The morning sun filtered through the canopy of trees, casting soft golden rays onto the forest floor as Kairo stood silently at the edge of a quiet stream. Its water flowed gently, mirroring the peace he yearned to find but hadn't yet grasped. A light breeze stirred the leaves above, whispering secrets of the earth that only nature could understand. Behind him, Ayame and the rest of the group remained silent, respecting his need for solitude.The battle with Lord Ethan had left more than just physical scars. It had carved into their souls, branded them with memories that would haunt their dreams. Ethan’s final breath had been drawn in rage and fear, his ambition swallowed by the very power he sought to control. Kairo had watched him die—had delivered the final blow—but rather than satisfaction, it had left him hollow.Ayame approached quietly, her steps light but deliberate. She stopped a few feet away and watched him with careful eyes. “You haven’t spoken since we left the burial sit

The battlefield lay in eerie silence. Smoke curled into the blood-red sky as the aftermath of the war echoed in Kairo's ears. Bodies—friend and foe—littered the ground, and the once glorious fortress of the Scarlet Blades now stood broken, scorched by the fires of Ethan’s final failed ritual. Yet in the middle of it all stood Kairo, bloodied but unbowed, gripping his blade tightly, the cursed energy slowly settling.Ayame knelt beside a fallen ally, her tears silent, her expression unreadable. The bond between them had only grown stronger through every battle, every betrayal. Kairo walked over, each step heavy with the cost of victory."We survived," he murmured.Ayame looked up at him. "But at what cost?"Kairo said nothing. He didn’t have an answer, not yet. There was still too much to process. Too many names to remember, to honor.From behind them, Riku limped forward, his left arm in a makeshift sling. "The remnants of Ethan’s forces are retreating. The ritual is broken. Whatever

The silence that followed Lord Ethan’s fall was unlike any Kairo had ever known. Not the silence of still air or hushed forests—but a quiet so deep it trembled with meaning. It was the kind of silence that came after a storm when even the wind seemed unsure whether to move again.Ayame stood beside him, her katana lowered but not sheathed. Her eyes, once hardened by countless battles, now shimmered with something softer. Relief? Maybe. But there was also wariness. She knew—as did Kairo—that a slain tyrant didn’t mean a slain threat.Around them, the battlefield remained scarred. Crimson streaks painted broken stones, and the scent of blood still clung to the air. Warriors of the Silent Blade and the allied clans moved cautiously, unsure whether the final blow truly ended the war. Some wept for the fallen. Others sat, gripping their weapons, eyes darting at every shift in the wind.Kairo exhaled slowly, lowering his blade until its tip touched the earth.“It’s over,” Ayame whispered.K

The sun hung low over the plains, painting the skies in hues of soft gold and quiet crimson. It had been three days since Kairo and Ayame destroyed the fortress of Vael. The land was still quiet, eerily so, like it was holding its breath. But for the first time in years, that silence didn’t feel like fear. It felt like the beginning of something new.Kairo stood at the edge of the charred ruins, wind teasing the edges of his cloak. Ash and broken stone lay scattered like the remnants of a long-forgotten nightmare. Behind him, Ayame approached silently, her boots crunching lightly over gravel.“We should move on,” she said gently. “There’s nothing left here.”He nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the horizon. “I know. But I needed to see it one more time. I wanted to be sure this part of the war was truly over.”Ayame stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm. “Ethan’s reign is gone. Malric’s uprising crumbled before it could spread. You gave the people something they hadn’t had in a l

The wind was brutal on the return journey. It cut through Kairo’s cloak like shards of glass, howling as if it carried the voices of the dead. He rode in silence, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the path ahead, while Ayame followed closely behind, her expression calm but her posture tense. Neither of them spoke much—not because there was nothing to say, but because the weight of what lay ahead loomed too heavily to put into words.By the time they reached the outer walls of the fortified rebel settlement, the skies were already darkening. Guards immediately recognized them and rushed to open the gates.“Kairo! Lady Ayame! You’ve returned—was it true?” one of them called out.Kairo nodded grimly. “The villages weren’t rumors. We saw the aftermath ourselves.”“And the enemy?”Ayame dismounted, her boots hitting the ground with purpose. “His name is Dravak. And he’s worse than anything we’ve faced before.”The guard stiffened at the name. “Dravak... But I thought he died in the Great Purge—”