change) Scene: Inside the Cave Rakk: "You¡¯re restless." Shun: (not looking up) "I don¡¯t sleep well." Rakk: (raising an eyebrow) "That¡¯s not it. You¡¯re carrying something heavier than lack of sleep." Shun: (scoffing) "Aren¡¯t we all?" (Rakk remains silent, waiting. Shun finally stops sharpening his dagger and exhales deeply, staring into the flames.) Shun: "My father... he wasn¡¯t always the man I killed. He used to be different. Or maybe I just wanted to believe that." (Rakk leans forward slightly, listening.) Shun: "He was a soldier once. A good one. He fought in the border wars, where men lived and died by their instincts. He survived battles that swallowed entire armies. And when he came home... he brought the war with him." Rakk: (quietly) "War changes men." Shun: (bitterly) "Yeah. It made him a monster." (He clenches his jaw, remembering.) Shun: "He thought the only way to raise strong sons was through discipline. But his idea of discipline was beatings, humiliation, and fear. To him, love was weakness, and kindness was a disease. My mother... she didn¡¯t stop him. She encouraged it. And Fiol... he was just a child. He didn¡¯t deserve any of it." (Rakk watches him carefully, the flickering firelight reflecting in his sharp eyes.) Rakk: "And the night you killed him?" (Shun''s grip tightens on his dagger.) Shun: "That night... was different. He was going to sell Fiol. Said he wasn¡¯t worth feeding anymore. That he was ¡®too soft¡¯ to be of any use. I was tied to a chair, forced to watch. And then¡ªyou offered me a way out." Shun: Rakk, Why did you bring me here? Rakk: You heard it. Right? This world is cursed with these royals and Arcanors. The people have been used all their lifes in suffering. I saved you because You are going to change it as prophesised. Shun: A prophecy? Rakk: ¡°He shall come, He who lived a thousand years ago, S shall come back¡± Shun: How can you be sure it¡¯s me? Rakk: You are just a candidate. There are 13 candidates in total. 8 of them have been already identified. The Aetherblades posses 4 of them and We possess 4 of them. Shun: What are the Aetherblades? Rakk: They are a group of slayers who are independent of the royals. But there are some royals in the Aetherblades so they have influence in it. Rakk: Now, It¡¯s time to start your training. Shun: Are you sure? I killed my own father. I am a bad person. Rakk: There are somethings evil you do for greater good. You saved your brother and your friends life. Rakk: Thinking about your friend. I dropped him somewhere. Shun: What do you mean? Rakk: I was sure I had stopped everything when I teleported. Your friend moved towards us and got teleported somewhere. Shun: He must be near then? Rakk: Yes. But you can¡¯t meet him. (scene change) Scene: Inside the underground prison The air was thick, damp, and heavy with the scent of rusted iron and decay. The prison was carved deep beneath the surface, its walls rough and uneven, as if the stone itself had been unwilling to house the wretched souls thrown into it. Flickering torches lined the narrow corridor, casting long, twisted shadows that danced like specters against the walls. The cells were nothing more than iron bars welded into jagged stone, some barely large enough for a man to stand. Chains hung from the walls, rusted and stained¡ªremnants of those who had been here before. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped endlessly, a slow, maddening sound that filled the silence like a heartbeat. At the very end of the corridor, Shinjiro sat on the cold, hard floor. His wrists were bound, the chains cutting into his skin whenever he shifted even slightly. The chill of the stone seeped into his bones, making it impossible to get comfortable, but comfort didn¡¯t belong in a place like this. Neither did hope. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Man1: Hirako-sir! (Hirako is around 50 years old) Hirako: Wake him up! Hirako carried the weight of experience and regret in his every step. He wasn¡¯t a man of grand presence, but the moment he entered a room, there was an undeniable gravity to him¡ªa man who had seen too much and spoken too little. His dark, shoulder-length hair was streaked with silver, a testament to the years he had spent surviving in a world that didn¡¯t favor men like him. His face was sharp, hardened by time, with tired but piercing eyes¡ªa shade of deep brown, almost black, yet carrying the quiet intelligence of a man who had learned to see through lies. His features weren¡¯t handsome nor intimidating, but there was something unsettling about him¡ªthe way he looked at people, like he was always seeing more than what they showed. He wore a simple black cloak, old but well-kept, fastened with a single, unmarked silver clasp. Beneath it, his clothes were practical, built for movement rather than status. No unnecessary decorations, no signs of wealth¡ªjust a man who had long abandoned the idea of impressing anyone. His boots barely made a sound when he walked, and his presence often went unnoticed unless he wanted it to be felt. Hirako¡¯s voice was low and measured, carrying neither warmth nor coldness¡ªjust truth. He didn¡¯t waste words, nor did he soften them. Everything he said had weight. He was a man who believed in survival above all else, but somewhere beneath that hardened exterior, there was a part of him that still cared. A part that had decided to guide Shinjiro. (throws water on Shinjiro tied with his hand and feet) Shinjiro: (wakes up) Hahh! ..Where..am..I? Hirako: I am Hirako of the Royal Capital. Shinjiro: Where is Shun? Shinjiro was confused and worried about his friend Shun. Hirako: Are you a spy? Shinjiro: No. Why am I here? Hirako: Break his bones. Man1: No hard feelings. (smacks a heavy rod on Shinjiro¡¯s leg) Shinjiro: Arghhhh!! Arghhh!! Hirako: Talk! Shinjiro: It hurts. (cries) Hirako: I said to talk. Shinjiro: Why are you doing this? Why am I here? (his voice crackling with pain) Hirako: We found you outside the capital. You don¡¯t have a identitiy. You are either a spy of the Daimyojin or a slave who ran away. Shinjiro: I am not a spy. I promise! I am not a slave either! Hirako: I hope you are not lying. Man1: You have gone too soft sir. Hirako: He¡¯s just a kid. He screamed with pain, He has never broken a bone before. He can¡¯t be a spy. (Another person arrives) Man2: An order from the royal capital. Hirako: What is it? Man2: The spy we captured few months ago will be identifying him. Hirako: Very well then. Bring him with me! (scene change) Scene: A prison cell Man1: Open it! (The guard opens the cell) Man1: Wake up! Hirako-sir is here! Prisoner: Hirako officer! Why are you here? Hirako: Do you know this kid? Prisoner: Yes. I know, Jin! How are you here? Shinjiro: (to himself) What is going on here? Hirako: He is a spy with you? Prisoner: Yes. Shinjiro: No! He is lying. My name is Shinjiro. Why are you lying old man? Prisoner: We have trained to act very well, Come up with new names. Act like we are innocent, They are trained to not give up information even if it costs their life. Shinjiro: Shut up! You are lying! Prisoner: They train these kids so that it¡¯s easy to manipulate people. As I remember he was also involved with the fire breakout 6 months ago. Prisoner: Sorry to bring that up, you lost your family, didn¡¯t you Hirako officer? Shinjiro: Shuttt upp!!! You liarr!!! Hirako: (pins Shinjiro to the ground) You evil! Just because you are a kid, I was easy on you. You know what you did a month ago. Shinjiro: I did not do anything.(crying) Shinjiro: How do you know he¡¯s not lying? Prisoner: The royal priest Patrick put a spell on me. I can not lie. Shinjiro: Put it on me too. And you will know I am not lying. Hirako: Where is priest? Man1: He¡¯s out of the capital. Man2: Sir! Sir Damian is here to take the prisoner. Hirako: Lock both of them for now. (scene change) (Hirako and gaurds left) Shinjiro: Why did you lie? Old man? (crying) Prisoner: I have to get out of here. You just got caught up in all this. Shinjiro: Why? I want to go home! (crying) Prisoner: You are just a sacrifice for a greater cause. Shinjiro: I will tell them the truth. Prisoner: You can not do anything. Just give up kid. You will see yourself wanting to die. Shinjiro: But why me? (crying) Prisoner: You were just there. It¡¯s not your fault. If someone is wrong here. It¡¯s fate. Shinjiro: Noo! I don¡¯t wanna die! Man1: Let¡¯s go prisoner! Prisoner: The sooner you die, it will be much better. (scene change) Shinjiro: I am not a spy. I have done nothing wrong! Hirako: Enough crying. Get him up. (The guards storm in, grabbing Shinjiro by his arms and hauling him to his feet. He struggles, his voice breaking.) Shinjiro: Let me go! Please! I didn¡¯t do anything! Hirako: (Ignoring him) Bring him to the post. They drag Shinjiro out of the cell into the central chamber of the prison block, where a wooden post stands, its surface scarred from past punishments. The guards force Shinjiro¡¯s arms above his head, tying his wrists tightly to the post. Shinjiro: (Panic rising) No! Stop! Please! I¡¯m innocent! Hirako picks up a leather whip from the table nearby, its edges worn but still sharp. He flicks it in the air, the sound cracking like thunder. Shinjiro flinches, tears streaming down his face. Hirako: Who sent you? Speak, or this will only get worse. Shinjiro: (Screaming) No one sent me! I swear! I¡¯m not a spy! Hirako¡¯s expression remains cold as he swings the whip. The first lash strikes Shinjiro¡¯s back, tearing through his thin shirt. He screams, his body jerking against the ropes. Shinjiro: ARGHHH! STOP! PLEASE! Hirako: (Calmly) Tell me the truth. Who are you working for? Shinjiro: (Crying) No one! I don¡¯t know anything! Please stop! The whip cracks again, leaving another red welt on his back. Shinjiro¡¯s screams echo through the chamber, mingling with the chuckles of the prisoner watching from his cell. One of the guards slams a baton against the prisoner¡¯s cell bars, silencing him. Hirako focuses back on Shinjiro, his voice colder now. Hirako: Last chance. Speak, or you¡¯ll wish you had. Shinjiro: (Pleading through his sobs) I¡¯m innocent! Please, you have to believe me! The door creaks open, and Officer Kaede enters. Her sharp gaze takes in the scene¡ªShinjiro¡¯s trembling form, the whip in Hirako¡¯s hand, and the blood staining the floor. Kaede: Enough. Hirako lowers the whip, stepping back as Kaede approaches Shinjiro. She grabs his chin roughly, forcing him to meet her icy stare. Kaede: You¡¯re a mess, boy. If you¡¯re innocent, you¡¯d better start proving it. She releases him with a shove, turning to Hirako. Kaede: What¡¯s the status? Hirako: He claims he¡¯s innocent. The prisoner says otherwise. Kaede: (Nods) Bring the priest. Let the spell decide. Hirako: That could take weeks. Until then? Kaede: (Coldly) Keep him alive. Barely. We¡¯ll see how much truth a broken spirit can reveal. (Kaede leaves, and the guards untie Shinjiro from the post. He collapses to the ground, trembling and barely conscious. Hirako kneels beside him, his voice low.) Hirako: This is only the beginning. You¡¯d better hope you¡¯re not lying. He stands and walks away, the sound of his footsteps fading as Shinjiro lies motionless, his quiet sobs the only sound in the empty chamber. Scene: Prison yard, a week later Shinjiro is forced to work alongside other prisoners, hauling heavy stones under the watchful eyes of the guards. His back is covered in healing welts, and his movements are slow and strained. Hirako observes from a distance, his arms crossed. Guard: (Yelling) Move faster, boy, or you¡¯ll end up back at the post! Shinjiro stumbles and falls, the stone slipping from his grasp. The guard raises his baton, but Hirako intervenes, his voice calm but firm. Hirako: That¡¯s enough. The guard steps back reluctantly. Hirako approaches Shinjiro, who struggles to sit up, his breaths ragged. Hirako: (Quietly) Still alive? Shinjiro: (Weakly) Why... why are you doing this to me? Hirako doesn¡¯t answer immediately. He crouches down, meeting Shinjiro¡¯s gaze. Hirako: If you¡¯re innocent, prove it. Until then, survive. Shinjiro¡¯s eyes fill with tears, but he nods faintly. Hirako stands and walks away, his steps heavy with doubt. The boy¡¯s screams from the whipping still linger in his mind, challenging everything he thought he knew about justice. Scene: Hirako sitting in his office (A guard enters) Hirako: What happened? Guard: We have news from the capital. Priest Patrick has gone missing. Hirako: What?? Hirako rushes towards Shinjiro¡¯s cell Hirako: Boy! The priest has gone missing. Shinjiro: You mean? I can¡¯t prove my innocence? Hirako: Yes. Shinjiro: (silence) Shinjiro remembers the prisoner¡¯s word ¡°the sooner you die, it will be much better¡± Shinjiro: Kill me ! Hirako: Guards! Leave! (Both guards leave the cell) Hirako: Why do you want to die? Shinjiro: Then what the hell do you want me to do????(angry) Shinjiro: Survive until then..Bullshit. I did! Now what??? Why am I going through this?? I did nothing wrong. Hirako: I believe you. Shinjiro: You believe me?? Don¡¯t make me laugh!!! You!! You tortured me! Hirako: I did my job. My family died 8 months ago in the fire. I had a son your age. Shinjiro: The fire? My father said I am sorry and he disappeared with everyone else. He left me!! He abandoned me!! I did not do anything about that fire! I did not kill your family! My own family left me!! My friend! I don¡¯t know where he is! (crying) Hirako: (silence) Shinjiro: Tell me what was my fault? Hirako: I don¡¯t know. Shinjiro: (grabs Hirako¡¯s knife) Yahhhhhh!!! Hirako: No. (He was about to stab himself) Shinjiro: I don¡¯t wanna die!! Old man! I don¡¯t wanna kill myself!! Hirako: I will find a way. (Damian enters the cell with Kaede) Damian: Hirako! We have confirmed his identity. He is a spy and he needs to die. Hirako: How? How did you confirm it? Damian: The prisoner told me. Hirako: He must be lying. Kaede: Hirako! There is no need. It¡¯s an order from the royal capital. Damian: Throw him in the valley. He will die by the little beasts we captured. (end) Chapter 3: Echoes of Loss, Dawn of Resolve (6 months ago) Scene: Inside a house Father! Look. Hirako: Oh, you look beautiful daughter. Are you going? She replies, Yes! I am going with mother and my friends are also going to be there (A festival was celebrated every year in the outskirts of the royal capital which was a great piece of attraction for the people living there. Hirako¡¯s daughter was 11 years old . Being his only child, Hirako loved her more than anything) Will you not come with me? , says the child. Hirako: I am sorry Alicia, but I have to go to the royal capital. (Alicia was the daughter¡¯s name. It means noble natured. She had black hair and her face looked as her mothers) It¡¯s time to go or we will be late , the mother arrives to the scene. Alicia: I will not go without father. My all friends are coming with their parents. Hirako: Don¡¯t be like that. I will try my best and arrive at the festival before it ends. Okay? Alicia: Okay. Take care, Husband , kissing Hirako on the cheeks. (scene change) (A few hours passed by. The festival was at it¡¯s climax. Hirako had managed to finish his work and was on the way to reach the festival) Scene: Hirako was riding a carriage to the festival. Mr Noble Sir, Is it true about that cult? , asks the coachman. (The carriage driver is called the coachman or whip) Hirako: It¡¯s not something you people have to worry about. We will be dealing with them soon enough. The Arcanors are a lot of trouble on their own and these cults have been stressing the people. Hirako: Yeah, you are right. The Arcanors are a real issue but the last time we faced any was 10 years ago. How can I forget that? I thought It was all going to end but they showed up. Hirako: Those bastards, though they are helpful. They always cause a mess and they don¡¯t come under the royal jurisdiction. (The horses stumble) What was that? (It was a blast. A sound was heard following the shockwaves) Hirako: Where did it come from? It¡¯s the festival (Hirako grabs his knife and cuts the rope joining the horse to the carriage) Hirako: Lend me your horse. Hurry up sir, It¡¯s all yours (Hirako rushes with the horse to the site) (The tall structures made for circus, rides, the festival lights all collapsed. A fire emerging devouring everything. It was chaos people running away. The people ran for their life and if someone fell, they were stomped. The children in particular. It¡¯s a reality of the world) (Hirako arrives at the entrance and sees the chaos) Hirako: Don¡¯t panic! Run towards the wells and bring whatever you can. (Hirako gets off the horse and runs toward the festival pushing others against one by one) (Hirako was stunned at the sight seeing nothing but destruction. He searched for his wife and his daughter. He kept searching but ..) Alicia! Jona! Where are you? (running in the fire) Alicia!! (scene change) (Present) Scene: Hirako riding the carriage. We have arrived , Sir Hirako: Thank you for your help. It¡¯s my pleasure to help you Sir. That¡¯s all I can do (The coachman left with the carriage) (Hirako was standing at the gate of a house) Who are you? , asks the guard. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. I want to meet him. Tell him my name is Hirako. (The guard comes back after a while and opens the gate) Follow me (The guard leads him to the guest room in the house) Sit down (Hirako sits down on the sofa) (A man enters. He looked young, probably 26 years old) You can leave now , says the man to the guard. (And he proceeds to sit down in front of Hirako) It¡¯s been a while. Why are you here? Old-man. Hirako: Iris ! Help him. Iris: Who are you talking about? Hirako: You already know. Iris: The spy? Why should I help him? Hirako: It¡¯s because I believe him. Iris: Are you sane? It must be easy for him to fool you. Hirako: He is just an innocent boy. When I look at him, I feel pity for him. Iris: Is that all? Hirako: He resembles you from the time I first met you. The reason for me to become an royal officer was you. Iris: I am glad to hear you praise me. But I don¡¯t help criminals. Hirako: Iris Hawke! I believe in that boy. Save him! Iris: After that? Where is he going? Leave the capital and join the Daimyojins. Hirako: I will hide him from all. Iris: Why go that far? Hirako: You asked me the same question years ago and my reply is the same. Iris: You can go home. I will bring him to you. (Scene change) Scene: Shinjiro with handcuffs ready to be thrown in the valley. (It was a small cliff leading to a forest but one could not know the depth as it was covered with dense fog . Even if someone fell down they would not die from the fall but from the beasts ) Damian: Throw him! (The guards pick Shinjiro) Shinjiro: No! Please ! No! (The guards were struggling with Shinjiro) Damian: Do it! (After a lot of struggle they managed to throw him down) (Shinjiro landed on back and fainted) Shinjiro: (opens his eyes) I am alive. How? (He tries to stand up on his feet and runs towards the forest away from the cliff) Shinjiro: I was lucky. Thank you God. I can escape this hell finally. (Shinjiro hears a sound, a wolf grumbling his teeth. It looked like a wolf but it was bigger and more furious.) (Damian was standing on the cliff with the gaurds and Kaede) Damian: He must be dead by now. Kaede: Possibly. (Iris arrives) Iris: What are you people doing here? Damian: Why are you here? Iris: It¡¯s my hunting ground. Kaede: It¡¯s him. Iris Hawke, He is an Aetherblade. Iris: Do we have a problem here? Damian: It¡¯s an execution ground. Come back later. Iris: I am going down. Damian: Didn¡¯t you hear me? Iris: (stares at him) I did. You should shut up before you piss me off. Kaede: Mr. Damian. Let him do what he wants. Damian: (nervous) You are right. (scene change) Shinjiro: What was that? (The wolf jumps at him) Shinjiro: (falls down dodging it) A wolf? No it is a beast. I am going to die! (Wolf grumbles again and attacks him) (Iris arrived at the scene and cuts him down) Shinjiro: I am saved! (to himself) Iris: Are you the spy? Shinjiro: No. Iris: Who are you then? What are you doing here? Shinjiro: They wanted to kill me and threw me here. Iris: So you are the spy. Shinjiro: I am not a spy. Believe me. Iris: Oh! (walks towards him) Shinjiro: I mean it. I am not a spy!! (he raises his hand for defense) Iris: (cuts the chain binding his hands) Shinjiro: (opens his eyes) I am alive. Thank you for believing me. Who are you? Iris: Stand up. Shinjiro: Thank you. Iris: Go ran away. Shinjiro: Thank you again. Shinjiro: Where should I go? (realises) (Shinjiro stops all of a sudden) Shinjiro: Mister! Where am I supposed to go? Iris: Your home. If you are not a spy. And to the Daimyojin¡¯s hideout If you are spy. I will track you down. Shinjiro: I don¡¯t have a home. I can¡¯t go back to the village. I have no one there. Iris: What about your parents? Shinjiro: They disappeared. I don¡¯t know why. It was my fault I guess. I wasn¡¯t able to do anything. I lost my friend too, if only I understood him and could help him. I am sorry if I talk too much it¡¯s been a while since I talked like this. (cries) Iris: (to himself) It was probably not his fault. Shinjiro: Where am I supposed to go? (cries) Iris: Listen kid! Become an aetherblade! (knocks Shinjiro out) (Iris brought Shinjiro safely to Hirako) Shinjiro woke up but his memory was vivid about what happened. He did remember Iris and Hirako told Shinjiro about how Iris saved his life. Shinjiro¡¯s body healed after some months. He did not leave the house as Hirako was being careful about protecting and hiding him. (Hirako writing his journal) Shinjiro¡¯s physical wounds have healed now. But even though he smiles, I feel a sense of sadness from him. He asks me about his friend. I am trying to investigate about him but I know nothing at the moment. He is getting frustrated about not able to go outside. It has been 6 months since I met him. I let him go outside today, Today has been one year since I lost my family. The same day of the festival. I miss you Alice and Joan! (In the festival, A show was going on) Historian: ( Standing atop a stone platform, addressing a gathering of young recruits in the glow of a setting sun. ) In the Age of Ruin, the world was unrecognizable. The skies wept ash, the earth cracked under endless wars, and from the void came the Arcanors¡ªmonstrosities born of hatred and despair. Armies crumbled, cities fell, and hope seemed to vanish like breath on a cold morning. ( The Historian gestures to an ancient emblem etched into the stone¡ªa symbol of crossed blades wreathed in energy. ) But in that darkness, one man stood against the tide. S. The Aetherblade. A name spoken not with reverence, but with awe, as if it could burn the tongue. Young Listener: ( Leaning forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. ) They say he was a god. Is that true? Historian: ( Chuckles dryly, their voice lowering to a solemn murmur. ) A god? No. S was mortal¡ªflesh and bone like you and me. But he carried within him a power no god could match. He didn¡¯t wield aether as others did¡ªhe became it. His strength was unrelenting, his strikes like the wrath of the heavens. Alone, he held back the Arcanors when armies could not. ( The Historian¡¯s voice grows heavier, filled with awe and sorrow. ) But even S knew he couldn¡¯t fight forever. And so, he forged a brotherhood. A handful of warriors who had witnessed his strength and followed him into the fire. These were the first Aetherblades¡ªnot soldiers, not generals, but warriors driven by sheer will and unbreakable resolve. Skeptical Listener: ( Frowning. ) How could he trust anyone with power like his? Wouldn¡¯t they falter? Historian: ( Turning sharply, their gaze piercing. ) S didn¡¯t choose them for their strength or skill. He chose them for their hearts¡ªtheir refusal to bow to fear, their resolve to stand even when death loomed. Under his guidance, they learned to harness the energy within themselves, though none ever matched his brilliance. ( The Historian pauses, drawing the audience into the weight of their words. ) When S vanished after the final battle, his group remained. They were no longer just a handful of warriors. They had become a symbol of resistance¡ªa shield against the darkness. The Aetherblades rose as an order, not to conquer, but to defend. To carry forward S¡¯s legacy: that strength is a duty, not a privilege. Elder Listener: ( Speaking softly, with a tinge of melancholy. ) But even now, they say the Aetherblades still seek him, don¡¯t they? Historian:( Nods slowly. ) They do. Because while they stand as protectors of this fractured world, they know the truth. Should the Arcanors rise again, should the world teeter once more on the brink of ruin, it is not they who will save us. Young Listener:( Eyes widening. ) It will be him. Historian:( Smiling faintly, looking toward the distant horizon. ) Yes. S. The Aetherblade. The one who led us into the light, and who, perhaps, will return when the shadows threaten to consume us once more. Chapter 4: Genesis of Trials Scene: Inside the room, Hirako writing his diary. ¡°It has been a year since Shinjiro escaped from that hell. It took his body six months to recover. I saw an unusual thing, his body¡¯s mobility had increased and it was probably due to torture. His muscles have been built quite well doing all the work in prison. I was thinking these were unimportant things until he showed up after the festival and said he wants to be an Aetherblade like Iris. It was a real shock to me. I tried to change his mind but he said , ¡° I could not feel happiness even though you made my life easier and I had no problems. I miss Shun and my family, I can¡¯t forget about them. I was really asking myself whatever happened to me was it my fault? Iris told me it was not my fault. I can live my whole life like this but I will never be happy. I want to move forward. I need to understand my purpose in life. I want to be strong.¡± I replied to him, ¡°For some people there is no purpose in life. They just live their life.¡± What he said was really astonishing to me , ¡°I am not one of them¡± _ For six months, Hirako trained his body and mind to the best he could. He taught him basics of fighting. Hirako was consciously supporting him but unconsciously he knew Shinjiro did not stand a chance or maybe if he did , it would be one percent. Hirako is not wrong. Shinjiro has no skills or rather he had no time to learn them. Even if he wanted, he was a wanted person who could not leave his house. _ The morning was cold and silent, with a faint mist clinging to the cobblestone streets as the carriage rattled through the outskirts of the royal capital. Lennox loomed in the distance, a sprawling fortress that seemed carved from the bones of the earth itself. Its towering spires pierced the skies, and its gates, etched with ancient glyphs, radiated an almost divine aura. Inside the carriage, Hirako glanced at Shinjiro. His face was calm, but his clenched fists and the way his shoulders slightly tensed betrayed the storm raging within him. "Shinjiro," Hirako began hesitantly, breaking the silence, "even if you''ve prepared, the trial isn''t just about skill or strength. It''s also about resilience. They will break you." Shinjiro turned his gaze to him, his expression unwavering. "They can''t break what''s already shattered." Hirako sighed, leaning back into the creaking seat. "You¡¯re stubborn, just like Iris. Do you even know what you''re walking into? You¡¯re not just facing physical trials. The stigma of your past, of being falsely branded a criminal, will follow you. The other initiates won¡¯t be kind." "I don¡¯t need their kindness," Shinjiro replied firmly. "I need to prove to myself that I¡¯m more than what they think I am. If I fail, it will be because I wasn¡¯t strong enough¡ªnot because I gave up before trying." Hirako said nothing more, but his mind churned. Despite his doubts, there was a spark in Shinjiro¡¯s eyes that even years of torment hadn¡¯t extinguished. Perhaps that spark was what truly made him different. Scene: Arrival at Lennox The carriage came to a halt before the gates of Lennox. Guards clad in gleaming silver armor stood rigid, their expressions stoic as they inspected the arriving initiates. Each initiate was given a mark upon entry, an enchanted sigil that would monitor their performance throughout the trial. As Shinjiro stepped out, the weight of the place hit him. The sheer scale of the fortress, the hum of ancient magic that lingered in the air¡ªit was overwhelming. Yet, he walked forward, his head held high. The other initiates, clad in fine clothes and bearing the confident air of nobility, turned to look at him. Their whispers weren¡¯t subtle. "Isn¡¯t that the criminal?" "What¡¯s he doing here? This has to be a joke." "They¡¯re letting anyone take the trial now." Shinjiro ignored them, his gaze fixed on the grand archway ahead. Hirako, walking beside him, leaned in and whispered, "Don¡¯t let them get to you. They¡¯ll try to rattle you before it even begins." "I know," Shinjiro said softly. His voice was calm, but his fists clenched as he resisted the urge to respond to the murmurs. He couldn¡¯t afford distractions. Not here. Inside the arena, the atmosphere was even more intense. Rows of seats circled a central platform where the trials would take place. Above it all, the Arcanors observed from their thrones, their presence oppressive and commanding. Each of the Seven represented a pillar of the Aetherblades¡ªstrength, strategy, magic, endurance, and willpower ,etc. The Trial Master, a tall figure with piercing amber eyes and a voice that resonated like thunder, rose to address the initiates. "Welcome to Lennox, where the weak are culled and the worthy rise. This is not just a trial¡ªit is a forging. Those who survive will earn the right to call themselves Aetherblades. Those who fail... will not leave the same as they came, if they leave at all." Shinjiro¡¯s breath caught for a moment, but he steadied himself. This was what he had prepared for. This was his chance to move forward. All the participants were gathered in the arena. The Arena was filled with crowd on two-thirds, one third of them were Aetherblades. There were 7 thrones for the ones who had earned the title of Strongest. Iris was one of them rather , the 7th strongest. The Trial Master begins speaking, ¡°The first trial will begin now but before that a criminal needs to be punished. The Royal Damian has appeared before me and told me the participant Shinjiro is a member of the group Daimyojins.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it A ripple of murmurs swept through the audience like wildfire. "Is this a joke?" one man spat, his voice laced with outrage. "How can someone like that even be allowed here?" "He¡¯s probably guilty. People like him always are," another chimed in, her tone dripping with disdain. From the upper tiers, a nobleman sneered, "The Aetherblades are meant to represent honor. Allowing a criminal into the trial is a disgrace to everything we stand for." But not all voices were hostile. "What if he¡¯s innocent?" a young woman whispered to her companion. "The trials are about strength and character. Shouldn¡¯t he be given a chance?" Her companion shrugged, doubtful. "Maybe, but people don¡¯t just get branded criminals without reason." A group of commoners near the lower seats had a different reaction. "If he¡¯s survived whatever horrors he¡¯s faced, maybe he¡¯s tougher than all those pampered nobles combined," one man said with a hint of admiration. An older spectator scoffed, "Toughness doesn¡¯t erase guilt. Mark my words, he¡¯ll crumble under the pressure." The crowd¡¯s voices grew louder, a chaotic mix of jeers, whispers, and debates. The tension was palpable, and all eyes were drawn to Shinjiro as he stood amidst the other initiates. He didn¡¯t flinch. His back was straight, his gaze steady. If the crowd¡¯s judgment bothered him, he didn¡¯t show it. But Hirako, watching from the sidelines, clenched his fists, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and worry. Above it all, the Trial Master raised a hand, silencing the crowd with a single, commanding gesture. " The 7 Masters have decided to let him participate as Mr Damian has not proved that the participant is associated with the group. The trial will decide his fate if he fails he will arrested right here and executed . Until then, remember this¡ªjudgment without proof is the mark of a coward. Let the trials begin." The crowd fell silent, but the weight of their gazes remained. Shinjiro could feel their eyes on him, heavy with scorn and doubt. Yet, as he stepped forward into the labyrinth, he felt a fire igniting in his chest. One of the participants says, ¡° What was that supposed to be? That guy doesn¡¯t looks like a criminal to me.¡± All participants wore a badge which had their names on it. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±, one participant recognized the voice. ¡°Ryuma!¡± ¡°Saber! It must be fate we met here.¡± The first one was Ryuma, he was from the country of Ojin . The second one was Saber, he was from the country of Sword . he country of sword has a name but very few people knew about it. The Trial Master speaks, ¡° It¡¯s a battle royal. If your skill is recognized by the seven masters, you will pass on. Or if you survive till the end, you will pass on. Now begin !¡± The crowd shouted and cheered with excitement . Ryuma wasted no time. The moment the horn sounded, he shot forward like a coiled spring, weaving through the throng of combatants with the fluidity of water. His first target, a burly man wielding twin axes, barely had time to react. With a swift low kick, Ryuma swept the man¡¯s legs out from under him. Before his opponent could recover, Ryuma spun and delivered a powerful elbow to his temple, knocking him unconscious. ¡°Too slow,¡± Ryuma muttered as he scanned the field. Another fighter lunged at him, this one armed with a spear. Ryuma sidestepped, catching the shaft of the spear with both hands. With a twist, he wrenched it free and jabbed the blunt end into the attacker¡¯s stomach. The man crumpled, gasping for air. The crowd roared in approval, chanting Ryuma¡¯s name. On the other side of the arena, Saber was carving a path of destruction. His claymore swung in wide arcs, its blade whistling through the air. A single swing sent three fighters sprawling, their weapons shattered and armor dented. ¡°You¡¯re all weak,¡± Saber growled, his deep voice cutting through the din. A group of four combatants attempted to flank him. Saber smirked. With a single spin, he deflected their combined assault, his claymore creating a whirlwind of force. One by one, they fell, their bodies hitting the sand with heavy thuds. Despite his raw power, Saber¡¯s movements were precise, almost surgical. He was no mere brute¡ªhe was a tactician. Amid the chaos, Shinjiro found himself struggling to keep up. He narrowly dodged a sword strike, the blade slicing the air inches from his face. His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles screaming with effort. ¡°Focus,¡± he muttered to himself, clenching his fists. He remembered Hirako¡¯s training, the countless hours spent drilling basic techniques. But the battlefield was nothing like practice. Every opponent was faster, stronger, and more skilled than he had anticipated. A hammer-wielding fighter charged at him, swinging the weapon in a deadly arc. Shinjiro managed to sidestep, but the sheer force of the swing threw him off balance. Before he could recover, another attacker closed in, a dagger aimed at his chest. Panic surged through him as he raised his arms in a desperate attempt to block. The dagger never reached him. Ryuma appeared out of nowhere, his movements a blur. He caught the attacker¡¯s wrist mid-strike, twisting it until the dagger fell to the ground. With a swift kick, he sent the man sprawling. ¡°You¡¯re sloppy,¡± Ryuma said, glancing at Shinjiro. ¡°Stay close if you want to survive.¡± Shinjiro nodded, his heart pounding. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet,¡± Ryuma replied, turning his attention back to the fight. With Ryuma leading the way, Shinjiro found himself able to stay in the fight. He watched in awe as Ryuma dismantled opponent after opponent, each move efficient and deliberate. ¡°Use your head,¡± Ryuma said over his shoulder. ¡°You don¡¯t have to win every fight¡ªjust survive.¡± Shinjiro took the advice to heart. Instead of engaging every enemy, he focused on avoiding conflict, staying in Ryuma¡¯s shadow as the chaos unfolded around them. Meanwhile, Saber continued his rampage, his claymore now stained with sand and sweat. The crowd¡¯s cheers grew louder with every swing of his blade. Ryuma stood poised as his opponent¡ªa towering fighter clad in leather armor¡ªcharged at him with a fierce roar. The man¡¯s fists were like hammers, each swing carrying enough force to crush bones. Shinjiro watched from a distance, still catching his breath, as the larger man threw a wild punch aimed directly at Ryuma¡¯s head. The crowd gasped, anticipating the strike to land, but Ryuma was already in motion. With a dancer''s grace, he sidestepped the initial swing, his movements smooth and calculated. The opponent, now frustrated, followed up with a straight punch aimed at Ryuma¡¯s chest. This time, Ryuma didn¡¯t dodge. Instead, he leaned into the attack, grabbing the man¡¯s extended arm with both hands. In a move that defied expectation, Ryuma used the man¡¯s own momentum to leap into the air. His body twisted mid-flight as he ascended, the crowd falling silent in awe. Suspended for a brief moment, Ryuma positioned his knee, aiming for the man¡¯s exposed face. The descent was as fast as it was precise. With a sickening crack, Ryuma¡¯s knee connected squarely with the bridge of the man¡¯s nose. Blood spattered across the sand as the fighter crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he even hit the arena floor. Ryuma landed lightly, his feet barely making a sound on the blood-streaked sand. He released the opponent¡¯s arm as if discarding a broken toy. The crowd roared in approval, chanting his name. Ryuma turned, his eyes scanning the field for the next challenge Amidst the chaos of the trial, Saber stood like an unmoving statue in the middle of the arena. His long, black coat fluttered lightly in the breeze, and his hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed sword. Unlike the frenzied fighters around him, Saber¡¯s calm presence was almost unnerving. Across from him, his opponent¡ªa burly, axe-wielding warrior covered in scars¡ªadvanced with a sneer. The man towered over Saber, his steps heavy enough to leave small imprints in the sand. ¡°You think you can just stand there and scare me?¡± the warrior growled. He twirled his axe, the weapon glinting in the sunlight, before charging forward. Saber didn¡¯t respond. His eyes remained half-closed, his posture completely relaxed, as if he were bored. The axe-wielder roared, lifting his weapon high and bringing it down with a thunderous swing aimed directly at Saber¡¯s head. But in that split second, the air seemed to crackle with tension. Saber¡¯s hand moved. There was no grand gesture, no wasted motion. In one fluid, lightning-fast movement, his sword was drawn. A single, shimmering arc of steel cut through the air, its path almost imperceptible to the human eye. Shing. The sound of the blade sliding back into its sheath resonated as Saber stood upright again. The axe-wielder froze mid-swing. For a moment, it seemed as though nothing had happened. Then, the man¡¯s axe split cleanly in half, clattering uselessly to the ground. A thin red line appeared across the warrior¡¯s chest. The crowd collectively gasped as blood sprayed from the wound, and the towering fighter collapsed in a heap, utterly defeated. Saber adjusted his coat, his expression unchanging. He didn¡¯t spare his opponent a second glance as he turned and walked away, already scanning for his next challenge. From the sidelines, Shinjiro¡¯s breath caught in his throat. ¡°That... that wasn¡¯t human,¡± he muttered, eyes wide. Ryuma, who had taken a position nearby after his own victory, smirked. ¡°That¡¯s Saber for you. His country isn¡¯t known for its warriors for nothing.¡± Shinjiro watched as Saber¡¯s gaze landed on another approaching fighter. The man¡¯s calm, calculating demeanor never wavered, and Shinjiro couldn¡¯t help but feel the gulf between them. Even among elites, Saber stood apart¡ªa force of nature with a blade that struck faster than the eye could follow. The Trial Master announces, ¡°Ryuma and Saber pass the first trial. They may pass on to the rest area,¡± It was no shock to the participants, Ryuma and Saber were just too skilled for the trial. Chapter 5: Forging the Myth Iris stands up from the throne planning to go somewhere. Gin (6th Master) interrupts, ¡°Where are you going?¡±. Iris replies, ¡°I have to be somewhere. Let the others know that they can select anyone.¡± Iris searches the crowd and finds Hirako in the back. ¡°Why are you not watching?¡± ¡°I cannot bear to see him after bringing him here. They will arrest and execute him if he fails the trial.¡± (cries) Hirako grabs Iris¡¯s collar , ¡°It¡¯s your fault for making him want to become an Aetherblade. It¡¯s my fault too for not being able to convince him and hide him¡± ¡°You brought him here. You asked me to save him. You decided to take care of him. If you failed it was just not meant to be. The least you can do is watch him fight. He¡¯s also fighting for you¡± (scene change) The crowd shouts and cheers as the trial progresses. Only two participants have been selected Ryuma of the Ojin country and Saber of the country of the sword. Shinjiro was there standing with his sword, scared but willing to fight. A rope lashes out at him. He barely dodges the attack, it grazed his face. The attacker was a girl who was also a younger sister of the 5th Master Reyna Ishizaki. ¡°Where are you looking at?¡± Shinjiro turns around. It was a red haired girl, around 16 years old in a battle suit. She introduces herself, ¡°I am Rose Ishizaki. What about you criminal?¡± ¡°I am not a criminal.¡± ¡°I see¡±. Rose launches another attack with the rope grabbing Shinjiro¡¯s leg and throwing him on the wall. Gin says to Reyna , ¡°It¡¯s better to select her before she harms anyone¡± Reyna replies, ¡°What do you mean by that? I teach dangerous things?¡± ¡°I did not mean that. I said she is skilled and we should select her¡± The Trial Master announces, ¡°The participant Rose has been qualified and can move on.¡± Shinjiro was sitting near the arena wall coughing blood. He said to himself, ¡°I can¡¯t do it. Help me God¡± A fight was going on between two warriors both skilled with sword. One of them had taken out 7 people and the other one had taken out 4. They both clashed their swords. A voice was heard from the crowd. ¡°Kenji! Big brother! You can do it¡± Kenji was the one who had taken out 7 people. He soon began overpowering the other guy and finally won the duel. The Trial Master announces, ¡°Participant Kenji has been qualified¡± Kenji was celebrating and Shinjiro was sitting behind him in a poor condition. A thought popped up in Shinjiro¡¯s mind , ¡°What if this is the only way.¡± Shinjiro grabs his sword and was about to attack Kenji from behind. ¡°Big brother! You did it!¡± Kenji turns around towards his little sister in the crowd. Shinjiro realised what sin he was about to commit. His mind was in some kind of trauma. Someone was running towards Kenji trying to attack him from behind. Shinjiro sees that and runs towards Kenji. Kenji thought Shinjiro was trying to attack him so he attacked Shinjiro. Shinjiro barely dodges the attack and tackles the attacker. Kenji was asked to leave the arena and move on towards the rest room. Shinjiro had grabbed the attacker and was not letting him go. The attacker pushed Shinjiro with his leg and he fell on the ground. Shinjiro stands up to fight. He realised he had lost his sword and was in denial. He prayed, ¡°I don¡¯t want to die. It was not my fault. I accepted what had happened to me and tried to have a new beginning but it looks like I failed. Please help me God. I don¡¯t want to die yet. I don¡¯t want my story to end here.¡± The participants who qualified the trial were watching from the rest area which was on the first floor. Saber asks Ryuma, ¡°Why were you helping that guy ?¡± Ryuma replies , ¡°I pitied him. He was just around my age but he looked like someone who went through a lot. He was scared. His eyes were innocent as mine. I figured he could never be a part of an evil group like Daimyojin.¡± ¡°Such a kind hearted guy¡±, says Rose. ¡°It must be easy for you since your big sister is the 5th Master¡± ¡°You are being rude now. You are not that kind hearted.¡± Kenji says, ¡°He tried to save me even though he is weaker than me.¡± Saber interrupts, ¡°Look He is fighting¡± Shinjiro was standing and looking towards his enemy with anger and fear. He was bare handed and his opponent was equipped with iron sharp knuckles on his fists. Hirako cries, ¡°Shinjirooo!!¡± The enemy dashes towards Shinjiro. Shinjiro mind was in agony. His vision blurred as he was crying and praying. The enemy throws a punch. (silence) Shinjiro¡¯s vision cleared and He looked down from above. He realised he jumped in the air instinctively by his hands on the enemies arm for support. He naturally jumped back. In the rest area, Saber stood up and said , ¡°Did you see that? Ryuma.¡± ¡°Yeah. Did he really try to?¡± ¡°To do what?¡± , says Kenji. Ryuma just smiles and everyone¡¯s attention was shifted to Shinjiro¡¯s unpredicted movements. Shinjiro standing on his feet was trying to understand why his body moved on his own. Shinjiro hears a voice in his head , ¡°Use it what I showed you¡± ¡°What are you trying to do now? Jumping like a monkey. Shinjiro had figured out why he jumped in the air. The enemy dashes again towards Shinjiro. He pulls his arm back and throws a punch towards Shinjiro. Shinjiro stood frozen, his mind a tempest of fear and doubt. Hirako¡¯s desperate cry echoed in his ears, and the crowd¡¯s roar was a dull hum in the background. The iron-clad fist hurtled toward him. In that split second, Shinjiro¡¯s body reacted on its own. His legs bent, his hands shot forward, gripping the enemy¡¯s arm for support, and with a powerful push, he vaulted into the air. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The crowd gasped. Time seemed to slow as Shinjiro soared above his opponent, his movements fluid and instinctive. His knee came crashing down like a hammer, connecting squarely with the enemy¡¯s face. CRACK! The man staggered backward, blood dripping from his nose as the crowd erupted into cheers. Shinjiro landed lightly on his feet, his chest heaving. He stared at his trembling hands, realization dawning. ¡°That move... Ryuma?¡± In the rest area, Ryuma leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°That¡¯s my knee strike,¡± he said. Kenji frowned. ¡°He¡¯s copying you?¡± ¡°Not copying,¡± Saber interjected. ¡°He¡¯s mimicking. There¡¯s a difference.¡± Ryuma¡¯s grin widened. ¡°And he¡¯s not done yet.¡± The enemy, furious and disoriented, charged again, his fists swinging wildly. Shinjiro¡¯s feet moved instinctively, his body shifting into a familiar rhythm. He sidestepped the first punch with ease, then ducked under the second, his movements smooth and precise. Drawing on the techniques he had seen Ryuma use, Shinjiro planted his foot and spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to the man¡¯s ribs. The impact sent the enemy reeling, but Shinjiro didn¡¯t stop. He stepped in, delivering a flurry of rapid punches to the man¡¯s chest, his fists snapping forward like pistons. Then, with a pivot, he unleashed a spinning back kick that sent the enemy sprawling onto the sand. The crowd roared in approval, but Shinjiro barely heard it. His mind was focused, his body moving as though guided by an unseen hand. The techniques flowed naturally, each strike more precise than the last. ¡°Look at him go!¡± Ryuma exclaimed, genuinely impressed. Kenji folded his arms, still skeptical. ¡°He¡¯s good, but he¡¯s running on borrowed skill. Can he keep it up?¡± Saber, watching intently, said nothing. Shinjiro¡¯s enemy rose to his feet, his face a mask of rage. He roared and charged once more, but Shinjiro was ready. He sidestepped the attack, his movements fluid and graceful, and countered with a high kick that struck the man¡¯s jaw. The enemy stumbled but managed to stay upright. Switching tactics, Shinjiro dropped low, sweeping the man¡¯s legs out from under him. The iron-knuckled fighter crashed to the ground with a heavy thud. Shinjiro stepped back, panting heavily. His body was screaming in protest, his legs trembling from the strain, but he refused to back down. Another enemy comes towards Shinjiro, his face bloodied but defiant. ¡°You think you¡¯re tough, kid? Let¡¯s see how you handle this!¡± He charged , Shinjiro hesitated. His movements, which had been so fluid moments ago, began to falter. The exhaustion was catching up to him, and his body felt heavy. In the rest area, Saber finally spoke. ¡°He¡¯s reaching his limit.¡± Kenji glanced at him. ¡°So what now? He¡¯s done for?¡± Saber¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Not yet. Let¡¯s see if he¡¯s got what it takes to adapt.¡± The enemy threw a savage punch, and Shinjiro barely managed to dodge. The blow grazed his shoulder, sending him stumbling backward. Shinjiro dashed in , lands an uppercut and dashes out and a brazillian kick to the enemies head and the enemy fell down on the ground. ¡°What is happening with me?¡± One of the participant shouted , ¡°He is a criminal. He is a part of the Daimyojin. He is cheating! Let¡¯s kill him first.¡± Half of the participants surrounded Shinjiro. He tried fighting but mostly he took damage. His legs felt like lead, his vision blurring. Desperation clawed at him as he searched for a way to turn the tide. Shinjiro¡¯s gaze flickered to the rest area, where Saber stood watching. The memory of Saber¡¯s earlier fight flashed through his mind¡ªthe calm, calculated stance, the single, decisive strike. ¡°If I can¡¯t fight head-on, I¡¯ll fight like him.¡± Shinjiro picks up a sword and get¡¯s into the fighting stance. Saber sheathes the sword and waits. The enemy attacks and Shinjiro withdraws the sword in a flash and attacks the enemy but he fails. The enemy cuts him but He manages to stay standing. From the rest area, Saber allowed himself a small smile, ¡°Did he really try to copy that move. He has potential.¡± Ryuma laughed. ¡°Potential? He just copied both of us in one fight. The kid¡¯s a natural.¡± Kenji shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Unreal. How does he do it?¡± Saber¡¯s gaze remained on Shinjiro. ¡°By surviving. And that¡¯s the first step to winning.¡± ¡°You criminal. Stop using those cheap tricks. Just die you bastard.¡± ¡°I am not a criminal¡± ¡°This was my final chance of qualifying. You ruined it. I hope you are executed with that old man also.¡±, says one of them The words ignited a fire in Shinjiro¡¯s heart. His grip on the sword tightened as the noise of the crowd faded. In the rest area, Saber leaned forward, his eyes locked on Shinjiro. ¡°Do you see it, Ryuma?¡± Saber asked. Ryuma smirked. ¡°He¡¯s finally letting it in. That anger, that fear¡ªit¡¯s turning into something else.¡± The sword felt weightless in his hand now, an extension of his will. His enemies, once sneering with arrogance, now exchanged nervous glances. Their confidence wavered as the bloodied bodies of their comrades lay strewn across the battlefield. One of them, a burly man with a spiked mace, took a step back, his bravado melting away. ¡°What... what is this guy?¡± Shinjiro didn¡¯t reply. His gaze was cold, unrelenting, like a storm about to break. He lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air in a flash. The man barely had time to raise his mace before the blade found its mark, cutting through his defenses with ruthless precision. Blood sprayed, and the man collapsed, his weapon clattering to the ground. The crowd gasped as the next opponent¡ªa lean fighter armed with daggers¡ªhesitated. His hands trembled as he circled Shinjiro, looking for an opening. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Shinjiro asked, his voice low and steady. ¡°You were all so eager to call me a criminal. To kill me. Where¡¯s that courage now?¡± The man snarled, trying to mask his fear with aggression. He darted forward, daggers glinting, aiming for Shinjiro¡¯s throat. But Shinjiro was faster. He sidestepped the attack with a fluid motion, his sword already moving. In one clean strike, the man fell to his knees, a deep gash across his chest. He collapsed face-first into the sand, his daggers slipping from his lifeless hands. The remaining fighters faltered, their faces pale. One of them, a young swordsman with trembling hands, stammered, ¡°He¡¯s a demon... He¡¯s not human!¡± Shinjiro wiped the blood from his sword, his movements slow and deliberate. ¡°If you think I¡¯m a demon, then run. I won¡¯t stop you.¡± The swordsman¡¯s legs buckled, and he stumbled backward, dropping his weapon. But another fighter shoved him forward. ¡°Coward! If we band together, we can take him down!¡± Shinjiro¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try.¡± Three of them charged at once, a chaotic flurry of blades and fists. But Shinjiro was calm, his anger now a sharpened blade of its own. The first fighter swung a club at Shinjiro¡¯s side. Shinjiro stepped inside the arc of the swing, slamming the hilt of his sword into the man¡¯s ribs. The fighter let out a pained gasp as Shinjiro¡¯s blade flashed upward, leaving him crumpled on the ground. The second enemy lunged from behind, aiming a dagger at Shinjiro¡¯s back. Without turning, Shinjiro twisted his sword in a backward slash, the steel slicing through flesh. A scream echoed before the man dropped. The last fighter, a hulking brute with iron gauntlets, hesitated mid-charge, his courage evaporating as Shinjiro turned to face him. ¡°You¡¯re afraid,¡± Shinjiro said, taking a step forward. ¡°Good. You should be.¡± The brute roared, trying to shake off his fear. He swung both fists in a wild frenzy, but Shinjiro danced around him, each step precise. With a single, devastating slash, Shinjiro cut across the brute¡¯s chest. The man fell to his knees, his gauntlets hitting the sand with a dull thud before he collapsed. Shinjiro, still catching his breath, looked at his trembling hands and whispered to himself, ¡°What... what am I becoming?¡± The voice in his head answered, ¡°Something more.¡± The last enemy charged, screaming in rage. Shinjiro lowered his stance, the sword resting in its sheath. His fingers brushed the hilt, his body coiled like a spring. The enemy¡¯s fist shot forward. In a blur of motion, Shinjiro unsheathed the sword and struck. The blade flashed like lightning, slicing through the air with deadly precision. The enemy crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest as blood sprayed across the sand. The crowd gasped in unison, the sheer speed of the move leaving them stunned. Saber smiled faintly. ¡°He¡¯s doing it.¡± Kenji shook his head in disbelief. ¡°How is he pulling off your technique? He¡¯s never trained with a sword before!¡± Ryuma laughed. ¡° He¡¯s not copying. He¡¯s adapting. Turning what he¡¯s seen into his own.¡± The remaining enemies hesitated, their confidence wavering. Shinjiro¡¯s movements were sharper now, his strikes more precise. Each swing of the sword cut through their defenses, leaving them disarmed and defeated. Their fear was palpable, their once-taunting voices reduced to silence. Shinjiro¡¯s eyes burned with determination as he stepped forward. ¡°If you think I¡¯ll stop, you¡¯re wrong.¡± One by one, the enemies fell, their attempts to overpower him futile. Shinjiro¡¯s sword was an extension of himself, each movement fluid and purposeful. The last opponent, trembling with fear, bloodied with the last attack , clenched his fists. ¡°You think you¡¯re some kind of hero? You¡¯re nothing but an evil criminal!¡± Shinjiro didn¡¯t respond. He stood still, the sword sheathed once more, his gaze unflinching. The opponent¡¯s anger boiled over, and he lunged with a desperate scream. Shinjiro closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the surge of energy coursing through him. His mind was clear, his purpose unwavering. In an instant, he drew the sword. The blade flashed once, slicing through the air with a deafening whoosh. The enemy froze mid-attack, his eyes wide with shock. A thin red line appeared across his chest before he collapsed to the ground. Shinjiro stood motionless, his sword steady in his hand. The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices a thunderous roar. As the adrenaline faded, Shinjiro¡¯s legs gave out beneath him. He fell to his knees, the sword slipping from his grasp. In the rest area, Saber watched in silence, his expression unreadable. The arena quieted as medics rushed to tend to the fallen. Shinjiro, still kneeling, whispered to himself, ¡°I¡¯m not a criminal. I¡¯m... more than this.¡± From the shadows, a voice echoed in his mind. ¡°This is just the beginning.¡± Chapter 6: Crossroads of Destiny The cave loomed before them, its entrance jagged like the mouth of some sleeping beast. The air was damp, carrying the scent of wet stone and something faintly rotten. Water dripped from the ceiling, the sound echoing through the tunnel, making it feel even deeper than it was. The ground was uneven, slick with moss and patches of loose rock. Shun seemed to be in a deep thought. His face was pale, it looked like his eyes were dead. He was thinking about his father. Shun had told himself it was the only way. That it had to be done. But standing in the darkness of the cave, surrounded by silence, the weight of that night pressed down on him harder than ever. His fingers curled into fists, the phantom sensation of the knife still lingering in his grip, as if his hand remembered even when he wanted to forget. He could still hear it¡ªthe ragged breathing, the struggle, the moment when his father¡¯s body jerked before finally going still. The warm, sticky feeling of blood on his hands. His own breath, sharp and uneven, as the world around him spun. He had acted on instinct. He had told himself it was to protect Fiol. But now, in the cold and quiet, he wondered¡ªwas that really the only reason? Shun and Rakk were exploring the caves rather Rakk brought him here to show something. Rakk: You are silent. Shun: I still have nightmares about that day. (Shun was talking about the day when he killed his father to save Shinjiro and his younger brother Fiol) Rakk: It¡¯s gonna be okay. Shun: Why did you come there? Rakk: The place where you lived is another dimension created by the king. They use the people who live their, sacrifice them for aethereal powers. I had come for you.The result would not have been different if I had come or not. Shun: Why did you choose me? Rakk: You are one of the candidates. That¡¯s why. Shun: Why did you bring Shinjiro then? Rakk: I told you he interfered and was lost. But I helped you find him. Shun: He¡¯s also got into a lot of trouble due to me. Rakk: He has passed the first stage trial of the Aetherblades . He will be safe with them. Shun: With who? Rakk: The Masters. Shun: I see. Rakk: (flatly) Why can¡¯t you get over it? Shun: (softly) I don¡¯t know. Rakk: (sighs)I have been telling everyone that you need time but it has been a year now. Shun: I know. Rakk: You feel like you are being forced to do something. That¡¯s why I have brought you here. Shun: For what? Rakk stepped closer, resting a hand on Shun¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Strength is what you¡¯ll need for what comes next.¡± (A loud growling, the sound reverberating through the cavern walls) Shun: What was that? ¡°Do you feel it?¡± Rakk¡¯s voice was low and steady, a sharp contrast to the chaos in Shun¡¯s mind. ¡°The fear is what makes them invincible. The Arcanor¡± Shun¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the hulking figure of a Monster, its glowing crimson eyes piercing the darkness. The creature stood still, its presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier, harder to breathe. Shun tightened his grip on his dagger, sweat forming on his brow. ¡°Why is it here?¡± Shun asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Shun¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the hulking figure of a Monster, its glowing crimson eyes piercing the darkness. The creature stood still, its presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier, harder to breathe. Rakk: Run ! Now!! Shun¡¯s breath came in ragged gasps, his feet pounding against the uneven stone floor of the ancient ruin. The dim glow of torches barely illuminated the massive, cracked walls, casting jagged shadows that stretched like grasping hands. The Arcanor¡¯s presence was suffocating¡ªits deep, guttural growls echoed from all directions, slithering into his mind like a whisper he couldn''t ignore. Arcanor: Run, little child. But you can not outrun yourself. The voice wasn¡¯t just in his ears¡ªit was in his head. A twisted, monstrous version of his own thoughts, creeping into his memories, his regrets. His past. He turned sharply, sliding against the damp stone. The Arcanor was there, just a breath behind him, its monstrous form shifting unnaturally. A blur of obsidian black, towering over him, its eyes glowing like molten embers. But it didn¡¯t strike. It didn¡¯t pounce. It just¡­ watched. Arcanor: You hesitate. Just like that night. Shun¡¯s stomach twisted. That night. The night everything changed. His vision blurred, the ruin fading. He wasn¡¯t here anymore. He was back in that small, candlelit room, his younger brother crying behind him, his father standing in the doorway, shadowed, drunk, furious. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Father: You think you can protect him? Shun: No¡­ not now. Not here. But the past had its claws in him. The scene played out again. His father¡¯s staggered steps. The smell of alcohol and sweat. The way his brother clutched his shirt, shaking. The knife. The weight of it in his hand. Father: You¡¯re weak. Shun¡¯s breath hitched. The Arcanor moved closer. He could hear it now¡ªnot just in his head, but around him, its deep voice overlapping with his father¡¯s, whispering the same words. Arcanor: You¡¯re weak. Shun clenched his fists. No. He wasn¡¯t that boy anymore. He had fought. He had won. But then why¡­ why was the weight of that night still crushing him? Father¡¯s voice: You should¡¯ve let me kill him. You were never strong enough to protect anything. The ruin darkened. The torches flickered and died. Shun was drowning in his own memories, sinking deeper, the weight of his own guilt pulling him under. He had done it. He had killed his father. But had he truly saved his brother? Or had he condemned him to a life of shadows, just like his own? The Arcanor¡¯s laughter rumbled through the ruin. Arcanor: You fear the truth. That¡¯s why you keep running. But the past never leaves, Shun. It only waits. A sudden pressure¡ªlike a clawed hand¡ªgripped his throat. His body froze. He wasn¡¯t in control anymore. The darkness wrapped around him, suffocating. He gasped, struggling, but it wasn¡¯t his body that was weak. It was his mind. His will. He could feel the Arcanor tightening its grip, dragging him deeper into himself, into his fears. A new voice cut through the chaos, sharp, unwavering. Rakk: Tch. Enough of this. Shun: No!! I had to do it!! It was the only choice! Stop lurking in my mind!! Arcanor¡¯s form twisted, its presence warping the very air around it. Its silver eyes flared, locking onto Shun like a predator claiming its prey. Without a sound, it raised one clawed hand, the shadows around it writhing like living tendrils. Then, it struck. A pulse of dark energy shot forward, invisible but suffocating. The moment it touched him, Shun froze. His breath caught in his throat. His body wouldn¡¯t move. The moment it hit him, it felt like a thread had been pulled from deep inside his skull, unraveling his thoughts, his memories¡ªhis very sense of self. The cave around him faded, swallowed by a suffocating darkness that wasn¡¯t just emptiness, but something alive, something digging into his mind like claws scraping against stone. Then, the voices came. His father¡¯s voice¡ªsharp, cruel, laced with that same hatred that had poisoned Shun¡¯s childhood. "Ungrateful wretch." Shun flinched. He wasn¡¯t in the cave anymore. He was home. His father loomed over him, the dim candlelight casting long shadows on the wooden floor. The air smelled of alcohol and iron. "You think you saved him?" Shun turned. Fiol. His little brother stood there, but his face¡ªhis face was wrong. Empty. Cold. "You didn¡¯t save me. You just made sure I¡¯d grow up with a murderer for a brother." Shun stumbled back, shaking his head. No. No, that wasn¡¯t true. His hands trembled, and when he looked down, they were covered in blood¡ªnot fresh, but dark and dried, crusted into the lines of his palms. His father¡¯s blood. His breath came in sharp gasps. His chest ached. He had already lived this once¡ªwhy was he being forced to live it again? "You hesitated," the voice taunted. "You hesitated, and even now, you wonder. Would you have done it if you had another choice?" Shun clutched his head. Stop. Stop. Stop. But the voice didn¡¯t stop. It wasn¡¯t his father anymore. It wasn¡¯t Fiol. It was something deeper, something older. A whisper curling through the cracks of his mind like smoke. "You belong to us now." Shun fell to his knees, his vision blurring, his breath shallow. No. He was stronger than this. He had to be. But the darkness pressed in, suffocating, endless¡ªpulling him into the past he had tried so hard to outrun. A rough hand grabbed Shun¡¯s collar, yanking him back into reality. He gasped, staggering forward, his legs trembling. The torches reignited as if someone had commanded them to. The weight on his chest lifted, just slightly. He looked up¡ªRakk stood before him, arms crossed, watching him like he had expected all of this to happen. Rakk: You panicked. Lost yourself. Almost let it consume you. Shun: ...I¡ª Rakk: You think you¡¯re the only one with ghosts in your head? Shun gritted his teeth. He wanted to argue. But the truth was heavy. He had let his past control him. He had almost lost himself because of it. And yet, despite everything, the Arcanor was still watching, still waiting. It had tested him. And he had failed. Arcanor: (chuckling) You will fall again. Shun took a slow breath. No. Not this time. The ground rumbled. The shadows deepened. And then¡ªa blood-red glow bathed the world. The Red Moon had risen. The Arcanor¡¯s form flickered. Its body, once looming and solid, seemed to blend into the darkness itself. Its voice lowered, shifting into something almost ancient, a whisper that sent chills down Shun¡¯s spine. Arcanor: The time is near. We will rise soon. And then¡ªit was gone. The darkness receded. The ruin fell into silence. Shun stood there, chest rising and falling, his hands clenched into fists. He could still feel the weight of its words. The cold grip of his past. But this time, he didn¡¯t let it drown him. Rakk: (smirking, walking forward) You¡¯re learning. But next time, try not to almost get yourself killed, yeah? Shun exhaled, steadying himself. He looked up at the Red Moon, its crimson glow painting the ruins in eerie light. Something was coming. He could feel it. And this time¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t run. Shun: I overcame it. Rakk: Good. (A messenger arrives there) Shun: (to himself) The past will not haunt me anymore. I will move forward. (The messanger leaves) Rakk: What were you thinking? Shun: Nothing. Rakk: I have some news for you. We will go to see your friend tomorrow. Shun: Really? Where? Rakk: The courtyard. It¡¯s a public trial for a criminal who was allowed to participate in the Aetherblade trials, (scene change) ¡°Why was he allowed to participate when you knew he was a criminal?¡± , a cold voice The Masters were present there and The cold voice was the Royal Judge, Aethus Donadus Aethus Donadus: "I will ask once, and I expect truth. Why was this boy allowed to participate in the trials?" Silence. The judge¡¯s gaze lingered on Iris first, then Gin, then Reyna, expecting an answer. Iris sighed, crossing her arms. Iris: Because he earned his place. Aethus: (scoffing) Earned? A commoner with no formal backing, no recognition, no legacy?" (He steps forward, his boots clicking against the floor.) "You insult the sanctity of these trials. Gin: (grinning slightly) Is that what this is about? Bloodlines? Nobility? I thought the trials were about strength. Aethus: (coldly) Strength without order is chaos. (His gaze sharpens.) And chaos leads to ruin. (He gestures to Shinjiro, his voice thick with judgment.) This boy¡ªthis anomaly¡ªshould not have been granted entry. Shinjiro shifts, finally meeting Aethus¡¯s gaze. His voice is steady, calm. Shinjiro: If I was unworthy, I would¡¯ve died in the first round. Aethus: (mocking tone) Oh? And yet, the only reason you live is because the others hesitated. (His eyes narrow.) Tell me, what will you do when hesitation kills you? Shinjiro: (firmly) I don¡¯t hesitate. Aethus steps closer, looming over him. Aethus: You should. Because hesitation is what separates a warrior from a mindless beast. (He turns back to the masters.) And that is exactly what you have unleashed¡ªa reckless, desperate child who fights like a cornered animal. He has no control, no discipline. (His voice lowers, dangerous.) "And you still vouch for him? Reyna: (calm but firm) We do. Aethus exhales sharply, shaking his head. Aethus: Then I have no choice. (He straightens, adjusting his robes.) "A formal trial will be held tomorrow. Shinjiro¡¯s participation will be judged under the laws of the Imperium." (His voice grows colder.) And if he is found unworthy¡­ (He glances at Shinjiro one last time.) He will be removed. Permanently. The air thickens. The torches flicker. The weight of his words settle on the room. Gin: (smirking despite the tension) Big words. But let''s see if you actually have the authority to back them up. Chapter 7 : Trial of Truths As the imperial judge Aethus left, Damian the royal messenger arrived with a news. Damian was a man without a name of his own, only a title whispered behind his back¡ªthe royals'' hound. He did not sit on a throne, nor did he wear a crown, but in many ways, he was more dangerous than those who did. Where the royals ruled from their palaces, Damian moved in the shadows, ensuring their word was law. He carried himself like a man who belonged nowhere, yet held power everywhere. His black coat, lined with silver embroidery, was a mark of his station¡ªneither noble nor servant, but something in between. His boots never left traces, his gloves never bore stains, but his hands had delivered more death than any warrior on the battlefield. His face was sharp, unreadable, as if carved from stone. His dark eyes held no fire, no passion¡ªonly cold obedience. A tool. A weapon. A dog that bit when commanded. Damian : I greet the Masters. Gin: What is the royal dog doing here? Iris: Why are you so persistent? Damian: I am just doing my job. I don¡¯t see the True Masters. Reyna: Huh? Don¡¯t you see us three? Damian: Yeah I see the bottom line of the Aetherblades. Reyna: Your tongue is too long. Should I cut it? Damian: You can¡¯t unfortunately. I am sent by the Imperial Knight himself. Gin: That¡¯s why you are talking too much. Iris: On the point, Why are you here? Damian: The Priest Patrick has returned and as the Order commands the trial will proceed with the Judicium Veritas. Gin: The truth and dare spell? Damian: The Spell of Absolute Judgment. It reveals all truths and all lies. There will be no deception, no manipulation. If you are deemed a threat...The Imperium will act accordingly. Shinjiro clenches his fists. A trial was one thing. But a spell that unraveled all truths¡ªwould they twist it against him? Would they use it to justify his execution? *** The dim torchlight flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows across the empty hall. Saber sat on the bench, his sword resting across his lap as he ran a whetstone along its edge. Ryuma stood nearby, arms folded, his brow slightly furrowed. Ryuma: This whole trial¡­ it doesn¡¯t sit right with me. Saber: It¡¯s a necessary step. If he¡¯s innocent, Judicium Veritas will prove it. Ryuma: You¡¯re putting a lot of faith in a system we don¡¯t fully understand. Saber: The system is simple. Truth or lie, nothing in between. Ryuma: That¡¯s exactly what bothers me. If it¡¯s that absolute, then what happens when the truth isn¡¯t enough? Saber: You think Shinjiro¡¯s guilty? Ryuma: No. But I know how people twist things. They don¡¯t want the truth. They want someone to blame. Saber: Then let them try. If Shinjiro stands strong, he¡¯ll walk out of this as something more than just another fighter. Why do you care so much? Ryuma sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Ryuma: He looks like an old friend and I just don¡¯t want to see him fall before he even gets a chance to rise. Saber: Then let¡¯s make sure that doesn¡¯t happen. Ryuma wasn¡¯t the type to trust people easily, and Shinjiro was no exception. A guy accused of arson and mass murder? Not exactly someone you casually spar with. The rumors had been everywhere¡ªDaimyojin¡¯s pawn, a killer, a traitor. But something about it didn¡¯t sit right with him. If Shinjiro was really some cold-blooded criminal, why would he even be here? Why would he walk into a trial he had no chance of winning? Ryuma wasn¡¯t one to speak on emotions, but his gut had never lied to him before. And right now? His gut told him that Shinjiro was no murderer. Still, instinct wasn¡¯t proof. And if the trial proved the guy guilty, then that was that. Saber, on the other hand, didn¡¯t care about rumors. He cared about results. It didn¡¯t matter what Shinjiro had done before¡ªwhat mattered was whether or not he deserved to stand beside them. And if the royals had already marked him? That meant he was weak. Weak people made excuses. Weak people begged for mercy. Weak people didn¡¯t survive. So Saber watched. Observed. Measured Shinjiro¡¯s every move. Was he just another fool caught in a game bigger than himself? Or was there something else beneath all that silence? The trial would answer everything. And if Shinjiro failed to prove himself? Then Saber wouldn¡¯t waste another thought on him. *** The study was dimly lit, a single candle casting flickering light over the vast collection of books stacked in uneven piles. Dust motes drifted in the air as Iris sat at his desk, fingers tapping against the wooden surface in thought. Across from him, Gin leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed, watching him with a knowing smirk. Iris: Fetch me the book on Judicium Veritas. The one that was banned. The butler, standing by the door, hesitated for a moment before bowing. Butler: That text was destroyed by royal decree. Iris: Then get me whatever¡¯s left. Someone always keeps a copy when something is forbidden. The butler nodded and left without another word. Gin chuckled softly, pushing himself off the shelf. Gin: You¡¯ve got a dangerous curiosity, Iris. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Iris: I don¡¯t like unknown variables. And right now, Shinjiro is the biggest one. Gin: Or maybe you just don¡¯t like the royals having the upper hand. Iris: That too. Gin¡¯s smirk widened as he pulled out a rolled parchment, tossing it onto the desk. Gin: I did some digging. You were right¡ªthe royals aren¡¯t just persistent. They¡¯re desperate. Iris unrolled the parchment, his eyes narrowing as he read. Iris: What is this? Gin: Proof that Shinjiro isn¡¯t from here. Iris looked up, his expression unreadable. Gin: He¡¯s from a place that doesn¡¯t exist. A place that¡ªif you ask anyone¡ªnever existed at all. Iris: An illusion? Gin: Not quite. More like something erased. And the most interesting part? Shinjiro escaped from there. The candle flickered, casting shadows across Iris¡¯s face. Iris: Then the trial isn¡¯t about proving his innocence. Gin: No. It¡¯s about making sure he doesn¡¯t survive it. A heavy silence filled the room. The butler returned, carrying a tattered book in gloved hands. The truth was buried in its pages¡ªif it hadn¡¯t already been rewritten. Iris ran his fingers over the old, tattered book, eyes dark with something deeper than curiosity¡ªresentment. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he looked up at Gin. Iris: The royals¡­ always playing their games, always twisting the truth to fit their narrative. Gin: You sound angrier than usual. Iris: Because I know what they are. Liars wrapped in gold and silk, pretending to be divine. They hide behind their titles, claim to rule by fate, but it¡¯s just fear. Gin: And what exactly are they afraid of? Iris: The past. The real one. Gin raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. Gin: You think this is about more than Shinjiro? Iris: I know it is. The royals erased entire histories before. What if Shinjiro is the proof of something they tried to destroy? Gin: And now he¡¯s standing in front of them, alive. Iris: Exactly. Iris opened the book, flipping through brittle pages, scanning the faded ink. His jaw tightened. Iris: Judicium Veritas¡­ why would they ban something meant to reveal the truth? Gin: Maybe because the truth would tear them apart. Iris¡¯s grip on the book tightened. Iris: I hate them, Gin. Not just for their lies, but for the things they buried beneath them. Gin: And yet here we are, playing their game. Iris: Not for long. The candlelight flickered, as if the air itself had grown heavier with his words. Gin leaned against the table, watching Iris flip through the old pages, his fingers almost trembling with restrained fury. The silence between them stretched, thick with something unsaid. Then Gin spoke, his voice quieter than before. Gin: You hate the royals because of what happened in the past, don¡¯t you? Iris¡¯s hands stilled. For a moment, he didn¡¯t respond. His breath was steady, but his knuckles whitened against the paper. Iris: ¡­I don¡¯t even want to remember it. Gin: But you do. Iris exhaled sharply, closing the book with a quiet thud. Iris: Some wounds don¡¯t heal, Gin. Some things are better left buried. Gin didn¡¯t push further. He had known Iris long enough to recognize when a door was locked, and this one had been sealed shut for years. Iris: I found it. Gin: What? Iris: The Judicium Veritas can be rigged by the one operating it. I have an idea. We have to find out if Damian met with Priest Patrick. *** At the royal quarters, Damian was meeting Patrick in his room. Patrick: Why are you here? Damian: I represent the Nobles. Patrick: Come inside. Both of them sat on the coffee table and Patrick prepared some coffee for him . Patrick: Enlighten me on your purpose here. Damian tossed a pouch of gold on the table. Patrick looked at it with greed. Patrick: What is this? Damian: A donation¡­ for the temple. I mean the trials are important and It must cost a lot. Patrick: (smirking) Generous. But money won¡¯t change the outcome of the spell. Damian: I don¡¯t need the spell to change. Just the way you present the results. Patrick: You want the illusion of fairness. Clever. Damian: The Royals want blood, but I want the right blood to be spilled. Patrick: (pocketing the gold) Then let the trial begin. *** It was a public trial. The crowd was in favor of Shinjiro as he had shown bravery and will and cleared the first trial. The Masters were present there with the Imperial Judge, Aethus , Priest Patrick and The royal messenger Damian. The 1st Master was Joao Felix , He has grey hair, He is around 40 years old but looks young. The 2nd Master Kentaro Rin , He had black hair, He was around 32. He was a swordsman. The 3rd Master was Leo Raksha , He had red hair, He was around 36 years old. He was also Iris¡¯s Mentor. The 4th Master was Zayden Alathor, He had white hair, He was around 30 years old. He was a royal. The 5th Master was Reyna Ishizaki, She had black hair. She was around 30 years old. The 6th Master was Gin Naoko, He has black hair. He was around 26 years old. The 7th Master was Iris Rose, He has black hair. He was around 26 years old. Aethus: Bring out the suspect. Two guards bring Shinjiro to the stage. Priest Patrick was there preparing the spell. Leo comes up to Shinjiro. Leo Raksha was a man carved from war itself, his presence commanding yet never boastful. His very stance¡ªshoulders squared, arms crossed, head held high¡ªradiated the authority of someone who had fought, bled, and survived more battles than he cared to count. His title among the Aetherblades was not given lightly; it was earned, through years of discipline, through victories that came at great cost. He was tall, broad-shouldered, built like a warrior honed for war. His dark auburn hair, streaked with strands of silver, was often tied back, though loose strands framed his strong, chiseled face. His amber eyes, sharp as a predator¡¯s, held a piercing intensity¡ªalways watching, always judging, as if measuring the worth of those who stood before him. Leo: I have heard from Iris. Just tell them the truth. Where are you from? Shinjiro: Kieon. Leo: I see. Just tell them the truth. Don¡¯t worry. He tried to calm Shinjiro down and it may have worked. Rakk and Shun were there in the crowd watching. Shinjiro stood alone, his wrists bound in iron restraints. Though no shackles held his feet, the air itself felt like a chain, keeping him in place. The room was grand, lined with gold-trimmed banners bearing the insignia of the royals, but beneath its beauty was something rotten. A room built not for justice¡ªbut for sentencing. The gallery was filled with nobles, warriors, and officials, their voices hushed in eager anticipation. Some whispered in excitement, others in disgust. "The murderer¡­" "They should execute him immediately." "How did he even make it to the trial?" "Daimyojin¡¯s pawn, no doubt." Shinjiro kept his face unreadable, but his heartbeat betrayed him, pounding like war drums against his ribs. Aethus finally raised a hand, silencing the murmurs. His voice was measured, absolute, without a shred of doubt. Aethus Donadus was overlooking the public trial. He was the embodiment of law, order, and absolute authority. He did not command armies, nor did he wield a blade, yet his words alone could decide the fate of men. Where the king sat on his throne, Aethus stood behind it, a man who ruled not with steel, but with doctrine, fear, and unwavering belief in the royal will. His presence was severe, his frame tall and lean, dressed in ornate black and crimson robes, embroidered with golden sigils that represented his rank as an Imperial Judge. A high collar framed his gaunt face, its sharp features carved from decades of passing judgment on those beneath him. Pale gray eyes, cold and emotionless, studied everything before him with disdain and calculation. Aethus: Shinjiro , you stand before this court accused of arson, mass murder, and affiliation with Daimyojin. His tone was calm, as if he had already delivered the verdict. Because he had. Aethus: The Judicium Veritas spell shall reveal your truth. If you are guilty, the sentence is death. The nobles nodded in approval. No one doubted the outcome. The spell had never failed before. Shinjiro said nothing. He felt the weight of Aethus'' gaze, the certainty in his expression. This wasn¡¯t a trial. It was an execution disguised as one. Across the room, Priest Patrick adjusted his ceremonial robe, stepping forward with the sacred tome in hand. But even as he prepared the spell, something in his eyes flickered¡ªhesitation. He hadn¡¯t expected Shinjiro to look so calm. Patrick raised his hand, ancient runes glowing along his wrist. Patrick: (softly, almost to himself) Poor kid¡­ Then, he spoke. Patrick: State your name. Shinjiro lifted his head. His voice was clear, unwavering. Shinjiro: My name is Shinjiro. A faint glow radiated from the tome. The spell had been cast. The truth had been revealed. The spell confirmed he was telling the truth. Aethus'' face didn¡¯t change. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp as daggers. Aethus: Where have you come from? Shinjiro hesitated for just a breath. A silence too small for most to notice¡ªbut not Patrick. Shinjiro: Alcrad. The spell glowed once more. True. Patrick felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. The hesitation had been slight¡ªbut it was there. Shinjiro was playing a game. Aethus, however, wasn¡¯t concerned. He had only one question left. He leaned back, speaking louder this time. Aethus: Are you a part of Daimyojin? Did you set the fire? The room held its breath. This was it. The moment everyone had been waiting for. Shinjiro smirked. And then, in a voice laced with mockery, arrogance, and something close to amusement, he spoke. Shinjiro: That¡¯s right. I am the one who killed them all. I am Daimyojin itself! (Leo jumps over to the stage in a rush to attack Shinjiro) (The spells shows he is telling a lie) Chapter 8: Trials Conclusion The air in the grand hall was thick with tension. A circle of ancient symbols glowed beneath Shinjiro''s feet as Patrick stood ready, the Judicium Veritas spell swirling faintly in the air. Patrick raised his hand, ancient runes glowing along his wrist. Patrick: (softly, almost to himself) Poor kid¡­ Then, he spoke. Patrick: State your name. Shinjiro lifted his head. His voice was clear, unwavering. Shinjiro: My name is Shinjiro. A faint glow radiated from the tome. The spell had been cast. The truth had been revealed. The spell confirmed he was telling the truth. Aethus'' face didn¡¯t change. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp as daggers. Aethus: Where have you come from? Shinjiro hesitated for just a breath. A silence too small for most to notice¡ªbut not Patrick. Shinjiro: Alcrad. The spell glowed once more. True. Patrick felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. The hesitation had been slight¡ªbut it was there. Shinjiro was playing a game. Aethus, however, wasn¡¯t concerned. He had only one question left. He leaned back, speaking louder this time. Aethus: Are you a part of Daimyojin? Did you set the fire? The room held its breath. This was it. The moment everyone had been waiting for. Shinjiro smirked. And then, in a voice laced with mockery, arrogance, and something close to amusement, he spoke. Shinjiro: That¡¯s right. I am the one who killed them all. I am Daimyojin itself! Gasps. Shouts. Some drew their weapons instinctively. Leo Raksha stood immediately, his muscles tensed, his hand moving toward his sword. "What?! So it was true?" "He admitted it!" "That bastard! Kill him now!" (Leo jumps over to the stage in a rush to attack Shinjiro) (The spells shows he is telling a lie) ¡°What? So it was true?¡±, someone from the crowd. In a flash, Leo leapt onto the stage, his blade drawn, ready to strike. But the spell pulsed again¡ªthis time glowing red. But then¡ª The spell pulsed. A cold, blue glow filled the chamber. The truth had been spoken. The spell confirmed it. "False." Shinjiro: It¡¯s a lie. Look at the spell. Leo: (stops) It¡¯s a lie! That means you are innocent! A silence more deafening than any scream filled the room. A noble in the gallery blinked, voice barely a whisper. "Wait¡­ does that mean¡­?" Leo¡¯s sword stopped mid-draw. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. "It¡¯s a lie," he muttered under his breath. "That means¡­" The truth settled in, slow and creeping, like a sickness infecting the room. Shinjiro was innocent. Patrick felt his stomach drop. His breath hitched. How? How did the boy know? Aethus¡¯ fingers clenched against the armrest of his chair. His jaw tightened. This wasn¡¯t possible. The trial had been staged. There should have been no escape. Yet here he stood. Untouched. Unpunished. Shinjiro had beaten them. Leo exhaled sharply, shaking his head before stepping toward Aethus. Leo: The boy has proven his innocence. I assume he is free to leave. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Aethus didn¡¯t respond. He couldn¡¯t. But the silence spoke for him. Leo placed a firm hand on Shinjiro¡¯s shoulder. His grip was strong, unreadable. Leo: (quietly) You almost got yourself killed there. Shinjiro only smirked. As the nobles slowly filed out, whispers filled the room. Shinjiro was innocent. The spell had proven it. But the royals didn¡¯t need the law to kill someone. And in the shadows of the chamber, Damian watched, his eyes cold, calculating. This wasn¡¯t over. Not even close. Aethus: The boy has proved himself not to be a criminal. Patrick? Patrick: Yes as the spell shows he is innocent. Damian was looking at Patrick with anger in his eyes. Leo: Is it okay? If I take this boy now to his quarters. Aethus: You can. Leo: Okay. Shun and Rakk left the place in a hurry. Shun¡¯s face was a mystery. What could have gone wrong? The place is empty now. The people leave one by one. All the criminal charges against Shinjiro were dropped and He was taken back to the quarters by Leo to meet Iris. ** Scene: Shinjiro¡¯s quarters The tension in the room loosened as Leo pushed open the door, guiding Shinjiro inside. The wooden floor groaned softly beneath their weight, the scent of old parchment, melted wax, and something faintly metallic lingering in the air. The dim candlelight flickered, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Iris sat near the desk, one leg lazily draped over the other, his fingers idly tracing the worn edges of a book. His expression was unreadable¡ªcool as always¡ªbut there was a sharp glint in his eyes as he studied Shinjiro. Iris: You are here. Master! Leo: I thought I would drop him here. He¡¯s a smart kid. Shinjiro: No! It was all his plan. Even telling the wrong name of my hometown to you. Leo raised an eyebrow, amused. Leo: How did you do that? Iris? Iris sighed, closing the book with a soft thud. He stretched his arms behind his head, rolling his shoulders before speaking. Iris: I spent all night with Gin reading these books on the Judicium spell and Priest Patrick. His voice was steady, but his half-lidded eyes betrayed exhaustion. Iris: I came to know, Patrick can manipulate the spell by becoming the target of the spell itself and he whispers a truth or a lie. I knew he was going to be near Shinjiro which makes it hard to know who the spell was being used on. (yawns) Leo: You look like you need sleep. Leo turned toward Shinjiro, his gaze steady, unreadable. Then, with a firm but almost reassuring grip, he placed a hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder. Leo: You also need rest. Don¡¯t worry anymore, you are one of us now. Shinjiro let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. The weight of everything¡ªthe trial, the accusations, the judgment¡ªhad been crushing him from the inside out. Hearing those words felt like something grounding him, if only for a moment. Shinjiro: You almost killed me there. Thanks. Leo: I was acting, trying to make it more real. Iris: Shut up! You are bad at lying. Leo smirked, shaking his head. Leo: That¡¯s not what I taught you, Iris, being a lie detector. His voice held a rare softness, something closer to amusement than strict authority. He turned on his heel, walking toward the door. Leo: I¡¯ll be leaving now. Take care. (Leo leaves.) For a moment, the room fell into silence. The kind of silence that settled after storms¡ªnot entirely peaceful, just¡­ quiet. Shinjiro rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Iris, who had already turned his attention back to his book. Shinjiro: Thank you, Iris. Iris: No worries. Shinjiro hesitated for a second, then let out a tired chuckle. Shinjiro: I am so tired. I am going to sleep. Without thinking, he flopped onto the bed¡ªonly for a loud groan to erupt from beneath him. Gin: What the hell!!! You broke my bones! Shinjiro jumped up, startled. The blanket rustled, revealing Gin sprawled out, his dark hair a mess, his face twisted into a glare. Iris: (laughs) You deserved that. Shinjiro: I am sorry! I didn¡¯t realize it was you. Gin groaned, rubbing his ribs. His messy hair stuck out in all directions, and he looked far too irritated to care about fixing it. Gin: It¡¯s this dumbass'' fault. Couldn¡¯t you tell him I was sleeping? Iris: I forgot. Gin: Huh?! Shinjiro chuckled, shaking his head. He looked between the two of them¡ªGin still rubbing his ribs, Iris flipping lazily through the book, looking like he hadn¡¯t slept in two days. Shinjiro: Thank you. Gin: Who are you thanking? Shinjiro: All of you. His voice was quieter this time. Shinjiro: I thought Aetherblades would be furious fighters, serious, committed men. Iris: (smirking) We are. We just don¡¯t spend all our time brooding in dark corners. Shinjiro scoffed. Shinjiro: You¡¯re literally sitting in the darkest corner of the room right now. Iris: ¡­Touch¨¦. Gin: (stretching) Listen, if you wanna be serious and committed all the time, that¡¯s fine. But it sounds exhausting. Iris: Exactly. And we¡¯re not in battle every second of the day, Shinjiro. His voice lost its usual sarcasm. Iris: It¡¯s okay, Shinjiro. Forget about what happened to you. It¡¯s a new start. Gin: Yeah, buddy. Shinjiro blinked. The words hit harder than he expected. A new start. He had never thought of it that way. Iris stood, closing his book and giving a lazy wave. Iris: Let¡¯s go, Gin. Go sleep in your room. Gin groaned but got up, still mumbling about his ribs. Shinjiro: Can you give my message to Saber and Ryuma? Just say I will talk to them tomorrow. Iris: Okay. The door shut behind them. For the first time in a while, Shinjiro was alone. He lay back, staring at the ceiling. The mattress wasn¡¯t exactly comfortable, and his body still ached from the trial, but¡­ for once, the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. Maybe, just maybe¡ªthis really was a new start. ** Shun walked ahead in silence, his eyes downcast, his steps mechanical as if he were moving forward on instinct alone. The faint glow of lanterns barely lit the cobbled streets of Lennox, their flickering light stretching long, distorted shadows against the walls. Rakk followed closely behind, hands in his coat pockets, watching him carefully. The usual lightness in his step was gone. Rakk: (lightly) Shun, are you too happy to speak? Your friend is alive and well. Shun stopped mid-step. His shoulders tensed, his head still lowered. For a moment, Rakk thought he wouldn¡¯t answer at all. Then¡ª Shun: (coldly) That wasn¡¯t Shinjiro. Rakk¡¯s steps faltered. The air between them suddenly felt heavier. Rakk: What? That can''t be. Shun slowly turned his head, his expression unreadable. The dim streetlight barely reached his face, but his eyes¡ª his eyes held something dangerous. Shun: He looked similar, but he¡¯s not. Rakk frowned, trying to process the weight of those words. Rakk: I didn¡¯t remember his face well. But¡­ he told the officers about you, your hometown. Shun: (clenching his fist) That¡¯s not my friend. The wind whispered through the alleyways, cutting through the silence like a warning. Rakk: (carefully) Are you sure? Shun: (low voice, unwavering) How can I forget his face? I remember it well. His voice didn¡¯t shake. Not even once. Rakk exhaled slowly. He had known Shun long enough to recognize this look¡ªthe sharp edge in his voice, the tension in his stance. He wasn¡¯t guessing. He knew. Rakk¡¯s expression darkened as the weight of Shun''s words sank in, thick and suffocating. Rakk: Then where is your friend, Shun? And who is that boy claiming to be Shinjiro? The question hung in the air, heavy, unanswered. The shadows of Lennox seemed to stretch further, swallowing the narrow streets as if the city itself refused to give them an answer. The one who looked like Shinjiro was Shinjiro himself but not quite. Chapter 9 : The Worlds are Connected The one who looked like Shinjiro was Shinjiro himself but not quite. 8th January 1376. It was the same day when Shun killed his father. Lennox, The Royal Capital. The city was a marvel, the people were mostly royals in the inner region. A medieval city. It looked bright but there was darkness hiding beneath it. A cult who was directly connected with the royal family used the underground tunnels. They say their purpose is to bring peace to the world. The underground tunnels were suffocating, thick with the stench of damp earth, burning incense, and something metallic¡ªblood. The flickering torches barely held back the darkness, their weak flames casting distorted shadows that twisted and crawled across the jagged stone walls. The cultists stood in a circle, their robes tattered, stained with old rituals and forgotten sins. Hands interlocked, they swayed slightly, chanting in a tongue that no ordinary man could comprehend. Their voices droned in unison, each syllable scratching against reality like an unnatural echo. In the center of their formation, a man sat bound¡ªhis wrists raw from the restraints, his mouth gagged to muffle his screams. His body trembled violently. His chest rose and fell too fast, panic overriding reason. He knew what came next. A cultist stepped forward, the leader, his hood concealing all but his lips¡ªthin, cracked, and twisted into something that was almost a smile. The chanting grew louder. The walls seemed to pulse, the very air pressing in on them. The bound man shuddered violently, his pupils dilating as an unseen force clawed at his soul. A sickening, wet sound followed. Blood seeped from his eyes. It ran down his cheeks, thin streams of red against his pale, contorted face. His body jerked once more¡ªthen went limp. The ritual had failed. Again. Cultist 1: We failed again. The leader stepped forward, crouching near the corpse. He studied the lifeless body, unbothered by the blood pooling beneath it. His fingers traced the man''s forehead, feeling the remnants of energy that had come and gone too quickly. A loud crack echoed through the tunnel, cutting through the murmured disappointment. Something¡ªsomeone¡ªfell from thin air, landing with a sickening thud. The cultists recoiled, their voices falling into hushed uncertainty. Cultist 2: Transportation spell? One of them gasped, eyes widening in recognition. Shun!! Before the boy could react, a cultist moved faster than thought, striking him across the temple. Darkness swallowed him whole. The leader approached the unconscious figure, his presence cold and calculated. Cultist 1: What should we do about this, Cult Leader? He stared at the boy, his mind already moving three steps ahead. The ritual had failed¡ªbut something else had been delivered to them. Something that shouldn¡¯t have been here. Cult Leader: This is a gift from God. Tie him up. Shinjiro was dragged into the center of the circle, his wrists bound tightly with rough rope. The cultists chanted once more, the dim glow of their spell casting eerie patterns across the damp floor. Shinjiro stirred. His head pounded. The world felt wrong. The air was thick, almost suffocating, pressing down on his chest. He could hear the muffled voices, the whispers threading through his mind like a thousand creeping vines. He opened his eyes, vision swimming in and out of focus. A brilliant light flared above him¡ªthen collapsed. Darkness swallowed everything. His breath hitched. Cultist 2: His face changed! A ripple of unease passed through the group. The leader frowned, stepping closer. Cult Leader: That does not happen. A cold dread settled over the cultists as they studied the unconscious boy. It wasn¡¯t just the ritual that had gone wrong. Something ancient had stirred. The soul is transferred without the body, but for the face to change¡ªthis was unheard of. The cult had spent years attempting to pull the souls of the dead from another world, but every time, only remnants of consciousness came through. One of the older cultists stepped forward, voice trembling. Old Cultist: I remember the last time it happened¡­ It was V¡­l¡­ His breath hitched. He staggered back, his face draining of all color. Old Cultist: Vulcan! His body collapsed, shaking. The room erupted into panic. Cultist 2: Another like him?! Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The leader did not flinch. If the others were frightened, then good. Fear meant obedience. Cult Leader: No. I have prepared something in case this happens. Cultist 1: What? Cult Leader: Memory transfer. The murmurs grew louder. Cult Leader: The human we use for the ritual does not die. His soul merges with the otherworldly soul. Cultist 2: Like a deviant? Cult Leader: Yes. But we will seal the otherworldly soul¡¯s memory and transfer the real person¡¯s memories back. The ritual began again. It lasted eighteen hours. The cultists stood unmoving, their voices hoarse, their bodies drained. No food. No water. Only the will of their god keeping them upright. And then¡ªa mistake. Cultist 1: There is a problem. The leader, exhausted yet unwavering, barely turned his head. Cult Leader: What? Cultist 1: The old man collapsed¡­ and so did a few others. The spell was interrupted. The memory transfer is complete, but the seal is weak. A pause. Cult Leader: Meaning? Cultist 1: The otherworldly soul¡¯s memory will return. The seal will break. A heavy silence. Then¡ªa sigh. Cult Leader: We can¡¯t have that. Looks like we failed again. Cultist 1: What should we do then? Cult Leader: Kill this human. Shinjiro lay still. Unmoving. Breathing, but barely. A cultist stepped forward, blade in hand, gripping the hilt with silent conviction. Shinjiro¡¯s eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was a blade aimed straight for his heart. Shinjiro: Where¡­ am I? Cultist 1: Hell. Die! The cultist drove the sword downward¡ª A blinding light flared. The cultists cried out, shielding their eyes. The tunnel shook, the torches flickering wildly as if caught in a storm. Cult Leader: What¡¯s happening?! I can¡¯t see! The glow faded. Silence. Cult Leader: Where is he? Cultist 1: He¡¯s¡­ gone. But I stabbed him. The leader¡¯s lips curled downward. Cult Leader: Did you pierce his heart? Cultist 1: I missed¡­ The leader turned, his gaze falling on a nearby cultist. Cult Leader: Your name? Cultist 1: N-Nathan. Cult Leader: Have you ever killed anyone, Nathan? Cultist 1: N-no. The leader¡¯s expression did not change. Cult Leader: Glutton. Kill Nathan. Nathan barely had time to beg before the towering mass of a man stepped forward. Glutton was a monster of flesh and steel, standing seven feet tall, his body rippling with unnatural muscle. Nathan screamed. His pleas were drowned by the sickening crunch of bone. Blood splattered against the stone floor. Glutton: Where are you going? Eric, the cult leader, turned toward the tunnel¡¯s exit. Cult Leader: To the royals. We need to find the boy.
Shinjiro was found on the outskirts of Lennox, unconscious but alive. He could not be legally executed without proof of his crimes. Hirako found him. Helped him. Brought him to the Aetherblades. It was Shinjiro¡¯s body. His memories. But the person inside him was different. The only one who could tell? Shun. And he did. Now back to the present after Shinjiro¡¯s trial. The trial was over, but something far worse had just begun. Scene: Priest Patrick¡¯s house. The house stood in near darkness, the faint glow of candlelight barely pushing against the shadows. The air inside was thick¡ªnot just with the scent of old parchment and incense, but with fear itself. Patrick¡¯s hands shook as he closed the door behind him, the wooden latch clicking into place. His breaths came fast, shallow. He was running out of time. The trial had failed. The boy had survived. And now, Patrick knew exactly what came next. His legs felt weak beneath him, but he forced himself forward, mind racing. I have to leave. Now. Tonight. But he was not alone. A slow clap echoed from the corner of the room, the sound unnervingly calm. Patrick froze, every muscle in his body locking into place. He didn¡¯t need to turn around to know who was sitting there. Damian: I was waiting for you. Patrick turned, his heartbeat slamming against his ribs. Damian sat comfortably in the old wooden chair, his dark cloak draped over one shoulder, a gloved hand resting against his temple. He looked at ease¡ªtoo at ease. Patrick swallowed hard. Patrick: How did you come inside? Damian: (leans forward slightly) How did you fail? Patrick took a step back. There was no point in lying. He had seen the look in Damian¡¯s eyes before¡ªthe kind of look a man gave right before he decided you no longer needed to exist. Patrick: The boy knew how my spell worked. That¡¯s the only explanation. Damian exhaled slowly, shaking his head. Damian: You have brought great shame upon me. Patrick¡¯s throat tightened. Patrick: I am sorry. Damian¡¯s fingers twitched. The wooden cup in his hand shattered, pieces of ceramic scattering across the floor. His voice was even, but the rage beneath it was unmistakable. Damian: How could you be outsmarted by a child? Patrick flinched but kept his composure. Patrick: I do not know, sir. Please! I will help you. Damian: (coldly) You can¡¯t help me anymore. You are useless. Patrick: I have a family. Damian finally looked at him directly. Damian: Where are they? Patrick¡¯s breath hitched. The room suddenly felt much smaller. Patrick: Lennox. A small, cruel smile tugged at Damian¡¯s lips. Damian: (mocking) You really are stupid. Patrick realized his mistake too late. His knees nearly buckled. Patrick: No!! Please!! (grabs Damian¡¯s foot) Patrick: Don¡¯t do anything to me! My family! Damian: (brushing him off) I won¡¯t. But he will. From the shadows, a massive figure stirred. The room¡¯s candlelight flickered as Glutton stepped forward¡ªseven feet of raw muscle, his body a grotesque monument of strength. The air seemed to grow heavier with every step he took. Patrick scrambled back, his hands gripping the floor beneath him. Patrick: Nooo! Please! Glutton moved without hesitation. His hand lashed out, wrapping around Patrick¡¯s throat like an iron vice. Patrick gasped, feet kicking uselessly against the wooden floor as he was lifted off the ground. His vision blurred, the pressure crushing his windpipe, the world tilting around him. Then, the pain came. Glutton¡¯s thick fingers dug into Patrick¡¯s eye sockets. Patrick: Arghhhhhhhhhhhh!! His screams were high-pitched, raw. Wet sounds filled the room as his eyes were ripped free. Blood gushed down his face, drenching his robe in crimson. He twisted, convulsed, arms flailing weakly. Glutton didn¡¯t stop. With a single crushing movement, Patrick¡¯s skull caved in. The sickening crack echoed through the room as bone fragments splintered beneath Glutton¡¯s grip. Patrick¡¯s body twitched once. Then fell still. Glutton let the corpse drop to the floor like discarded waste. Blood pooled beneath it, seeping between the floorboards. With eerie precision, Glutton ripped the limbs apart. His massive hands worked methodically, tearing through flesh and sinew as easily as breaking bread. The lifeless hands. The legs. The remains stuffed into a sack. A perfect cleanup. Damian watched without expression. When it was done, he stood, brushing a speck of dust from his coat. Damian: Burn the house. Glutton did not question. He drenched the walls in oil, the scent of it mixing with the coppery stench of blood. As Damian stepped outside, fire erupted behind him, swallowing the house in moments. The flames reflected in his crimson eyes. The last trace of Patrick¡ªerased from history. Chapter 10: Awakening The sky was bright, and the wind carried a fresh, cool breath through the open window. For the first time in days, Shinjiro slept without fear¡ªno longer branded a criminal, yet still a marked man in the eyes of the royals. His body lay still, wrapped in the fragile comfort of temporary peace. But peace never lasted. A knock echoed through the quiet room. The knock echoed through the quiet room, sharp against the stillness. Shinjiro stirred, his body heavy with the kind of sleep that came only after days of exhaustion. For a moment, he didn¡¯t move¡ªcaught between peace and the world that waited beyond the door. But the knock came again, firmer this time. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, blinking against the soft light streaming through the window. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. The past few days played like shadows in his mind¡ªwhispers of the trial, the lingering gazes, the whispers of those who still doubted him. Innocent in the eyes of the spell, but still a threat in the eyes of the royals. It wasn¡¯t over. Not really. Shinjiro: (groggy) Who is it? The knock came again, slower this time. Measured. Deliberate. A pause. Then, a voice¡ªcalm, controlled, but heavy with something Shinjiro couldn¡¯t place. Voice: It¡¯s me. He opens his eyes and looks around. He looks at the beautiful tree branches blooming with flowers and birds sitting on them. He gives a faint smile. Continuous knocking was heard at the door. Voice: We will be late He leaves the bed and opens the door. It was Ryuma, who met Shinjiro in the arena. He advised Shinjiro and helped him. They shared a feeling of friendship. Saber and Kenji were also there. Saber was the sword guy, he always had a katana with him. Kenji was the guy Shinjiro saved in the arena. Shinjiro: What are you guys doing here? I was about to come to meet you. Kenji: I am here to thank you for what you did. Shinjiro: I did what I thought was right. Saber: (smiling) I was just following Ryuma. Ryuma: Will you let me speak now? Saber: Yeah. Ryuma: (flatly) All the qualifiers have been summoned including you. Shinjiro: Where? Saber: Training grounds. It¡¯s time for our first lesson. Shinjiro: (hastily)Give me a minute. I need to get ready. I will come shortly. Saber: You heard him. Let¡¯s go Ryuma. (Ryuma and Saber leave) He held out the gift, eyes flicking away as if unsure it was enough. His fingers trembled slightly, and his voice came out quieter than usual. Kenji: I want to give you something. Here! Kenji took an old book which looked centuries old from his jacket and gave it to Shinjiro. Kenji: It¡¯s a great book for beginners. Shinjiro: What is it about? Kenji: The history of Aetherblades and a manual on using aether energy. Shinjiro: Aether energy? Kenji: You will understand it after the first lecture. My father gifted me that book when I first said to him about becoming an aetherblade. Shinjiro: Why are you giving this to me? Kenji: (softly)You saved my life. Kenji felt indebted to Shinjiro for saving him in the arena. Kenji belonged to a middle class family. His father owned a pawn shop mostly trade of rare antiques was done by him. Kenji had some spent quite a time there. He had great knowledge. Shinjiro: It¡¯s Okay. I saw your little sister. It reminded me of my little sister. Kenji: Where is she? Shinjiro: (with a heavy heart) She died in a fire with my parents. Shinjiro¡¯s family died in the fire when he was a kid. It has been haunting him ever since but after all he had gone through now. He has finally accepted it. Kenji: (faintly) I am so sorry. Shinjiro: It¡¯s okay. Shinjiro: You can go ahead. I will be there soon. Shinjiro walked through the alley trying to find his way to the training grounds. He was looking around when he saw her. It was Rose Ishizaki. She is a sharp-eyed, determined 16-year-old and the younger sister of Reyna. Though young, her presence is fierce¡ªdark hair cascading down her back, often tied loosely to keep it out of her intense, observant eyes. Her frame is slim but agile, perfect for quick movements and silent steps. Rose carries herself with a calm, guarded confidence, a reflection of the harsh training she endured under Reyna¡¯s watchful eye. While Reyna¡¯s strength is raw and commanding, Rose¡¯s lies in precision and strategy. She rarely speaks unless necessary, but when she does, her words are sharp and deliberate. Their gaze met each others. Shinjiro took a deep breath, adjusting his stance before calling out, trying not to sound as lost as he felt. Shinjiro: Uh¡­ hey. Rose, right? Rose turned, her sharp gaze settling on him. For a moment, she said nothing, just observing him, as if deciding whether to acknowledge him or not. Rose: (flatly) Yeah. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Shinjiro scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward already. Shinjiro: Do you, uh¡­ know where the training grounds are? The first lesson is starting, and I¡ª(He stopped himself, realizing he was rambling.) ¡ªI got a little turned around. Rose blinked once, then tilted her head slightly. Rose: You¡¯re lost. Shinjiro: (clearing his throat) Not lost exactly¡­ just¡ªyeah, okay, I¡¯m lost. Rose sighed, crossing her arms. Rose: It¡¯s straight ahead past the main hall, then left after the second archway. Shinjiro nodded, trying to remember the directions, but something about the way she said it made him second-guess himself. He hesitated. Shinjiro: Wait¡ªso past the main hall, then left? Or¡ª Rose: (raising an eyebrow) You really don¡¯t trust your memory, do you? Shinjiro: (grinning, embarrassed) Not when it comes to places I¡¯ve never been. Rose let out a small breath. She started walking. Rose: I was going there myself. Come on. I¡¯ll show you. Shinjiro was caught off guard but quickly followed, trying to keep his steps in sync with hers. They walked in silence for a few moments before he decided to break it. Shinjiro: So¡­ how do you feel about passing the first trial? Rose glanced at him briefly, then looked ahead again. Rose: It was expected. Shinjiro: (raising an eyebrow) Confident, huh? Rose: (shrugging) If I wasn¡¯t, I wouldn¡¯t have made it this far. Shinjiro chuckled lightly. Shinjiro: Wish I had that kind of certainty. Rose: (glancing at him again, this time with mild curiosity) You don¡¯t? Shinjiro: (grinning slightly) Not really. Half the time, I¡¯m just figuring things out as I go and Half the time I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on. Rose studied him for a moment before shaking her head slightly. Rose: That¡¯s reckless . A flicker of amusement crossed her face, but she didn¡¯t respond right away. They had reached the training grounds. Rose: Here. Shinjiro exhaled, relieved but still feeling slightly awkward. Shinjiro: Thanks, Rose. She walked off, leaving Shinjiro standing there, watching her go. He sighed to himself, then turned to face the training grounds. Time to focus. It was a small open ground inside the building. It looked like a garden more than a training ground. Something was kept there , white shiny radiating light. It looked as if it was alive. All the people who passed the first trial were there. Shinjiro arrived there and was standing with the others. There were guards surrounding them. A man in a black cloak arrives bringing two guards with him. He was old. He carried a book with him. He looks around and speaks , ¡°I am Donius Marshall. I am your first instructor.¡± Donius Marshall was a man carved from time itself. His figure stood tall but worn, the weight of years pressing into the deep lines etched across his pale, weathered face. Long, silver hair¡ªpulled back in a low tie¡ªframed his sharp features, and a neatly trimmed beard traced his strong jaw. His eyes, a piercing steel-gray, were cold and calculating, scanning the crowd with a gaze that seemed to see deeper than flesh. He wore a heavy black cloak, the fabric thick and old, embroidered with faded silver runes that hinted at ancient power. Beneath it, his armor was simple but well-maintained¡ªblack leather hardened from years of battle. Across his back was strapped a sword, its hilt worn from use. In his hands, he carried an ancient, weathered book, its leather cover cracked and scarred by time. The pages within were said to hold the first teachings of the Aetherblades, and he treated it with a reverence that bordered on obsession. His voice, when it came, was low and commanding, a tone shaped by decades of experience. Every word he spoke carried authority, as if the ground itself would split open at his command. Though old, there was no weakness in him¡ªonly a quiet, dangerous strength that made even seasoned warriors stand straighter in his presence. ¡°I see quite a lot of you this year. In case any of you is wondering about the training grounds. It has been used by our ancestors and the first aetherblades. That¡¯s why trainees are taught here first. You will be transported to the headquarters tomorrow which will take a month. Now, Let¡¯s begin.¡± Donius : (raising an eyebrow) Aetherblades are same as royal guards and normal people. They are humans so what makes them different. Someone answers , ¡°Aether energy!¡± Donius: That¡¯s correct. Aetherblades are masters of aether energy. The question is what is aether and the answer is life. All natural phenomenon are born from aether in this world. It¡¯s the tree of Araxis which generates aether. It is said to be located at a land far away from here. No one has actually seen it. To be able to use aether , you need an activation. Can you see that crystal over there? It is overflowing with aether energy. You need to learn it¡¯s flow. That¡¯s the first lesson. One by one come here and feel the flow inside yourself, remember it and activate it. You have 24 hours. If you activate it, you pass and if you don¡¯t you fail. Aether energy was like lifeforce which was found in the nature. It flows in the human body through the nerves. It''s source is said to be the tree of Araxis. A mythical tree believed to be hidden somewhere. It is said that the trees roots reached the deepest parts of the world. Aether crystals are formed when aether energy clusters and absorbs aether forming a crystal. Aether can be molded into all kind of forms. Since every natural phenomenon occurs fron aether. It was possible to use aether to cause natural phenomenon. ¡°What happens to those who fail?¡±, a question was raised. Donius: They are selected as warriors at headquarters but they can never become an aetherblade. One by One, the trainees walked to the crystal. They put their hand on it and felt the energy and flow . Once they remember , they try to activate aether energy in themselves. The process of Activation was meant to use the aether energy inside the human body and the surrounding itself. There were groups formed. Trainees began to stack with each other. There were only 15 of them. Shinjiro , Saber, Ryuma and Kenji formed a group of their own. Rose was the sole exception, She was the only one without a group. They stood in a circle. Ryuma: (teasingly)It was a playful act. Too obvious tho. Ryuma was talking about Shinjiro¡¯s act in the judicium veritas trial. Shinjiro: ( He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away.) Yeah.. That was kind of stupid. Saber: (steadily)Did you guys understand the instructor? Shinjiro: (puzzled) It¡¯s a lot to process. Kenji: It¡¯s not that hard. When you touch the crystal , you will understand everything. Ryuma: (stopping his speech) I think it¡¯s my turn now. Saber: (mockingly) Good Luck. Ryuma: (smiling) Too easy for me. The training grounds held a heavy silence. In the center stood the ancient crystal, jagged and towering¡ªits surface dull, like a slumbering beast waiting to be disturbed. The air around it felt heavier, pressing against the skin like mist before a storm. Ryuma stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the crystal. Something about it called to him, a whisper in the back of his mind. Each step echoed with a quiet finality, as though this moment had been carved into fate long ago. The others stood back, watching with silent curiosity and caution. Ryuma paused, hand hovering over the crystal. The surface seemed to hum beneath his palm, vibrating in rhythm with his heartbeat. For a breathless moment, he hesitated. Then¡ªhe grasped it. The crystal pulsed violently. Light exploded from its core, a blinding burst that filled the room. Ryuma gasped, his body seizing as raw Aether energy surged into him. His veins burned with power, his chest tightening as though the force might tear him apart from within. His eyes flared with pale-blue light, energy crackling along his skin like lightning. The world around him faded, all sound drowned beneath the roar of awakening power.
From a distance, Donius Marshall sat alone beneath the ancient archway, his old book resting on his knee. His eyes were half-closed, but they snapped open at the burst of energy. He watched, sharp and calculating, as Ryuma staggered back from the crystal. A breath escaped his lips, heavy and thoughtful. Marshall: (to himself, voice low) So¡­ it begins. He leaned forward, the weight of years pressing against his bones. His eyes didn¡¯t leave Ryuma¡ªnot for a moment. Marshall: (muttering) The crystal does not awaken for just anyone. It recognizes power¡­ or purpose. Or danger. He sighed, fingers tracing the spine of the ancient book on his lap. His gaze flickered to the group of trainees beyond, watching them with distant interest. Marshall: (softly, almost to himself) This year¡­ they are different. Too many with fire in their eyes. Too many who will shape the future... or destroy it. His gaze returned to Ryuma, still catching his breath, confusion shadowing his face. Marshall: (with a faint, knowing smirk) And you, Ryuma¡­ which will you be? Ryuma: (gasping, voice ragged) What¡­ is this? His body trembled, but he didn¡¯t let go. The energy pressed deeper, threatening to consume him, but he held firm¡ªwilling himself to endure. And then, just as quickly as it came, the light dimmed, leaving Ryuma breathless, trembling, but alive. His hand dropped to his side, his gaze distant, haunted by the force he had just tasted. Ryuma: (looks at his hand) Wow! He glanced at his fingertips releasing aether energy. Marshall: (to himself, sharper now) The crystal does not choose lightly¡­ It awakens only for those bound by fate. His voice dropped, barely a whisper beneath the wind¡¯s breath Marshall: (smirking) I prayed this would not happen this year. It¡¯s been a while someone grasped it in an instant. Chapter 11 : Shadows move in Silence It was an exceptional feat to grasp and activate aether energy in an instant. Only a few in history have been able to do that. Ryuma has now become one of the few. All the trainees were blown away by the mere thought of a genius in their generation. Ryuma: (sweating)What is this weird sensation? Donius stands up and looks Ryuma in the eye with gaze of goosebumps. Donius: You activated it in an instant..! (His words crumbling) Ryuma: (smiling) It was just like he told me. I didn¡¯t even struggle. Saber: (wide-eyed) Holy shit! Kenji: (in disbelief) Who is this guy? Shinjiro: (startled) He¡¯s really amazing. Rose was standing aside from everyone. Her face looked pale. She was in complete shock. She remembered her older sister telling her about how she took 18 hours to activate it. Ryuma did it in a minute. Ryuma smiling , walked towards them. Every trainee had their eyes on him. Ryuma: (to himself) I did it. I broke father¡¯s record. He would be proud. Ryuma was shocked too but his excitement took over him and his father training him from his childhood made sense now. Ryuma: (with a chuckle) Aren¡¯t I just amazing? Saber: I thought you will be the first to activate it but that was freaking fast. Shinjiro wanted to say something but he kept quiet. Kenji: (to himself) I am lucky to be by his side. One by One everyone touched the crystal and memorized the flow. But no one was able to activate it. Saber was the closest one to grasp it. Kenji was the same as others. Rose was struggling, it looked as if she wanted to grasp it like she needed it. Saber: (raising an eyebrow) How did you do it that fast? Are you cheating bastard? Ryuma: (smirking)Maybe you are not cut out for it. Go back to polishing swords. Saber: (pissed off) I am gonna kill you. Ryuma: I am leaving. It¡¯s time for my lunch. Kenji was meditating while Shinjiro was waiting for his turn to touch the crystal. Most of them failed to activate it in an instant. It was natural. Talents like Ryuma are extremely rare, One in a billion. The aether reacted differently to each one of the trainees. Sometimes it shines and sometimes it shows extreme force repelling the trainee. The last one was Shinjiro. Shinjiro walked towards the altar and looked at the crystal. It was beautiful, it was a transparent crystal within which aether flowed. It looked like a whole universe was within it. Shinjiro: (nervous) Here wo go. He proceeds to touch the crystal. His fingers make contact with the crystal. He feels a huge surge of energy within him. Slowly, his hand is in full contact with the crystal. His eyes went blank. Donius Marshall was watching from afar thinking what was happening. He was concluding that aether energy was too powerful for Shinjiro. Shinjiro¡¯s head was being flooded with memories. It was the other worldly soul¡¯s memory, his original memories. He opened his eyes. Nothing. A vast, endless void stretched before him¡ªnot darkness, not light, but something beyond both. A place that did not exist, yet was unmistakably real. There was no ground beneath his feet, yet he stood. No sky above, yet an unseen weight loomed over him. Time itself felt distant here, unraveling at the edges. And then, he saw it. A figure stood in the emptiness, neither near nor far, its form shifting as though reality itself struggled to contain it. At first glance, it looked human¡ªbut something was wrong. Its features flickered between familiarity and distortion, like an unfinished painting. The face was blurred, undefined, yet eerily recognizable. It was both a stranger and someone he had known his entire life. A chill ran through his spine. The void did not feel empty anymore. It was watching him. And so was the figure. Shinjiro¡¯s hands trembled, fingers twitching at his sides. Shinjiro: (with a trembling voice) Who.. are ..you?...Wh-at..are..you? The person grew in size, and replied, ¡° How dare you took over me?¡±, He grew again and transformed into a monster attacking Shinjiro. The air around him got heavier causing him unable to breath. Something was crawling on his skin, a dark fluid. The monster devoured him. Shinjiro: (shouting) Nooo!! It all went dark. A crushing silence swallowed everything. The void, the figure, the weightless nothingness¡ªit all collapsed in on itself, dragging Shinjiro down like a tide pulling him into the abyss. And then¡ª Light. Blinding, searing, unforgiving light. Reality slammed back into him like a tidal wave. His lungs burned as if he had been holding his breath for hours. Every nerve in his body screamed, his vision swimming with afterimages of the void. Then came the force. A surge of energy erupted from the crystal, a raw, untamed wave that sent him hurtling backward. The air itself seemed to crack and ripple around him. The impact tore through his chest, ripping him away from the source as if it had rejected him. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. His body crashed against the ground, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. His fingers dug into the dirt, but his arms trembled, refusing to push himself up just yet. The crystal stood untouched, its glow fading. The void was gone. But its presence still lingered inside him. Rose was concerned but she watched from afar. Ryuma, Saber, Kenji ran towards him. ¡°Shinjiro!¡± Shinjiro wasn¡¯t injured. He was lying on the ground. He breathed heavily, his heart was pounding. His body covered in sweat. Donius Marshall quickly approached them. Donius: (concerned) Are you okay? Shinjiro: (gasping for breath) Yeah. Ryuma: Why did this happen? Donius: He took too much time memorising the flow. The crystal repelled his energy. It was too strong for him. Saber: Is he okay? Donius: I see no problems. You all can continue on activating aether energy. Kenji: How do you feel? Shinjiro: It was nothing. The instructor is probably right. Shinjiro made a decision to hide what he saw and felt from everyone. He was confused and scared. Shinjiro: If I told them, what would they say? Would they believe me? ** The underground chamber was dark, with the flickering torches The air was thick¡ªdamp, heavy, carrying the scent of incense, blood, and something older. Something that had been there long before any of them. A group of robed figures stood in a tight circle around a stone altar, their whispers blending with the distant sound of dripping water. Their hoods concealed their faces, but the tension in the air made their unease clear. Cult Leader Eric: The seal is holding¡­ for now. The words hung there, unanswered. One of the cultists shifted, stepping closer to the altar. His robes were embroidered with symbols long forgotten by the world above. His voice was steady, but underneath, there was something else. Doubt. Old Cultist: If he makes contact with the Aether Crystal¡­ the seal could crack. The room fell silent. Another cultist scoffed, arms crossed beneath his cloak. Cultist 1: The seal was not completed. The boy doesn¡¯t even know what¡¯s inside him. He wouldn¡¯t¡ª Old Cultist: The Aether doesn¡¯t care if he knows. It recognizes its own. The flickering torchlight barely reached the cult leader¡¯s face, but his posture stiffened. Cult Leader Eric: The ritual failed. We knew this could happen. The soul transfer was incomplete. The other half of him still exists. He turned, his voice even, unreadable. Cult Leader Eric: If he touches the crystal, the energy inside will react. The Aether will wake it up. And if that happens¡­ He didn¡¯t need to finish. They all knew. A deep, slow breath. Cultist 2: We have to get to him first. Cultist 1: Isn¡¯t it better to kill him? Old Cultist: We can¡¯t do that. The Aetherblades are important tools for the king. Eric nodded once, sharp. Cult Leader Eric: We will. Before the seal cracks, before he remembers. We¡¯ll reinforce it. Bind him completely. The flames flickered violently. Shadows stretched across the walls, swallowing the edges of the chamber. Old Cultist: And if we can¡¯t? Silence. The weight of the question settled over them like a noose. Eric turned to the altar, placing his hand on the cold stone, his fingers pressing against the ancient carvings. Cult Leader Eric: Then we do what must be done. No one spoke. The fire dimmed. The shadows deepened. And the cultists began their preparations. A few hours later , Saber and Rose reached activation passing the first lesson. Meanwhile Shinjiro was trying to understand the manual given to him by Kenji. He was looking for a way to activate Aether energy. Shun and Ryuma left to eat something. He tried meditating but his thoughts kept piling up again and again with the same question ¡°What was that?¡± An illusion? He was not able to comprehend what he witnessed. It made him lose focus. Kenji was sitting beside with him. His eyes were closed yet they were watching something. Shinjiro looked at him closely. Kenji breathes in and out. There was a pattern to it. He would inhale for 3 seconds , hold for 4 seconds and exhale for 5 seconds. Shinjiro started copying him. He would repeat the breathing pattern again and again. He was able to focus now. But it does not make any sense for him. What was he supposed to focus on. He tried to imagine aether energy inside him. He was kept on in for an hour only to realise he fell asleep. He opened his eyes again and found himself alone in the training ground. Kenji had activated it and left to get some rest. It was not necessary for trainees to use the training grounds. The trainees had to activate aether energy within 24 hours. They could even train in their quarters. Shinjiro picked up the book again and began to read. He read about the ways to awaken aether. There were two ways. First was the simple way of trying to sense it and activate it, it was the most popular and efficient way. Second was different, it does not guarantee activation. It has only worked for a few. Trauma activates it. Shinjiro read more about it and put the book down. He closed his eyes and took a fighting stance, he imagined the guards who tortured him in prison. He tried fighting them. His expression was sharp. Slowly, his teeth gritted and he was on a fire. He was fighting them one by one . ¡°That¡¯s not how it¡¯s done.¡± A voice. His eyes snapped open, turning towards the source. She stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching him. Rose. She walked toward him, her steps light but certain. There was something sharp in her gaze, something knowing. Rose: You are doing it wrong. Shinjiro: (puzzled) What am I doing wrong? She stopped a few steps away, looking at him like she had already figured him out. Rose: That way of activating Aether. It does not work for everyone, especially not you. Shinjiro frowned, shifting slightly. Shinjiro: What do you mean? Rose: You overcame it. Whatever happened to you, you have already accepted it. Her voice had softened, just slightly. Rose: (faintly) I wish I could. She has never said this to anyone. Why did she say it now? She felt he could understand her because they share similar traumas. Shinjiro didn¡¯t speak. There was nothing to say. He had no idea what to say. The words sat at the edge of his tongue, but his mind was blank. She cleared her throat, pushing the moment aside like it hadn¡¯t happened. Rose: If you want to reach activation, try to find a strong desire within you and channel it. Her voice was steady again, back to its usual rhythm. Shinjiro: (softly) Thanks for the advice. She didn¡¯t respond. Just turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the empty field. Shinjiro watched her go, his thoughts weighing heavier than before. What did she mean? What happened to her? Shinjiro: You overcame it. I wish I could. What did she mean? He knew what it meant to lose something, to go through pain. Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe could have helped her. Now , Shinjiro was thinking about the strong desire. He sat down, folded his legs and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath first then repeated the breathing pattern he learned from Kenji. He thought of his friend Shun. He wanted to meet him. He wanted to talk to him. He knew Shun must be going through a hard time and he isn¡¯t there to help him. He thought of his future, he aspired to be like Iris, an Aetherblade. He thought of his past when a strange memory appeared. It was a small kid crying for help, his mother lied on the ground. She was stabbed and bleeding. A c¡­ passed by¡­... A current started flowing though his body. He could not open his eyes. His heart started beating fast, his body heating up. He started sweating. He was awake but he could not hear anything. He could not see anything. He could not speak. He was paralysed. The guards on duty came to check the training ground and found Shinjiro lying on the ground breathing heavily. They quickly grabbed his arms and legs and made a dash towards the infirmary. The infirmary was dimly lit, the soft glow of lanterns casting a pale, flickering light over the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of herbs, dried blood, and the faint bitterness of medicine. It was quiet¡ªtoo quiet. A lone physician, an older man with graying hair and a lined face, moved about the room, checking on the shelves stacked with rolled bandages and jars of herbs. He had seen enough injuries in his lifetime to know that the night always brought the worst of them. He didn¡¯t hear them at first. Shadows slipping through shadows. A faint creak. The old physician stiffened, turning slowly. Physician: Who¡¯s there? Silence. His breath slowing. He had been in this profession too long to ignore the feeling creeping up his spine. Then¡ªa rush of movement. A hand clamped over his mouth before he could even turn fully, dragging him back. He struggled, feet kicking against the stone floor, but the grip around his throat tightened. A low voice, cold, whispered into his ear. Cultist: You are not needed tonight. His vision blurred. Then, darkness. His body slumped, caught before it could make a sound. The cultists moved fast, dragging him behind one of the cots, out of sight. A hooded figure knelt, checking his pulse. Cultist 1: He¡¯ll live. Cultist 2: For now. The first cultist adjusted his hood, glancing toward the door. The infirmary was empty now, save for the dim glow of lanterns and the faint scent of medicinal herbs. The trap was set. Now, they waited. Shinjiro would come soon. Chapter 12: Whispers Beneath the Storm Loud footsteps echoed down the dimly lit corridor, heavy boots striking against the stone floor with urgency. The infirmary doors burst open, swinging wildly as two guards stormed in, carrying Shinjiro between them. His body hung limp, his breathing shallow, his skin unnaturally pale. The cultists inside the infirmary, dressed as humble healers, turned in surprise¡ªat least, that¡¯s how they made it seem. A flicker of something passed between them, a silent understanding masked beneath their feigned panic. They rushed forward, their robes rustling as they moved, hands already reaching for jars of dried herbs and mortar and pestle. Cultist 1: (voice trembling with forced concern) He¡¯s in bad shape. We¡¯ll do everything we can. The guards, unshaken, merely nodded, placing Shinjiro carefully onto a wooden cot. They stood still for a moment before giving each other a glance, then, without another word, turned on their heels and exited. They didn¡¯t need to speak¡ªtheir training demanded silence unless addressed by a superior. As the doors shut behind them, the air in the infirmary grew tense. One of the cultists, a man with sharp eyes and a clenched jaw, stepped closer to the unconscious Shinjiro. He examined him carefully, his fingers hovering over his chest as if feeling for something unseen. Cultist 1: (low, urgent) Look at him. The memory seal¡­ it¡¯s breaking. The second cultist¡¯s face darkened as he moved to the bedside, his fingers trailing over Shinjiro¡¯s forehead. Aether pulsed faintly beneath his skin, flickering like embers beneath dying ash. Cultist 2: (whispering) The Aether is reacting to him. Cultist 1: (gritting his teeth) We need to kill him. Cultist 2: (sharp) Are you insane? We were ordered to repair the seal, not to get rid of him. Cultist 1: (voice shaking with restrained anger) We can¡¯t afford another one like him. Cultist 2: (glancing away, uncertain) Vulcan? Cultist 1: (grimly) You know what happened last time. I won¡¯t risk it. The second cultist swallowed, a cold weight settling in his stomach. He couldn¡¯t deny the fear gnawing at his insides, but orders were orders. He steeled himself and shot the other a glare. Cultist 2: (low, firm) If we sabotage this, everything we¡¯ve worked for could fall apart. If the Aetherblades realize what we are, it won¡¯t just be us¡ªour entire network will burn. Their eyes met, a silent battle waging between duty and fear. Finally, the first cultist exhaled sharply and pulled a thin, ritualistic dagger from within his robes. He pressed the tip to his finger, slicing it just enough to let a single drop of blood fall onto Shinjiro¡¯s skin. Cultist 1: (murmuring) Fine. Let¡¯s fix the seal. They began their incantation, voices whispering in the ancient tongue. The air in the room thickened, growing colder as unseen forces stirred. Shinjiro¡¯s breathing steadied, his heartbeat slowing into a rhythmic pulse. The feverish heat in his body cooled as the seal was forcefully mended, suppressing whatever fragment of memory threatened to resurface. Then¡ªknocking. Both cultists stiffened. Rose¡¯s voice filtered through the thick wooden door, light but insistent. Rose: Excuse me? Is Shinjiro here? Cultist 2: (eyes widening, whispering) What do we do? Cultist 1: (hushed, urgent) Stall her. Distract her for a few minutes. The ritual is almost done. One of them rushed to the door, cracking it open just enough to peer outside. Rose stood there, arms crossed, her brows furrowed slightly in concern. The flickering torchlight in the hallway caught the softness of her face, but her expression was unwavering. Cultist 2: (clearing his throat) What is your purpose here? Are you sick? Rose: (blinking) No, I just came to check on my friend. Cultist 2: (nodding quickly) He¡¯s being treated right now. You¡¯ll be glad to hear that he¡¯s stable. Rose: (relieved) That¡¯s good to hear. Can I see him? Cultist 2: (shaking his head) Not at the moment. His body is adjusting to Aether energy. If you disturb the process, it could set back his recovery. Rose frowned, tilting her head slightly. Something about this didn¡¯t sit right with her. Rose: (quietly) ¡­That doesn¡¯t sound right. Cultist 2: (firmly) You wouldn¡¯t want to risk harming him, would you? Rose hesitated, biting her lip. She didn¡¯t like this. Something was off. But she had no choice but to nod, taking a slow step back. Rose: (softly) Alright. The cultist quickly shut the door before she could ask anything else. Rose lingered for a moment, staring at the door. Then she turned on her heel and strode down the corridor, her heart unsettled. She found Donius Marshall exactly where she expected him¡ªin the library. The room was silent except for the faint crackle of a candle¡¯s flame, the scent of old parchment and ink hanging in the air. The instructor sat hunched over a thick tome, flipping through its pages with the ease of someone who had spent decades among books. Rose: (softly) Instructor? Donius glanced up, his eyes settling on her as he snapped the book shut and placed it gently on the table. Donius: (flatly) What brings you here? This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Rose hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. Rose: Shinjiro passed out earlier. He¡¯s in the infirmary now. Donius: (raising an eyebrow) Yes, I heard. Rose: (firmly) Something feels wrong. Donius: (calmly) And what makes you say that? Rose: The man I spoke to¡ªhe seemed¡­ different. He wasn¡¯t the old physician I remember. Donius¡¯s fingers tapped once against the cover of his book. His expression didn¡¯t shift, but Rose noticed the slight way his shoulders tensed. Donius: (murmuring) Interesting. He stood, brushing the dust off his robes. Donius: Come with me. They walked together in silence. By the time they reached the infirmary, the cultists had finished their work. The old physician stood near a wooden counter, methodically crushing herbs, the scent of neem and cinnamon filling the air. He turned as Donius entered, his face calm, aged but kind. Physician: Ah, Donius. You arrived quicker than I expected. Rose¡¯s heart skipped a beat. This was the same voice from before¡ªbut now, without the mask. The physician continued, completely unbothered. Physician: I was about to send word for you, but it seems the young lady beat me to it. She was here earlier, asking about the boy. Rose: (slowly) ¡­Yeah. I guess I was. She frowned. Had she really imagined it? Donius: And his condition? Physician: He is fine now. His Aether has stabilized, but he needs rest. Donius sighed, rubbing his temple. Donius: The trainees are leaving with the Masters soon. Rose: (immediately) I can stay behind. Donius: (thoughtful) That may pose a problem. Physician: (nodding) From what I heard, Iris is staying behind for a while. You could entrust him with the boy and this young lady. Donius considered it for a long moment before finally giving a small nod. Donius: I will speak with him. Rose didn¡¯t say anything. But as she glanced one last time at Shinjiro. The old physician left the room with Donius. Then came the silence. No wind. No rustling leaves. No distant howls of wolves or chirping insects. The world held its breath. And then, as if nature itself could no longer contain the dread¡ªit began. A wretched cry tore through the air, a sound that sent shivers down the spines of those who heard it. A horse reared violently in the stables, its eyes wide with terror, foam dripping from its mouth as if it had been poisoned by the very air. Crows circled aimlessly before crashing into the ground, their bodies twitching, wings flapping uselessly against the dirt. A woman screamed. Then another. Then more. The streets of Lennox erupted into chaos as livestock collapsed where they stood, eyes rolling back, legs twitching in death. Dogs whimpered and crawled under carts, their tails tucked, their bodies trembling as if sensing something unseen. A merchant dropped his basket of fruit, his hands shaking as the apples rolled into the dirt, forgotten. "What¡¯s happening?!" A man clutched his chest, staggering back. "It¡¯s the blood moon!" someone cried. "Gods have cursed us!" Lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the terrified faces of the townspeople. Thunder roared so loud it felt as if the heavens themselves were splitting apart. The wind returned in a violent gust, tearing through banners and ripping rooftops from homes. Rain followed, but it was thick, heavy, and wrong¡ªfalling in slow, dense sheets as if the sky itself bled alongside the moon. Inside the infirmary, Rose turned her head toward the window, watching the madness unfold. Her breath hitched. "Something¡¯s not right," she whispered. The old physician''s hands trembled over the herbal mixture he was preparing. His usual steady demeanor was gone. Even Donius Marshall, usually unreadable, had a flicker of unease in his eyes. "This... this isn''t natural," Donius murmured, stepping toward the window. Outside, people ran for shelter. Some fell to their knees, praying to gods who would not answer. The royal guards tried to contain the panic, shouting orders, but they themselves were shaken. Then, in the distance, past the outer gates of Lennox, past the farmlands and hills¡ªsomething moved. A figure, standing still in the storm, its presence unnatural. Watching. Waiting. A cold shiver ran down Rose¡¯s spine. Whatever was happening¡ªit had only just begun. Rose sat beside the bed, arms crossed, staring at Shinjiro¡¯s unconscious face. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his expression unnervingly peaceful despite everything that had happened. The candle beside her flickered, its glow barely pushing back the shadows crawling up the infirmary walls. She exhaled through her nose, shifting in her chair. She wasn¡¯t sure why she was even here. She didn¡¯t know him¡ªnot really. They had barely spoken, exchanged only a few words since the trials began. Yet, here she was, watching over him like it meant something. Rose: (muttering) This is stupid. The rain outside hammered against the roof, the wind howling as if the world itself was screaming. Thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking the glass panes of the infirmary windows. Everything outside was chaos, but here, he just slept through it. Unaware. Detached. It pissed her off for some reason. Rose: You¡¯re lucky, you know. Sleeping through all of this. She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on her knees. The room was too quiet, save for the storm outside and the occasional crackle of the candlewick. She hated silence. It let her think too much. Her gaze dropped back to him. The way his face looked¡ªpale, drained¡ªit reminded her too much of something she didn¡¯t want to remember. Rose: (softly) I know that look. She clenched her fist in her lap, her nails digging into her palm. She¡¯d worn that same expression before. When she woke up in a bed just like this, staring at a ceiling she didn¡¯t recognize, feeling like a part of her had been ripped away. She knew what it was like¡ªto lose everything, to have no idea what the hell to do next. Rose: (quietly) It doesn¡¯t go away. She swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat down. This wasn¡¯t about her. She had no reason to be here. But¡­ Rose: (muttering) I get it. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her arm. She didn¡¯t expect him to wake up and hear her, but maybe, if he did¡ªmaybe it would mean something. Rose: I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve been through, but I know how it feels. The emptiness. The anger. Her jaw tightened. She hated talking like this. She wasn¡¯t the kind of person who spilled her feelings to a stranger, let alone someone who couldn¡¯t even respond. Rose: (clearing her throat) Anyway. Get better soon or something. She pushed herself up, brushing off her coat. She hesitated for a moment, looking at him one last time. Rose: Don¡¯t let it eat you up. The door creaked open behind her. Rose turned her head slightly, catching the silhouette of the old physician stepping inside, his robes trailing against the stone floor. The scent of herbal medicine clung to him, strong enough to overpower the lingering dampness of the storm outside. Old Physician: (softly) You¡¯re still here? Rose: (glancing back at Shinjiro) I was just leaving. The old man nodded, stepping closer to the bedside. His tired eyes swept over Shinjiro, checking his pulse with practiced ease, his fingers lightly pressing against the boy¡¯s wrist. Old Physician: His condition is stable now. The worst has passed. Rose said nothing. She already knew that. She had been watching him breathe for what felt like forever. The old physician turned to her, studying her for a moment longer than she liked. Old Physician: (calmly) You care for him? Rose: (scoffing) I don¡¯t even know him. The physician hummed in response, clearly unconvinced but wise enough not to push further. Old Physician: (quietly) Sometimes, we don¡¯t need to know someone to recognize their pain. Rose¡¯s fingers curled slightly at her sides. She hated that he was right. Rose: (flatly) Whatever. He¡¯s not my problem. She turned toward the door, pushing it open just enough to let the cold air brush against her face. Before stepping out, she cast one last look at Shinjiro, still unmoving, his face lost in a sleep that seemed almost too deep. With that, she left, the door shutting behind her, sealing the silence inside. The infirmary settled into an eerie stillness. The old physician worked quietly, crushing herbs into a fine powder, the rhythmic grinding filling the space. The dim candlelight flickered against the walls, shadows stretching unnaturally, moving in ways they shouldn¡¯t. Shinjiro¡¯s breathing remained steady, but something was off. The air inside the room thickened, like the weight of something unseen pressing down. The faint scent of herbs was drowned by something else¡ªsomething metallic, something cold. Beyond the infirmary walls, the storm raged on. The wind howled through the cracks, carrying whispers that didn¡¯t belong to the wind. In the far distance, past the mountains, beyond where human eyes could see, something stirred. Something ancient. Something waiting. Chapter 13: A killing spree The carriages stood lined up, their wheels caked in dried mud, horses restless beneath the weight of the coming journey. The sky bled red with the eclipse, the aftershock of the blood moon still staining the heavens. The storm had passed, but the air remained thick, heavy with something unspoken. Donius Marshall stood at the front, arms crossed, his gaze sweeping over the trainees as they made their final preparations. Bags were hoisted, supplies checked, blades fastened. Ryuma: (glancing toward the infirmary) What about Shinjiro? Donius: The physician recommended rest. He will follow after you¡ªhe won¡¯t be left behind. Ryuma frowned but said nothing. Saber, standing beside him, exhaled sharply, arms folded. Saber: (grumbling) And remind me again why we¡¯re taking carriages instead of a transportation spell? Donius: (glancing at him) Tradition. Saber: (muttering) Of course. It was more than that, though. Asfal, the home of the Aetherblades, was not just another town or capital. It was a land of warriors, a sprawling territory claimed and shaped by those who walked before them. Their journey on foot, through the vast grasslands and towering mountains, was a tribute to the first Aetherblades¡ªwho had once made the same journey without magic, carving their own path with nothing but sheer will. One by one, the trainees boarded the carriages, the wheels groaning as they began to move. The capital grew smaller behind them, swallowed by distance and time. And as the dust settled, only three remained behind. Shinjiro, unconscious in the infirmary. Rose, standing near the entrance, watching the carriages disappear. And Iris, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed, gaze distant. ** It was dark until a torch was seen. It was a robed figure with a dimly lit torch in his hand. He was walking through the sewers, trying to find the underground tunnel. There was sound of sewage water gushing through and rats were running trying to find food. The robed figure stops his steps and finds himself at a dead end. He says something softly, whispering , it was an ancient language. Bats came flying out of the wall and a door appeared. He pushes the door and enters. He finds himself in a grand hall with walls of burnt bricks. The only source of light was from the torches strapped to the walls. There was an altar in the middle and above a stone figure. The ceiling was painted in stories from thousand years ago. The robed figure stands with the others dressed like him. The silence broke. Cult Leader Eric: We are all gathered here for one purpose. The red moon signals the start, and we, the god¡¯s chosen people, have to carry out the task. The cultists have been preparing their whole lives for this. They have been waiting since years. Their purpose yet remained unknown. His voice carried through the cavern, steady and unwavering. The others listened, unmoving. Old Cultist: To carry it out, we need the royals. Cult Leader Eric: Truth spoken. We have asked them, and they have given us the golden order. A ripple of approval spread through the group. The Golden Order¡ªthe king¡¯s hidden hand. Rumored to be powerful enough to overshadow even the Aetherblades. In the past, the Aetherblades were untouchable, warriors that commanded fear and respect. But now? They were a shadow of what they once were, dwindling in influence. The cultists raised their hands, their voices echoing through the cavern. ¡°Hail! God of Aenia.¡± The chant reverberated against the stone, a sound both haunting and resolute. Cult Leader Eric: For you two who were given a mission. Did you fulfill it to our satisfaction? Two cultists stepped forward, heads bowed. Cultist 1: Yes. We have sealed the boy¡¯s memory. Cult Leader Eric: That¡¯s good to hear. Old Cultist: Forget the boy for now. We need to be ready. A heavy silence settled over them. The weight of what was to come pressed on their shoulders. The blood moon had signaled the beginning. There was no turning back. Cult Leader Eric: It¡¯s a tragedy. Some of us may fall, but the ones who survive will fulfill it. Our true purpose. The old cultist lowered his head, voice grim. Old Cultist: We can¡¯t avoid this. Cult Leader Eric: You shall sacrifice whatever is necessary. For a promise made to us by the God of Aenia. War is inevitable. After Eric declares the war is inevitable, a cultist in the back hesitates, looking at his trembling hands. Cultist 3: "But¡­ are we certain? Is this truly the will of Aenia?" A silence falls. The older cultists glance at each other, some nodding, others gripping their robes tighter. Cult Leader Eric: Doubt is natural. But hesitation is weakness. We are past the point of return. Cult Leader Eric: Hail! God of Aenia! Their gazes met, unwavering. The storm had begun, and soon, the world would drown in it. The new members of the cult wavered, they did not want to sacrifice their lives. For a purpose given by God? When they don¡¯t even know if God is real. It was a conflict inside them. ** The torches burned low, casting flickering shadows across the cavern walls. Warriors sat in silence, their eyes fixed on the leader standing at the center. His gaze was sharp, his presence heavy. Leader: The war is inevitable now. The cult has began to move. A murmur ran through the gathered warriors. The air was thick, the weight of what was coming pressing down on them. Leader: The signs are clear. The blood moon, the storms, the silence in the forests. You have all felt it. This world is shifting. Leader: They are coming. It will be not be like the last one. He looked at Rakk, then at Shun. Leader: You two. You will return to Shun¡¯s hometown. Rakk remained still, unreadable as always. Shun¡¯s fingers curled into fists. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes, but he did not speak. Leader: The royals are stirring, and the cultists have begun to move. They are whispering of something buried in the past. We need to know what they have found. Shun: (clenching his jaw) And if they find us first? Leader: (calmly) Then you do what you must. Rakk: (nodding) When do we leave? Leader: At dawn. Shun: (quietly) Understood. The leader turned away. The decision was made. The war had already begun, even if the world had yet to see it. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The fire crackled low, casting long shadows against the cavern walls. The others had dispersed, leaving only Shun and Rakk sitting near the embers. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Shun: You knew this was coming, didn¡¯t you? Rakk: Of course. The signs were obvious. Shun: (scoffing) And you didn¡¯t think to tell me? Rakk: Would it have changed anything? Shun exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. The thought of going back, stepping onto the same soil where everything had shattered¡ªit twisted something in his chest. Shun: It¡¯s been an year. How am I supposed to go back? Rakk: To protect your people. Shun: (shaking his head) The only thing left in that place is ghosts. The town had collapsed. It had become a center for bandits. Most people had left town and shifted to another place. Rakk: Then we¡¯ll talk to the ghosts. Shun went quiet, staring at the flames. The weight of returning sat heavy in his gut. Shun: You ever go back? Rakk: To where? Shun: Wherever you came from. Rakk: (shrugging) No point. I have done things that can¡¯t be accepted. Shun: (muttering) Thought so. The fire crackled between them, the unspoken hanging in the air. The path ahead was endless, a road that stretched toward a past Shun wasn¡¯t sure he could face. The distant sound of crickets filled the night air, but it only made the silence between them heavier. Rakk walked a few paces ahead, hands in his cloak pockets. He had given Shun his orders, but he hadn¡¯t spoken since. Shun: I am still not convinced to go back. Rakk didn¡¯t stop walking. He let the words hang in the air for a moment before responding. Rakk: You mean you don¡¯t want to. Shun: (voice quieter) I don¡¯t want to. Rakk: Then don¡¯t. Shun frowned, his footsteps slowing slightly. Shun: What? Rakk finally stopped, turning to face him. The moonlight barely illuminated his features, but his voice was steady. Rakk: You don¡¯t have to go back. You can keep running forever, pretending you don¡¯t care. Or you can do something about it. Shun¡¯s fists clenched. Shun: How am I supposed to face him? What if he hates me? Rakk: (shrugging) Maybe he will. Shun looked up, eyes flashing. Shun: Then why the hell would I go back? Rakk: Because running away doesn¡¯t erase what you did. Facing it might. Shun let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. Shun: You say that like you¡¯ve done it before. Rakk didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, he looked up at the blood-red moon hanging over them, the storm clouds finally retreating beyond the horizon. Rakk: I haven¡¯t. But that¡¯s why I know. For once, Shun didn¡¯t have a response. And for the first time since leaving, he wondered if returning home wasn¡¯t about Fiol at all. Maybe it was about himself. Rakk: You can¡¯t change who you are. But one thing I can gurrantee is that you can still choose to do what is right. Shun: I can still protect him. That¡¯s what I did before. Rakk: Yeah, You ready? Shun let out a slow breath, his fingers digging into the dirt. Shun: Ready or not¡­ we leave at dawn. ** Two men moved through the dimly lit streets, their presence unnoticed amidst the paranoia. Iris and Hirako walked side by side, their expressions grim. They had seen more than the common folk, understood more than what was whispered in the dark. Hirako: It was a miracle for him. (talking about Shinjiro) Iris: That¡¯s what you keep saying. Hirako: I am really grateful for what you did. Iris: I was just returning the favour even though I could never repay the debt I owe you. Hirako: You were a small kid and now turned into a fine young man. The streets of Lennox were quieter than usual. The air held a weight to it, something thick and suffocating. Whispers slithered through alleyways and candle-lit inns, spreading fear like a sickness. Man 1: Another body was found this morning. Man 2: That makes four in the last week. Woman: The wounds¡­ they say they were horrible. The people spoke in hushed voices, casting wary glances at the blood moon overhead. It loomed like an omen, bathing the city in its eerie crimson glow. The storms had passed, but they left behind something worse¡ªunease. Old Woman: I tell you, it¡¯s the end times. The beasts, the storms, the dead livestock¡­ now a killer walks among us? Young Priest: And the Aether¡­ something is wrong with it. The way it shifts in the air, I can feel it. Man 3: Maybe the Aetherblades will fix it. Old Woman: Hah! If they had any power left, we wouldn¡¯t be seeing this madness. The sound of footsteps interrupted their whispers. Iris and Hirako walked side by side, their expressions grim. They had seen more than the common folk, understood more than what was whispered in the dark. Hirako: (lowly) This is getting worse. Iris: (glancing up at the moon) Yeah. Hirako: The people are scared. You heard them. The Aether isn¡¯t stable. Something¡¯s coming. Iris: It¡¯s already here. Hirako stopped walking. The torches along the street crackled, their light flickering. His face, worn with years of duty, looked more tired than ever. Hirako: What do we do, Iris? Iris: (crossing his arms) What we always do. We keep going. Hirako: (shaking his head) You don¡¯t get it. This¡­ this isn¡¯t like before. The Aetherblades are weak. The royals are watching us. And now¡ªthis. The blood moon.. Iris: (firmly) Listen to me, old man. It¡¯s always the same. Fear spreads, people panic, the weak get crushed under the weight of it. But we don¡¯t. Hirako: (gritting his teeth) And if we¡¯re not strong enough this time? Iris: Then we make ourselves strong enough. Hirako looked at him, searching for something¡ªdoubt, uncertainty, hesitation. But he found none. Iris stood as he always did, unwavering, unshaken. Iris: I know you¡¯ve lost a lot. I know this weight isn¡¯t easy. But if you start breaking now, then what the hell was the point of all of it? Hirako exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. Hirako: You always know what to say, don¡¯t you? Iris: (grinning slightly) It¡¯s a gift. Hirako: (scoffing) Bastard. The two continued walking, the night pressing in around them. The city was afraid. The world was shifting. But at least, for now, they weren¡¯t facing it alone. It was the eve of dawn, yet the eclipse cast an eerie darkness over Lennox, making it impossible to tell if the night had truly passed. The cobbled streets were slick with the remnants of last night¡¯s rain, the air thick with the damp scent of old stone, rotting wood, and the distant smoke from torches barely holding back the suffocating gloom. Lanterns flickered weakly against the creeping fog that clung to the buildings like an omen, distorting shapes and making every shadow seem alive. Rose moved carefully through the streets, the soft echo of her boots against the stone the only sound apart from the occasional murmur of frightened voices. She had heard the whispers¡ªthe fearful gossip of townsfolk who spoke of a killer roaming the streets, a madman who had struck in the dead of night. No one had seen his face clearly, only the aftermath¡ªbodies left torn, lifeless eyes staring at the sky, crimson pools staining the ground. The people she questioned had little to offer¡ªmost only repeated rumors, their voices hushed as if speaking his name would summon him. But one thing was certain. The killer had been spotted on this street. She tightened her grip on the dagger strapped to her thigh, her breath steady but her body tense. Every corner she turned, every step she took deeper into the narrow, winding alleys, made her pulse quicken. The streets of Lennox, once bustling and full of life, now felt like a graveyard where the dead walked unseen. Then, she heard it¡ªa ragged breath, a low groan coming from the mouth of a darkened alley. Rose¡¯s heart hammered in her chest as she rushed toward the sound, her instincts screaming caution, yet her body moving forward regardless. She skidded to a stop just as her eyes adjusted to the dim light¡ªand there he was. A man stood hunched over, his body ragged and beaten, his breathing heavy and uneven. His tattered cloak barely clung to his shoulders, soaked in filth and blood. One of his eyes was gone, replaced by a jagged scar running down his cheek like a mark of some horrific past. His skin was pale, almost sickly, as if life had long since begun to drain from him. In his shaking hand, he clutched a knife, the blade still dripping fresh with crimson. And beneath him¡ªsprawled across the wet stone¡ªwas a woman. Her body lay still, her face turned to the side, eyes glassy with death. Her long dark hair fanned out against the cold ground, and her dress, once an elegant shade of green, was torn and stained with blood. The cut across her throat was deep, almost too precise, as if the killer had taken his time. Her fingers twitched slightly, as if she had only just taken her last breath. Rose felt her stomach tighten, a mixture of fury and something else¡ªsomething colder¡ªcurling inside her. The man exhaled, his one remaining eye locking onto her, hollow and distant. For a moment, he didn¡¯t move. He only stared. And then¡ªhe took a step forward. A thunderstorm started and it started raining. The night stretched endlessly over Lennox, drowning the city in an unnatural twilight. The air was thick¡ªheavy with the remnants of rain, the scent of damp earth mixing with something far more metallic. Rose stood at the entrance of the alley, her breath shallow, her fingers twitching near the hilt of her dagger. She was hearing whispers and the owl cries. Rose¡¯s stomach twisted, but she didn¡¯t let it show. Her grip on her dagger tightened. The man sucked in a ragged breath, his voice cracking as he stumbled forward on weak legs. The man: (crying) I¡­ I could not control it¡­ (weeping) My family was killed¡­ I had no choice¡­ His voice was raw, trembling with something deeper than fear¡ªsomething broken beyond repair. He clutched his chest as if trying to hold himself together, his breaths coming in uneven gasps. Rose: (furiously) How dare you? Her words cut through the air like a blade, sharper than the weapon he held. The man flinched as though struck, his knees giving out beneath him. He collapsed onto the wet stone, his shoulders trembling. The knife slipped from his grasp, clattering against the ground with a dull echo. The man: (he fell on his knees) Please¡­ Forgive¡­ Me¡­ Rose stared at him, her heart pounding against her ribs. His body shook with silent sobs, his hands clawing at the ground as if trying to anchor himself to something¡ªanything. The storm had passed, but the air still felt charged, thick with something unnatural, something unseen. And then¡ªhe lifted his head. His remaining eye, wet with tears, locked onto hers. The madness was still there, buried beneath layers of grief and regret. The man: (crying) I will turn myself in. Say you forgive me! (joining his hands) His voice rose to a desperate wail, his hands reaching toward her, palms open in supplication, in demand. For the first time, Rose hesitated. There was something wrong. Something in the way the air around him seemed to shift, how the dim lantern light flickered unnaturally against the slick walls. Her gut screamed at her to step back¡ªto move¡ªto run. But she didn¡¯t. Rose: (softly) I forgive you. Turn yourself in. But even as she said it, the words tasted wrong. Something pressed against her skull¡ªnot a hand, not a voice, but something worse. A presence. The air thickened, her chest tightening as if something was wrapping around her ribs. Her breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. Her instincts screamed, her body telling her to move, run, fight¡ª But she couldn''t. The alley around her blurred, the world tilting on its axis. The last thing she saw was the man¡¯s lips curling into something that wasn¡¯t a smile¡ªit was hunger. And then¡ªdarkness. Chapter 14: The past repeats Something pressed against her skull¡ªnot a hand, not a voice, but something worse. A presence. The air thickened, her chest tightening as if something was wrapping around her ribs. Her breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. Her instincts screamed, her body telling her to move, run, fight¡ª But she couldn''t. The alley around her blurred, the world tilting on its axis. The last thing she saw was the man¡¯s lips curling into something that wasn¡¯t a smile¡ªit was hunger. And then¡ªdarkness. Her mind was bursting through her memories until it stopped. ¡°Where am I?¡± The words slipped out before I could think. I looked around, my small hands trembling at my sides. A kitchen. The space was familiar, yet it felt... distant, like a fading dream I couldn¡¯t grasp. The dining table loomed above me, its polished wood gleaming under the morning light filtering through the window. My fingers barely reached the edges. I blinked. ¡°This is my house.¡± Recognition hit like a whisper from the past. This was where I grew up¡ªa home nestled in the outskirts of Vonx. The village was small, surrounded by the embrace of low mountains that shielded us from the harsher winds. The fields stretched endlessly, golden and swaying, a sea of crops that fed the people who toiled under the sun. There was no river nearby, yet life thrived. My bare feet pattered against the wooden floor as I wandered into the long hallway. My heart pounded as I caught sight of a tall mirror at the end of the corridor. I stepped closer, hesitating. The reflection staring back at me wasn¡¯t mine¡ªat least, not the one I had come to know. A child. Small, fragile. My dark hair, shorter than I remembered, barely brushing my shoulders. My crimson eyes, wide and untainted by the weight of years. I lifted my hands, watching them tremble as they reached out toward the glass. A voice. Footsteps. ¡°Rose! It¡¯s time for breakfast. What are you doing?¡± I turned sharply, eyes landing on the woman standing at the door. My breath hitched. Mother. Her warm smile was the same as I remembered. The gentle curve of her lips, the way her soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners. My legs moved before I could think, carrying me forward. I collided into her, my small arms wrapping around her waist, squeezing as if she would disappear the moment I let go. She stiffened. ¡°Did you get hurt?¡± ¡°No,¡± I choked out. She pulled back slightly, looking down at me, confused but amused. ¡°We need to go,¡± I whispered, my voice trembling. She tilted her head. ¡°Where do you want to go?¡± ¡°Far away. To Lennox.¡± I pointed toward the door, urgency clawing at my chest. She laughed lightly. ¡°You should ask your father then.¡± ¡°No!¡± My grip tightened. ¡°We need to go right now!¡± A deafening boom shook the house. Mother flinched. ¡°What was that?¡± She gently pried me off, stepping toward the window. My tiny legs scrambled after her. Outside, the world shifted. Our neighbor¡¯s house had collapsed. The roof lay in shambles, a massive rock crushing its structure. The walls crumbled like dried leaves. Dust choked the air. My mother gasped, pushing the door open, and I stumbled after her into the chaos. Father was running toward us, breathless, panic laced in his eyes. ¡°Are you okay?¡± he gasped, scanning our faces. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re fine,¡± Mother answered, though uncertainty laced her voice. I barely heard them. My gaze lifted to the sky, catching a glimpse of something unnatural. A flicker of light¡ªthen a man. Floating. His coat billowed weightlessly, as if gravity had no hold on him. Scars ran across his arms and face, remnants of battles fought long before this moment. The air around him crackled with an unseen force. Another sharp crack echoed through the village. The neighbor¡¯s house collapsed entirely, sending debris scattering like splintered bones. Survivors scrambled out, coughing, dazed but alive. Relief flooded through me, but it was fleeting. I know what happens next. Terror took root in my stomach. I turned, grabbing my father¡¯s sleeve, tugging desperately. ¡°Father! Mother! We need to leave!¡± He looked down, confusion flickering across his face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Rose?¡± The rubble shifted. Then, from within the wreckage, something moved. A man. Dust swirled around him as he emerged, his silhouette cutting through the morning haze. His clothes were torn, his body streaked with blood¡ªfresh and dark against his skin. The metallic scent filled my nose. His presence was suffocating. The floating man¡¯s expression twisted into something unreadable. ¡°Why don¡¯t you give up?¡± he asked. ¡°There¡¯s no way I will.¡± The bloodied man¡¯s voice was hoarse but unwavering. Then he turned. Our eyes met. Before I could scream, he was in front of me. His hands locked around my arms, lifting me effortlessly. I thrashed, kicked, screamed. But my strength was nothing to him. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°NO!¡± Mother¡¯s voice broke into a desperate wail. ¡°Please! Leave her alone!¡± The floating man¡ªVulcan¡ªdescended swiftly, fury burning in his gaze. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± he growled. The man holding me tightened his grip, shifting toward the village well. My stomach lurched. I know what happens next. ¡°If you come near me, I¡¯ll kill her,¡± the man sneered, dragging me closer to the edge. Mother sobbed. ¡°No, please! Let her go!¡± Father lunged. The man dropped me. The air rushed past, the world tilting as I plummeted. The dry well yawned below, its bottom obscured by shadow. Above, steel glinted. The man stabbed my father. Mother¡¯s scream shattered the world. For a moment, I thought that was it. That I was going to die in the cold embrace of the earth. But then¡ª A force. A sudden, crushing impact. Arms wrapping around me. Vulcan. He had leapt down, catching me before the fall could claim me. The moment my feet touched solid ground again, I collapsed. My knees hit the dirt. My hands pressed against the blood-soaked soil. I lifted my head. The man had ran away. My parents lay before me, lifeless. Their bodies motionless, their blood seeping into the earth. Something in me shattered. I screamed. I wailed. My small hands clawed at them, begging them to wake up. They didn¡¯t. They never would. And in that moment, in that horrible, endless moment¡ªI understood what it meant to lose everything. ** Shinjiro¡¯s breath hitched as his consciousness stirred. His body felt weighed down, his limbs stiff, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The warmth of the infirmary should have been comforting, but something felt¡­ wrong. He slowly blinked his eyes open, only to be met with a dimly lit ceiling. The wooden beams above seemed warped in the flickering candlelight. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, crawling across the walls like living things. His pulse quickened. A deep breath. Something metallic lingered in the air, mixed with the familiar scent of dried herbs and medicine. But there was another scent¡ªsomething faint, something cold. It clung to his skin like the remnants of a nightmare. Shinjiro forced himself upright, a sharp ache radiating through his body. He pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself. His vision adjusted to the dim glow of the room, and that¡¯s when he noticed it. Through the gaps of the infirmary¡¯s wooden shutters, a deep, unsettling red bled through. The moon. His body tensed instinctively. The air felt different¡ªheavy, unnatural. The soft hum of night insects was absent, the world outside eerily quiet. It wasn¡¯t just any night. The blood moon hung over the sky like an omen. His stomach twisted. A voice broke the silence. Physician: You¡¯re awake. Shinjiro turned toward the old physician, who sat on a stool near the far table, grinding something in a stone mortar. His movements were slow, deliberate, but there was something in his expression that wasn¡¯t there before¡ªconcern. Shinjiro: (groggy) What¡­ happened? Physician: You collapsed. Your body is adjusting to the aether. Shinjiro frowned, shifting his legs over the side of the bed. His muscles still ached, but his mind was waking up fast. Shinjiro: (quietly) What¡¯s going on? The old man exhaled, setting his tools aside before rubbing his temples. Physician: It¡¯s an eclipse. Shinjiro: Where is everyone else? Physician: They left for Asfal Shinjiro: They left me behind. He stood up all of a sudden. Physican: The girl¡ªRose. She was here. She waited for you to wake up, but she left a while ago. Shinjiro: (sharper now) Where? Physician: She was wandering through town. The words sat heavy between them. Shinjiro didn¡¯t like the way the physician¡¯s voice lowered at the end. Shinjiro: And? The physician finally looked at him, his deep-set eyes holding something close to worry. Physician: I don¡¯t know what she was looking for, but I have a bad feeling about tonight. The air is thick¡­ and the people, they feel it too. Shinjiro listened carefully, his fingers clenching the blanket beneath him. Physician: No one says it outright, but they know something is wrong. Animals are restless¡ªsome have dropped dead for no reason. The storms passed, but the air hasn¡¯t cleared. People whisper about a killer in the streets. And now? The old man motioned toward the shutters. The deep red glow still leaked through. Physician: The blood moon is watching. A slow chill ran down Shinjiro¡¯s spine. Physician: I would call her back, but it¡¯s not dangerous. Not yet. Still¡­ I don¡¯t like it. Shinjiro stood, ignoring the stiffness in his legs. He reached for his coat and pulled it over his shoulders. Shinjiro: (lowly) I¡¯ll go find her. Physician: (watching him carefully) Be careful, boy. Shinjiro nodded once before stepping outside. The town was not the same. A deep crimson glow bathed the streets in eerie light, casting long, distorted shadows. The cobblestones were slick with lingering rain, puddles reflecting the ominous sky above. The usual noise¡ªthe distant chatter, the merchants calling, the laughter of drunks¡ªwas replaced with murmurs. Whispers from behind shuttered windows. People felt it. The air was suffocating, pressing down on his chest with an unseen weight. His footsteps echoed a little too loudly in the silence as he made his way down the empty streets. Shinjiro¡¯s eyes darkened. His grip tightened around the edges of his coat. Something wasn¡¯t right. And he needed to find Rose. Now. Rose was trapped. It didn¡¯t feel like a dream. It felt real¡ªtoo real. She was sitting and crying in her parents blood for hours. Time was not passing. No one seemed to be coming for help. And she jumped in time. ¡°We need to go¡±, I said She tilted her head. ¡°Where do you want to go?¡± ¡°Far away. To Lennox.¡± I pointed toward the door, urgency clawing at my chest. Then I realised it was happening again. I tried to run away. ¡°Where are you going?¡±, my mother said Boom The village, the sky, the faces, the blood. It was all happening again. She stood in front of her childhood home, watching her younger self run down the hall. The same scene. The same laughter, the same warm sunlight spilling through the windows. A perfect memory¡ªuntil it wasn¡¯t. Boom. The walls trembled. No. Rose knew what came next. She knew every sound, every scream, every death. She turned, already knowing what she would see. The collapsing house. The floating man. The scent of blood. Her father¡¯s desperate voice. Her mother¡¯s trembling hands. The sky cracking open with a blinding light, and then¡ª Him. The man who took everything. His bloodstained hands, his cold, merciless eyes. His voice rang in her ears, mocking her, the same words echoing like a curse. ¡°You should¡¯ve died instead.¡± ¡°No.¡± She tried to move, but her body wouldn¡¯t listen. She was frozen, forced to relive it. Again. And again. And again. Her younger self screamed. Her father lunged. The dagger plunged into his chest. Her mother¡¯s sobs tore through the air. The world shattered around her, only to reset. Rose gasped, now standing at the well. Her small hands gripped the stone edge. The shadow loomed over her. The fall was coming. She knew it. She tried to step away, tried to turn, but¡ª Hands grabbed her. She was falling. Falling¡ª Falling¡ª ¡°No!!¡± The cycle snapped back. She was back in front of her house. Again. Rose: (panting) Stop¡­ please stop¡­ Her throat was raw. How many times had she screamed? Her vision blurred. Her hands trembled. The man who took everything from her, who killer her parents began whispering. It coiled around her, creeping into her mind, into her bones, wrapping around her heart like a serpent. It was cold¡ªcolder than death. Man: You can¡¯t stop it. Rose: No¡­ Man: You can¡¯t change it. Rose: Please¡­.. Man: You are weak. Her breath hitched. Man: They screamed for you. Cried for you. And what did you do? You fell. You lived. You ran. Rose: (clutching her head) Stop it¡­ Man: No one came for you. Not then. Not now. No one ever will. The weight of the words pressed down on her, suffocating, pulling her deeper. It seemed to never end. Rose: I tried. I tried to save them. Man: And you failed. The cycle began anew. The house. The man. The screams. Rose: No¡­ Man: Stay here. Relive it forever. This is where you belong. Then¡ª Through the chaos. Through the endless loop. A voice. Faint at first. Muffled. Distant. Shinjiro: (muffled) Rose¡­ Her breath hitched. Shinjiro: (louder now) Rose! The world flickered. Shinjiro: ROSE! Then¡ª CRACK. The sky splintered. A crack ran through the air itself, like glass breaking. The false world trembled, shaking apart at the seams. And through the fractures of her nightmare¡ªshe saw him. . Chapter 15: A battle against all odds The streets of Lennox were quieter than usual. Not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the kind that made the air feel heavier, like the city itself was holding its breath. The blood moon still loomed above, casting an eerie crimson hue over the cobblestone roads, stretching the shadows longer than they should have been. He scanned every alleyway, every corner where the darkness pooled deeper than the rest. The storm had passed, leaving behind damp air that clung to his skin, carrying with it the scent of rain and something else¡ªsomething metallic. Then he saw her. Rose stood frozen in the middle of the alley, her back to him. The faint light of a lantern barely reached her, flickering as if struggling to exist in the thickening gloom. And in front of her, a man. He was slumped against the wall, his face hidden in the shadows. Blood soaked his tattered clothes, dripping from the blade in his trembling hand. His breathing was ragged, uneven¡ªlike he was on the verge of breaking apart. Shinjiro stepped forward, his voice firm but low. Shinjiro: Rose! She didn¡¯t react. His stomach twisted. Something wasn¡¯t right. The man slowly lifted his head. Tear-streaked, hollow eyes met Shinjiro¡¯s. His lips quivered, mouthing words that barely escaped as sound. The man: I¡­ I couldn¡¯t control it¡­ My family¡­ they were killed¡­ I had no choice¡­ Rose¡¯s body was stiff, she didn¡¯t move an inch. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes were white. Shinjiro: (gritting) What have you done to her? The man: (sobbing) Will you forgive me? Shinjiro: (in a loud voice) Answer me first! The man: (sobbing) She saw me¡­ I had no choice¡­ I want to turn myself in¡­ I will fix her.. Will you forgive me? Shinjiro: I will if you fix her first. Shinjiro did not trust the man but he could not take any chances. He did not know what had happened to Rose. The man: Say it then you will forgive me. Shinjiro: I will forgive you. He spoke those words unwillingly, he did even partly believed the man. Something pressed against his skull¡ªnot a hand, not a voice, but something worse. A presence. The air thickened, his chest tightening as if something was wrapping around her ribs. The man: (laughs) Fool. The moment Shinjiro took a step forward, the world around him twisted. The cold air of the alley vanished, replaced by an unbearable weightlessness. His stomach lurched, his senses blurred, and suddenly¡ªthere was nothing. He was falling. Or maybe he wasn¡¯t. There was no ground beneath him, no sky above¡ªjust an endless expanse of void, stretching in every direction. The color was impossible to describe¡ªnot black, not white, but something deeper, something beyond comprehension. It felt as though existence itself had unraveled, leaving only this abyss behind. Silence pressed against his ears, suffocating, absolute. It wasn¡¯t the kind of silence where sound didn¡¯t exist¡ªit was worse. It was a silence where sound should exist, where he should be able to hear his own breath, his heartbeat¡ªbut there was nothing. And then, a voice. It didn¡¯t echo. It didn¡¯t come from anywhere. It was just there, slipping into his mind like it had always been a part of him. Figure: You imposter.. How does it feel to be playing my role? Shinjiro: What are you talking about? Figure: It¡¯s not your fault. I saw your memories. Y-in¡­-9$# The figure couldn¡¯t speak. It was due to the effect of the seal put on him by the cultist. Shinjiro: Rose is in danger. Who are you? Figure: Frankly speaking? Figure: (whispers) I am You. The words slipped through the void, not spoken, not heard¡ªbut felt. A whisper that coiled around Shinjiro¡¯s mind like a serpent tightening its grip. The void convulsed. A deafening boom shattered the silence. The weightless abyss twisted violently, as if something immense had stirred beneath its depths. The colorless nothingness cracked like glass, jagged fractures of blinding white splitting through the infinite dark. Shinjiro clutched his head, a searing pain driving into his skull. His breath hitched¡ªbut there was no breath, no lungs, just the unbearable sensation of something tearing at him, pulling, as though his very existence was unraveling. A thousand whispers screamed all at once. His heartbeat¡ªno, it wasn¡¯t his heartbeat anymore. It was the void¡¯s. A thunderous, echoing thump-thump pounding in rhythm with the cracks spreading across the space around him. His own voice betrayed him. Shinjiro: (gasping) No..! Figure: You can¡¯t understand anything right now. You don¡¯t have time right now. Your friend might die. Shinjiro: I¡¯ll believe you if you will help me. Figure: (chuckling) I can¡¯t help you but You will never fall for mind control because of me. Shinjiro: What do you mean? Figure: Not enough time to explain. Save her yourself. The void collapsed. A deafening shatter tore through existence. Shinjiro¡¯s eyes snapped open. The freezing night air slammed into his lungs as he stumbled forward, his body feeling like it had just been yanked from the depths of an ocean. His vision spun¡ªthen focused. Shinjiro: (his heart pounding) I saw him again! The alley. The blood. The man. The killer stood over Rose, blade trembling in his grip, his breath ragged, unhinged. His eyes widened in shock, disbelief flashing across his face. The man : (staggering back) Impossible¡­ Shinjiro didn¡¯t hesitate. He launched forward towards the man and throws a punch. The man easily dodges it and counterpunches him which connects to the jaw. Shinjiro¡¯s brain is shaken and he fell on his knees. The man: I don¡¯t know how you broke the mind control. Stand up! Shinjiro barely manages to stand up with his knees shaking. Shinjiro: (to himself) He is strong. The man: I am Genzo Junikage. What about you, human? Shinjiro: Stop talking and fight me. The man: (threatening) Choose your words wisely I might kill her. Shinjiro felt his words. He wasn¡¯t lying rather He was strong enough to say those words. Shinjiro: I am Shinjiro. The man: Shinjiro? The man flew in an instant towards Shinjiro and cuts him with a dagger. Shinjiro barely reacted saving his neck blocking with his hand. He was bleeding. Shinjiro: (gasping for breath) His knees were stable now. He looks around but he could not find the killer. The man: I did not move from where I was. Shinjiro: (to himself) How do I even fight him? The man: I feel pity for you. Shinjiro barely had time to think before Genzo moved again. A blur¡ªthen pain. A fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. His body arched, feet lifting slightly off the ground before crashing back down. His lungs burned, gasping for air, but Genzo didn¡¯t give him a chance to recover. Another hit¡ªthis time to the ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the alley. Shinjiro staggered, barely managing to raise his arms in defense. Genzo: (mocking) Is this all? Shinjiro tried to counter. He threw a punch¡ªfast, desperate. Genzo tilted his head. A miss. Shinjiro barely registered the failure before a knee crashed into his jaw. His vision blurred, his body thrown backward. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the rough stone. His arm throbbed where he had blocked earlier, the cut on his forearm bleeding freely. He groaned, forcing himself up, but Genzo was already there. A boot slammed into his chest, pinning him down. Genzo: (clicking his tongue) Pathetic. Shinjiro struggled against the weight, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His body felt sluggish¡ªhis mind slower. He had never fought someone like this. Genzo was toying with him, moving faster than his eyes could track, attacking from angles he couldn¡¯t react to. Every time he tried to strike back, he hit nothing but air. Every attempt to dodge ended with a counterattack¡ªbrutal, precise. Blood dripped from his lips as he looked up at the man looming over him. Shinjiro: (gasping) Tch... Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Genzo knelt slightly, pressing down harder. Genzo: You¡¯re still conscious? Shinjiro clenched his teeth, shifting his body despite the pain. He couldn¡¯t overpower him. He couldn¡¯t outspeed him. Then how¡ª? His thoughts shattered as Genzo grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the alley. Shinjiro¡¯s back crashed against the wall, pain exploding through his body. He crumpled to the ground, coughing. Genzo: (scoffing) Don¡¯t disappoint me now. Shinjiro¡¯s fingers clawed at the ground as he forced himself up again, his arms shaking, his vision swimming. His breath was ragged, but his eyes¡ªhis eyes didn¡¯t waver. Even if he couldn¡¯t win¡ª He had to stand. Genzo: Aren¡¯t you afraid of dying? Why not just give up? Shinjiro wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his breath still ragged. His body screamed at him to stay down, but he forced himself to his feet. His legs felt heavy, his vision swayed, but his hands curled into fists. Shinjiro: (panting) I gave up a moment ago. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve always done¡ªgive up. He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. Shinjiro: I almost died twice. Maybe I should have. Maybe I deserved to. But for the first time in my life, I felt peace. And then¡ª His eyes burned with something raw. Shinjiro: You ruined it. Genzo chuckled, rolling his shoulders, amused. Genzo: (mocking) Oh, how tragic. Poor little Shinjiro finally finds peace, only for me to snatch it away. (with conviction) You don¡¯t have a choice in this world. You are forced to choose. Shinjiro didn¡¯t answer. He wasn¡¯t thinking anymore. His feet moved before his mind could catch up. He lunged. Faster than before. He was thinking about the trials how he fought then and tried to replicate again. Shinjiro clenched his fists tighter. His mind raced, grasping at the memory of the trials. How he moved, how he fought¡ªhow he survived. He needed to replicate that. He had no other choice. His breath steadied, his knees bent slightly, and he lunged. The moment his fist swung forward, his fingers curled at the last second, gripping the air for momentum. He pushed off, aiming to launch himself into the air¡ª ¡ªbut his balance faltered. His form twisted awkwardly, his knee missing Genzo¡¯s face by inches. He landed harshly, rolling across the dirt, coughing as dust filled his lungs. Genzo stood still, watching. His lips curled into a grin. Genzo: What were you trying to do? Shinjiro: Come! Shinjiro steadied his breath. His vision was still spinning, his body aching from the relentless beating, but his mind was locked onto a single thought¡ªreplicate the trial. He remembered the move. It had worked then. It had to work now. Genzo moved first, his fist cutting through the air like a hammer. Shinjiro didn''t step back. Instead, at the last moment, he caught Genzo''s forearm with his fingers¡ªusing it as support. With all his strength, he pushed off the ground, his body twisting midair. Gravity pulled him down. Shinjiro: (gritted teeth) Now! Genzo was taken away by the surprise. His knee crashed into Genzo¡¯s face with brutal force. A sharp crack rang through the alley. Blood splattered. Genzo¡¯s head snapped back, his body staggering from the impact. Genzo stumbled back, his nose bleeding, a dark red streak running down his lips. He wiped it with the back of his hand and let out a short, sharp chuckle. Genzo: (grinning) That was shocking. His golden eyes glinted under the blood moon, a strange mix of amusement and something darker. He tilted his head, cracking his neck before locking his gaze onto Shinjiro once more. Genzo: (serious) That movement... Shinjiro tensed. His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing still unsteady. Genzo: (accusing) You are Vulcan¡¯s disciple, aren¡¯t you? Shinjiro¡¯s fingers twitched. That name¡ªVulcan¡ªit was familiar, yet foreign. A whisper in the back of his mind, like something he should remember but couldn¡¯t grasp. His head throbbed. Shinjiro: (glaring) I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. Genzo wiped his nose again, grinning wider despite the blood staining his teeth. Genzo: (mocking) You don¡¯t? He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the pain. Then, his grin twisted into something far more dangerous. Genzo: (low voice) You got me by surprise But Let me tell you who you are. Shinjiro didn¡¯t care. He refused to listen. His body screamed in pain, his muscles burned, but he forced himself forward, launching into the air. His right leg came crashing down like a battle axe. Genzo¡¯s arms shot up, blocking it with ease. Genzo: (screams) You are pathetic Shinjiro! The impact sent a ripple through the ground, dust kicking up around them. Shinjiro gritted his teeth, pushing down with all his might, but Genzo barely flinched. The difference in strength was clear. Shinjiro: (gritted teeth) Tch¡ª He flipped back, barely dodging a dagger swipe aimed straight for his gut. The fight wasn¡¯t fair. Shinjiro lunged again, a rapid barrage of punches and kicks¡ª but Genzo saw through all of them. His movements were sharp, precise. Every attack was blocked. A punch to the ribs. Shinjiro staggered. A knee to the stomach. His breath left him in a painful gasp. A spinning kick. His vision blurred. His feet skidded across the dirt. His back slammed against the cold, damp wall of the alley. His body wanted to give up. But he wouldn¡¯t. Genzo: (mocking) I know how it feels. When you try so hard but it¡¯s never enough. Shinjiro spat blood onto the ground. His arms trembled, barely holding his own weight. He could feel the sting of fresh wounds, the heat of his own blood trickling down his face. Shinjiro: I don¡¯t care about anything! You were right I was forced in this life but I can¡¯t die yet! I still have something I need to do! His legs refused to listen to him. They shook violently, barely able to keep him standing. Genzo: (smirking) You¡¯re done. Another strike came. Shinjiro tried to dodge¡ªtoo slow. A fist slammed into his cheek¡ªhis head snapped to the side, blood spitting from his mouth. His vision turned hazy. The world spun. His legs buckled. He dropped to one knee. Shinjiro: (panting) No¡­ His body wanted to fall. His mind wanted to stop. But something deeper inside him refused. Genzo: (annoyed) Just stay down. Shinjiro gripped the ground, his fingers digging into the dirt. His chest heaved, his entire body shaking. He had never felt this broken before. Everything hurt. His ribs screamed with every breath. His arms felt like they weighed a thousand tons. His body was battered and broken. But he wouldn¡¯t submit. Shinjiro: (gasping for air) ¡­No.. I need to win. Shinjiro: All this time. I couldn¡¯t do anything. I couldn¡¯t help Shun. Shinjiro: (gritting) I need to fight! Shinjiro: Movee!! (he looked at his trembling legs) He forced himself to rise. His legs trembled, but he stood. His head hung low, blood dripping from his face onto the cracked pavement. Shinjiro blacked out. Genzo: (frowning) You really don¡¯t know when to quit. Shinjiro hears a voice, it was the voice of the figure in the void. ¡°You are almost there. Wake up¡± Shinjiro tightened his legs and was standing. His eyes were sharp. Shinjiro: (weak ) ¡­Quitting is death. Genzo¡¯s smirk faded. The fight should have been over. But Shinjiro was still standing. Bleeding. Broken. But standing. Genzo: (serious) Tch. This is getting annoying. Another attack came¡ªbut this time, Shinjiro moved. Faster. His body shouldn¡¯t have been able to react, but something pushed him forward. Shinjiro: (breathing heavily) I won¡¯t lose this time. His stance steadied. His breathing slowed. The fight wasn¡¯t over yet. And in the blink of an eye¡ªhe moved. Genzo¡¯s grin faltered. A flicker of something passed through his eyes¡ªconfusion, then realization. His breath hitched as he staggered, a sudden weakness washing over him. His body, which had moved like a phantom moments ago, now felt heavy. He coughs up blood. Genzo: (gritting his teeth) Tch¡­ I don¡¯t have enough time. His fingers trembled. His legs wobbled beneath him. His time was running out. Shinjiro noticed the shift. He didn¡¯t know what was happening to Genzo, but he wasn¡¯t about to let the opportunity slip. His fists clenched, muscles tensing. He had to finish this before the man regained his strength. Genzo turned slightly. His teeth clenched¡ªhe was losing control. Genzo: (low growl) Damn it¡­ That was all Shinjiro needed. He pushed forward with everything he had, fists flying. He wasn¡¯t just swinging wildly¡ªthis time, he was calculating. He remembered the fights, the trials, the moments where instinct took over. Now, he was trying to control it. Genzo blocked the first punch but stumbled back slightly. Too slow. Shinjiro didn¡¯t give him a chance to recover. He slipped behind him, twisting his body, aiming a sharp hook to the ribs. Genzo gasped, his body jerking from the impact. Shinjiro: (to himself) I can do it. Genzo swung wildly, but Shinjiro sidestepped, grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward. Using Genzo¡¯s own momentum against him, he drove a crushing elbow into his sternum. Genzo coughed violently, his breath escaping in a sharp wheeze. His knees buckled slightly, but he refused to fall. Shinjiro¡¯s stance shifted. He had seen these movements before. They weren¡¯t just random attacks¡ªthey were techniques. Precise, efficient. The kind he had seen in brutal street fights, the kind that broke people down piece by piece. He took a quick step forward¡ªlow kick to the shin. Genzo stumbled. Before he could regain balance, a rising knee to the gut. The air left his lungs in a choked gasp. Shinjiro saw it¡ªGenzo¡¯s body was swaying. He was vulnerable. And that¡¯s when Shinjiro struck with everything he had. He surged forward, grabbing Genzo¡¯s collar. A crushing headbutt. Bone met bone with a sickening crack. Blood spurted from Genzo¡¯s nose, his vision spinning. Shinjiro pulled his arm back and punched hard with everything he had. Shinjiro: (screamed) Yahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Genzo: (screamed) You did it?? Huh? That¡¯s what you feel!! He raged forward with a quick step. He threw his dagger, it went like a beam. Shinjiro barely dodges it, it cuts on his forehead. Genzo throws a punch to his gut. Shinjiro embraces for impact and takes the punch. He punches Genzo back, he staggers but manages to stay up. It had become a bloody battle. Genzo was weakening. Genzo staggered, his breathing turning ragged. His once-fluid movements were now sluggish, his limbs trembling as if his own body was betraying him. His skin paled, a sickly sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. He tried to lift his arm, but his fingers twitched uncontrollably. He refused to give in and fought regardless. Genzo: Just a bit longerr. It was a brawl. Shinjiro was simply pushing through sheer will. He refused to give up. As he saw Genzo weakening, his resolve strengthened. Genzo lunged at him, dagger in hand, aiming straight for his ribs. Shinjiro twisted his body, barely dodging the strike. This was it. He planted his foot into the ground, using the momentum from the dodge to pivot. Genzo: (eyes widening) What¡ª? Shinjiro¡¯s body rotated mid-air, his leg whipping around in a devastating arc. It was fast¡ªtoo fast for Genzo to react. A Brazilian kick. The heel of Shinjiro¡¯s foot crashed into the side of Genzo¡¯s head like an axe, sending him stumbling back. Shinjiro: (growling) Stay Down!!! Genzo gasped, swaying. His body refused to move. His legs finally gave out, and with a heavy thud¡ª He fell to his knees. Rose seemed to be waking up. The world around her was splintering. Rose¡¯s breath was ragged as she stood in the endless void of her nightmare. The echoes of the past clawed at her mind, dragging her back into the depths of despair. The screams of her parents, the suffocating helplessness¡ªit was all real. The well. The blood. The man standing above her, victorious. The ground beneath her feet cracked, and she was falling¡ªagain, and again, and again. Her mind refused to let her go. Darkness: (whispering) You¡¯ve always been weak. The shadows curled around her, whispering, laughing. Darkness: You couldn''t save them. You never will. Rose fell to her knees, clutching her head. The world twisted and morphed¡ªher house, burning; her mother, sobbing; her father, dying. The cycle repeated like an unending nightmare, trapping her in her own pain. Then¡ª A sound. A voice cutting through the chaos. Shinjiro: (distant, echoing) Wake up¡­ The world trembled. The air around her pulsed, the endless night quivering like glass under pressure. The figures of her past glitched, flickering between reality and illusion. The darkness roared, desperate to hold her down. Darkness: (hissing) You belong here. This is where you will stay. You will break, over and over again. Shinjiro: (closer) Rose! Crack. A fracture split the sky above her. The world was breaking. She turned her head. The void wasn¡¯t endless anymore. It was shattering. Large, jagged cracks spread across the sky like the splintering of a mirror. Through them, glimpses of reality shone through¡ªthe blood moon, the alleyway, the chilling wind against her skin. The truth. Rose gasped, her fingers twitching. She wasn¡¯t in the past. She was here. The pieces of her nightmare crumbled, falling into the abyss. She clenched her fists, standing up. Rose: (whispering) I am not weak. Then she hears a voice. It was her mother. ¡°You were never weak. Go!¡± Rose: (cried) I am sorry¡­ Her mother and father hugged her. ¡°Be Brave! We love you!¡± The darkness screamed, desperate, but it was too late. With one final shatter, the world around her collapsed into nothingness. The echoes, the voices, the pain¡ªit all vanished. Rose¡¯s eyes snapped open. She was confused what was happening. She was back. The night air stung her skin, the scent of blood sharp in her nose. Her fingers twitched against the cold ground, and her vision was blurry¡ªbut there, just in front of her, stood Shinjiro. And Genzo¡ªbloodied, beaten, kneeling. Genzo: You did it Shinjiro. You beat me. Genzo struggles but he stands up. He takes out the dagger from his pocket. Shinjiro: It¡¯s over. Genzo: Yeah. It is. (coughs blood) Shinjiro stood panting, his fists clenched, his body screaming in agony. His arms felt like lead, his legs barely able to hold him up. Genzo: You fought well. But¡­ you still can¡¯t do anything. Not yet. Shinjiro: (breathing heavily) ¡­What are you talking about? Genzo: You are forced to live in this hell. Genzo tilted his head back, his eyes locking onto the blood-red moon hanging above them. The sky pulsed unnaturally, like something alive, something watching. Genzo: The wrath of them¡­ the darkness lurking¡­ Shinjiro followed his gaze, his breath hitching. The moon¡­ it looked deeper. Redder. As if something within it was stirring. Genzo: Nothing shall remain afterward ! His voice had changed. It was no longer playful, no longer mocking. It was filled with something else¡ªcertainty. Genzo: (gritted teeth) We will take our revenge ! We will rise again ! He took a step back, his body swaying, his blood staining the alley floor. Genzo: O Bloody God! Shinjiro''s breath caught in his throat. Something was wrong. Genzo: (voice rising) We seek blood! Bring us victory! And He drove the dagger into his own heart. Shinjiro''s eyes widened in horror as Genzo¡¯s body convulsed. Blood poured from his chest, staining his hands, his feet, the cold ground beneath him. The wind howled from all directions. The red moon seemed to pulse. And in that moment¡ª The world changed. The moment Genzo¡¯s dagger plunged into his own heart, time itself seemed to shudder. His hands trembled as if resisting the inevitability of death¡ªthen, as his fingers twitched for the last time, he fell down on his knees. And then¡ª A sudden rush of wind. It didn¡¯t howl or whistle¡ªit roared, a force of nature that erupted from nowhere, swallowing the entire street in its violent embrace. Dust and debris from the cobbled ground, twisting into the air like a typhoon. Shinjiro staggered, barely keeping his balance, his eyes darting toward Rose, whose hair whipped wildly around her face. Everything stopped. A deep, crushing silence. The kind that made the ears ring, the kind that preceded destruction. The blood moon overhead seemed to pulse, its dull glow growing, suffocating the night in an unnatural red. Rose: (her breath shaky) Shinjiro? He couldn''t answer. He could barely breathe. Then the ground shook. Not an earthquake. Not something natural. This was different¡ªwrong. The air thickened, turning almost solid, pressing down on their chests like an invisible weight. A whisper, low and unintelligible, crawled through the air. Darkness was gathering. Chapter 16: Fated Battle Iris and Hirako stood in a dimly lit room on the upper floor of an old building. The air felt heavy, charged with an unseen tension. Then, a chill ran down Iris''s spine¡ªan instinct honed through countless battles. Something was coming. Without hesitation, he moved. In one swift motion, Iris leaped onto the window ledge, his body poised to dive into the unknown. Hirako, watching him, reached for the other blade strapped to his waist¡ªIris, the twin to the sword already in its namesake''s hands. He tossed it forward. Hirako: (steadily) Take it. Iris caught the weapon mid-air and vanished into the night. He landed atop a distant building, his sharp eyes scanning the streets below. Then, he saw it. The lifeless corpse of Genzo lay sprawled on the ground, blood pooling around him. And nearby¡ªShinjiro and Rose. The world itself seemed to recoil. Iris remained still atop the rooftop, one hand resting on his sword, the other gripping the windowsill. His sharp eyes traced the unnatural disturbance unfolding beneath him. The corpse of Genzo twitched, the air around it warping like ripples in a disturbed pond. Then¡ª a pulse. Aether surged, raw and untamed. The space above Genzo¡¯s remains twisted as if reality itself was being rewritten. A deep hum reverberated through the alley, shaking the very foundations of the city. The pulse grew stronger, the rhythm erratic¡ªbeating like a second heart in the air. A core was forming. A mass of darkness, blacker than the deepest void, hovered above the corpse. It pulsed, drawing in the lingering energy of the fallen warrior, consuming the remnants of his existence. The flesh ripped away from the bones, twisting upward in sickly tendrils, spiraling around the core like a grotesque dance of rebirth. Then, with a sickening crack, the skeleton rose. The body reassembled itself, but it was no longer human. Its bones stretched unnaturally, elongating, warping, reshaping into something monstrous. The flesh molded itself over the twisted frame, bubbling and fusing into place. Then¡ª it breathed. The newly born Arcanor lifted its head. A mass of black, featureless, save for the shifting tendrils that writhed where a face should have been. Two curved horns, jagged like broken blades, protruded from its skull, crackling with residual energy. Tentacles sprouted from its back, thick, pulsating, curling through the air like living shadows. Its humanoid form was grotesque¡ªtowering, unnaturally lean yet built with overwhelming strength. Aether bled from its very skin, wisps of dark energy rising like smoke from its shifting muscles. Its presence was suffocating. Wrong. Iris exhaled sharply, gripping his sword tighter. ¡°An Arcanor¡­¡± He had seen them before. But this¡ªthis felt different. Below, Shinjiro and Rose stood frozen, locked in place by an instinctive terror they had never felt before. The air grew heavier, thicker. The beast had not yet moved, but its existence alone was crushing. Then, it turned its head. A hollow voice, deep and guttural, slipped through the void of its face. "I... am¡­ Here." The winds howled. The storm was here. The Arcanor''s body tensed¡ªthen it screamed. A sound unlike anything human, anything natural. A wail that shattered reality itself. The force erupted in a violent shockwave. BANG. Air split apart. The very atmosphere ruptured under the sheer weight of its voice. Buildings trembled, windows exploded into shards, and the ground cracked beneath the force. Dust and debris were sent flying in all directions, as if the city itself was recoiling from the creature¡¯s rebirth. Shinjiro and Rose were thrown back instantly, their bodies lifted off the ground like ragdolls before crashing into the rubble. The air rushed out of their lungs, their ears ringing with an unbearable, high-pitched whine. Iris barely managed to stay on his feet, his boots skidding across the rooftop as he threw up an arm to shield his face. Even with his experience, his vision blurred for a moment, his heart hammering against his ribs. Then¡ª silence. A deep, suffocating silence. The kind that comes when the world itself forgets how to breathe. Through the settling dust, the Arcanor loomed. Unmoved. Unchallenged. Unstoppable. And then¡ªit stepped forward. The Arcanor lunged. Its monstrous form blurred¡ªone instant, it stood amidst the wreckage¡­ the next, it was upon them. Tentacles, slick with blackened aether, whipped through the air, their sheer force splitting stone as they tore toward Shinjiro and Rose. Shinjiro¡¯s body screamed at him to move, but he was still reeling from the impact. His limbs felt heavy, his breath short. The shadow of death loomed over him, its claws reaching¡ª And then¡ª CLANG! A flash of steel. A streak of motion. A single, decisive intervention. Iris descended from above like a bolt of lightning. His sword met the incoming tentacle in mid-air, the sheer force of his swing sending a shockwave rippling through the battlefield. Sparks erupted as metal and abyssal flesh clashed, the impact forcing the Arcanor back. Iris landed between the monster and Shinjiro, boots digging into the cracked earth. His second sword, handed to him by Hirako moments before, glinted ominously under the shattered moonlight. His cloak billowed, caught in the remnants of the Arcanor¡¯s monstrous presence. Iris: Shinjiro! Run far from here! For a moment, nothing moved. The Arcanor¡¯s many eyes locked onto Iris¡ªcold, calculating, filled with predatory hunger. Iris flicked his wrist, letting his sword settle into position. His golden eyes, burning with restrained power, narrowed. Iris: (calmly) You¡¯re fast. His fingers tightened around the hilt. Iris: (smirking) But I¡¯m faster. The Arcanor didn''t reply. It merely vanished using Shadow Blink. He looked like the human who died or rather He was Genzo himself who lived in his human form. This was his true form. Genzo: You are an Aetherblade! Shadow Blink is an advanced movement ability unique to Arcanors, allowing them to momentarily dissolve into darkness and reappear instantaneously within a limited range. Unlike normal teleportation, Shadow Blink is not bound by physical space¡ªthe Arcanor melts into the surrounding shadows, traveling through them like flowing liquid before rematerializing at their chosen location. SWOOSH! Iris twisted, barely evading as a tentacle sliced past his cheek. Another lashed toward him¡ªhe ducked, rolling aside just in time. More came, striking like whips from every direction. CLANG! CLANG! SWOOSH! His sword flashed, cutting down the tendrils mid-air. But there were too many¡ªone crashed into his ribs. THWACK! Iris staggered back, his feet skidding across the cobblestone. The impact rattled his bones. He exhaled sharply, ignoring the sharp sting spreading through his side. Arcanor Genzo: (coldly) Still standing? You¡¯re quick, but let¡¯s see how long that lasts. The shadows shifted. Genzo blinked. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Iris¡¯s instincts screamed. "Behind¡ª!" Too late. A tendril smashed into his back, launching him forward. He twisted mid-air, landing with a skid across the ground. He coughed, pain lancing through his body. Iris: (smirking despite the pain) Fast, huh? Looks like I can''t afford to hold back. He reached behind his back¡ªanother sword unsheathed. A twin-blade stance. The air shimmered around him as light energy surged into both weapons. Another blink. Another attack. This time from the side. Then above. Then behind again. The Arcanor blinked and struck, over and over, forcing Iris onto the defensive. His swords flashed as he dodged, deflected, countered¡ªeach movement sharp, precise. But even he knew¡ª Iris : If this keeps up, I¡¯ll be overwhelmed. The Arcanor¡¯s next attack came from above. Iris dodged at the last second, flipping back, his mind racing. He needed to shift the tempo. Iris exhaled sharply, lifting one hand. Aether gathered at his fingertips, condensing into three brilliant orbs of light. They hovered around him, their glow intensifying with each second. Iris: Glow. With a flick of his wrist, the orbs shot forward, streaking through the battlefield like comets. The Arcanor twisted its body, tendrils snapping outward, smashing one orb mid-air. The explosion sent out a shockwave, but the creature barely flinched. Another orb streaked toward its face, but it blinked away before impact, reappearing on the other side of the battlefield. Iris: Damn. The Arcanor raised one clawed hand. The shadows around it convulsed, then solidified into jagged spikes, shooting toward Iris at terrifying speed. Iris¡¯s light orbs flickered, shifting position mid-flight, colliding with the incoming spikes¡ªeach impact exploding in a burst of light and darkness clashing. But the Arcanor wasn¡¯t stopping. It blinked again, closing the distance in an instant, tendrils coiling for the next attack. Iris¡¯s grip on his swords tightened. The sheer force of the clash between Iris and the Arcanor sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. The very air crackled with energy¡ªlight and darkness colliding in a violent display. Shinjiro and Rose stood a fair distance away, just beyond the reach of the destruction, their eyes locked on the fight unfolding before them. Shinjiro clenched his fists, feeling the tension in his muscles. His instincts screamed at him to jump in, to help, but his body wouldn¡¯t move. Shinjiro: He¡¯s¡­ fast. Iris blurred across the battlefield, his twin swords flashing like streaks of silver against the Arcanor¡¯s endless tendrils. Yet, even with all that speed, he was struggling. The Arcanor¡¯s Shadow Blink allowed it to phase in and out of sight, striking from every direction in an instant. Rose, standing beside Shinjiro, observed the fight with her arms crossed. Her expression was unreadable¡ªcalm, collected. Rose: (flatly) This isn¡¯t looking good for him. Shinjiro shot her a quick glance. Shinjiro: What do you mean? Iris is holding his own. Rose: (shaking her head) That¡¯s just it. He¡¯s holding his own. Barely. She exhaled, her sharp eyes following Iris¡¯s movements closely. Rose: Iris is the weakest of the Aetherblade Masters. Shinjiro¡¯s eyes widened slightly. Shinjiro: What? Rose: You heard me. He may be fast, but compared to the other Aetherblades, he¡¯s the least powerful. Shinjiro: But he¡¯s still fighting that thing alone¡­ The Arcanor¡ªGenzo¡ªlurched forward, his inky-black form twisting unnaturally, his tentacles slithering through the air like living shadows. The battlefield trembled under his presence, his malice spreading like a suffocating fog. Then¡ªhis eyes shifted, glowing with a sinister violet hue. The moment their gazes locked, Iris felt it¡ªa presence clawing at his mind, twisting through his consciousness like creeping vines. A voice slithered into his head, heavy and hypnotic, laced with venomous whispers. Genzo: (soft, almost soothing) Drop your swords, Iris. This fight is pointless. You were never strong enough. Never meant to stand among the Aetherblades. The words felt weighted, an invisible pressure pushing down on Iris¡¯s mind, trying to force him into submission. His body stiffened. His fingers twitched. His heartbeat slowed. For a brief second¡ªhe almost let go. Then¡ªhe gritted his teeth. A blinding golden light exploded from his body, his very soul resisting the invading force. Iris: (low, voice steady) You think you can crawl into my mind, monster? His eyes sharpened. His breathing steadied. He focused¡ªdrawing upon his Aether energy. A surge of radiant light enveloped his body, coalescing at his temples, forming a mental barrier¡ªa dome of pure Aether-infused willpower. Genzo¡¯s whispers shattered against the barrier like waves crashing against an immovable cliff. Iris exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on his swords. He forced Genzo out. The Arcanor staggered back for a moment, his tendrils retracting slightly, his shadowy form flickering as if momentarily destabilized. Iris rolled his shoulders, shaking off the last remnants of Genzo¡¯s influence. Iris: (smirking, voice steady) You¡¯ll have to do better than that. Genzo¡¯s form shifted, his massive body contorting as the air around him darkened. His chest expanded, his blackened flesh cracking as glowing crimson veins surged across his body like molten lava. His horns pulsed with eerie red energy, and then¡ª A sound began to rise. A deep, guttural growl vibrated through the battlefield, the very ground trembling beneath it. A pressure unlike anything before. The sound grew, escalating into an unnatural, ear-splitting howl¡ªa devastating shockwave of pure destruction. The moment the Crimson Howl was unleashed, the air rippled violently, the sheer force shattering nearby structures and sending waves of power blasting through the area. The very light in the sky seemed to flicker in its presence. Iris¡¯s body was sent flying, crashing through the remnants of a stone wall. His ears rang with an unbearable, high-pitched noise, his vision blurring for a brief second. His entire body screamed in protest. Genzo: (voice distorted, thundering) You are not worth my time! Iris gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand, his hands gripping his swords as he staggered forward. Blood dripped from his lip, his ears still ringing. He could barely hear anything¡ªbut his instincts screamed at him. His eyes narrowed as he saw the battlefield before him. Everything within a fifty-meter radius was in ruins. The sheer force of Genzo¡¯s attack had obliterated everything in its wake. Iris: (panting, wiping the blood from his mouth, smirking despite the pain) Damn¡­ that almost hurt. Iris: Why don¡¯t you tell me something? Genzo: What? Iris: What do you fight for? Genzo: To end this world. Iris: You know what I fight for? Genzo: Iris Hawke? What a girly name. You fight for your mother? How did she die? Iris: (furious) Stop talking. Let me show you! Radiant Barrage. The spears hovered for a mere heartbeat before launching forward with blinding speed, streaking through the air like divine arrows descending from the heavens. Genzo reacted instantly. His tentacles lashed out, moving like living shadows, warping and shifting to intercept the incoming attack. The dark tendrils split apart, some forming shields while others extended into razor-sharp blades, slicing through the air with impossible precision. Lightning orbs condensed into spears of pure energy, surrounding him like celestial weapons ready to strike. The first few spears clashed against his defences, detonating on impact with a thunderous crack, sending arcs of electricity dancing across the battlefield. The ground trembled beneath the sheer force of their collision. Genzo: (laughs) Now you are talking! His Shadow Blink activated in a whisper of darkness, his form flickering, vanishing just before another spear could impale him. He reappeared behind Iris, his claws swiping forward, aimed to tear through flesh¡ª But Iris had anticipated it. Without turning, he thrust his sword backward, its blade crackling with infused Aether. Genzo barely had time to react, twisting his body to avoid being skewered, but even as he dodged, another lightning spear veered sharply midair, altering its trajectory at the last second¡ª BOOM! It struck Genzo¡¯s side, sending an explosion of light cascading through the battlefield. His body reeled backward, tendrils writhing in pain as smoke rose from the wound. Iris didn¡¯t stop. With a single fluid motion, he stepped forward and vanished in a golden flash, reappearing mid-air, his swords crossed before him. Another set of Glow Spears materialized, five in total, each crackling with barely contained power. He raised his swords, commanding them forward. The sky above erupted in golden streaks of death. Shinjiro watched as Iris weaved through the battlefield, golden spears of lightning clashing against Genzo¡¯s abyssal darkness. The sheer force of their battle shook the ground beneath them. Shinjiro: (wide eyed) The weakest Aetherblade? Rose: The title seems to be old now. He¡¯s not losing. The battlefield trembled as Genzo¡¯s body convulsed, his twisted form expanding, the air around him warping like reality itself was rejecting his existence. His inky black tendrils stretched toward the sky, shadow veins crawling through the ground like cracks in glass. Genzo: (voice distorted, eyes glowing crimson) You want to see true power, Aetherblade? Then allow me to teach you despair. A suffocating darkness erupted, swallowing the battlefield whole. The sky itself seemed to bleed into the void as all traces of light vanished. A black sun formed above them, its core swirling with an abyssal energy so dense that it crushed the very air, making it harder to breathe. Eclipse Domain. The world turned pitch black. Shadows pulsed like a living entity, slithering through the battlefield, stretching out from Genzo¡¯s body as if all of existence was bending to his will. Shinjiro and Rose could see nothing¡ªjust an endless void. A hollow, consuming nothingness. Rose: (stiffening, her voice unsteady) W-where did they go? Shinjiro: (gritting his teeth) Iris¡­ Inside the Eclipse Domain, Iris stood alone. The shadows whispered, pulling at his body, clawing at his mind, his soul. Genzo: (his voice echoing from all directions) Do you feel it, Iris? This is absolute silence. This is where all light comes to die. A hundred tendrils lashed out, faster than before, striking Iris from all directions¡ªno ground, no sky, just pure darkness. SLASH! A streak of golden light cut through the abyss. Iris: (panting, gripping his swords) I already told you¡­ The darkness thickened, pressing against his skin, dragging him down. Genzo''s crimson eyes glowed like beacons in the abyss. Genzo: (low, guttural) You have no place here. Iris closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled. Iris: (softly) No¡­ this is where you lose. He raised both swords, and everything around him shifted. Golden veins of pure Aetherlight cracked through the darkness. A soft hum filled the void, vibrating with a power older than the world itself. Iris took a deep breath, then exhaled. The air around him collapsed. The black sun above shattered. Every last trace of light in the battlefield was drawn to him. And then¡ª Ultimate Judgment. The world did not just brighten¡ªit burned. Blinding light erupted from Iris¡¯s very being, turning the battlefield into a sea of radiance. The air itself turned golden, as thousands of luminous swords formed above him, each one vibrating with raw destruction. Genzo: (screaming, his body cracking apart) NO! THIS CANNOT¡ª Iris: (his voice echoing like thunder) Begone. Genzo: (with his last breath) THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING!! He swung his sword. The golden swords rained down¡ªpiercing through Genzo¡¯s body, his shadows, his very existence. Light erased darkness. The Eclipse Domain shattered like fragile glass. The real world returned, the sky turning blue again¡ªexcept for one thing. Genzo¡¯s body, impaled a hundred times over. But Iris wasn¡¯t finished. His golden aura condensed, his swords merging into one final strike. He thrust his blade forward, straight into Genzo¡¯s core. A blinding explosion of light erupted, tearing apart the shadows. Genzo let out one final, blood-curdling scream. BOOM. Silence. Nothing remained¡ªexcept for dust, scattered in the wind. Iris stood amidst the fading light, his breath ragged, his swords lowered. Rose and Shinjiro stared from a distance, their hearts pounding. Shinjiro: (whispering, still in disbelief) He¡­ won. Rose: (eyes narrowed) That was the weakest Aetherblade? Shinjiro: (exhaling) what a monster. Iris wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing at the empty space where Genzo once stood. Iris: (quietly) Rest now.. Iris was covered in injuries but He did not feel pain only the delight that he won. He turned, walking away, leaving behind only the light. As the Red Moon vanished, the night began to break. A faint golden hue stretched across the horizon, casting its first light upon the battlefield. The air, once thick with the stench of death and battle, now carried the crisp scent of morning. The Dawn had come. Shinjiro and Rose stood in silence, watching as the darkness retreated. The sky bled into shades of deep blue and amber, the stars fading one by one. Shinjiro: (softly) It¡¯s over¡­