The wind carried a strange chill that evening.Kairo stood on the edge of the Sanctum wall, overlooking the village bathed in dusk. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, the scent of freshly cooked meals mingling with the wildflowers that had begun to bloom again in the fields. Peace, it seemed, had finally made a home here.But peace was a fragile thing.He heard the soft footfalls before she spoke.“You’ve been quiet lately,” Ayame said, her voice low and familiar.“Quiet doesn’t mean lost,” Kairo replied without looking.She moved beside him, arms crossed, her gaze following his. “Still thinking about the statue?”“No.” His voice tightened. “About the message Reina intercepted this morning.”Ayame's eyes narrowed. “The one written in Old Tongue? From the Southern Isles?”Kairo nodded. “It bore the symbol of the Crimson Lotus.”Ayame stiffened. “That order was wiped out years ago. You—”“I thought I ended them,” he said, cutting her off. “But someone survived. And they’re hunting down

The marshland was quiet again.After the fire died, only smouldering wood and the smell of smoke lingered in the air. The shrine was gone. The statues, the relics, the whispered history—it all turned to ash. And yet, the weight in Kairo’s chest had only grown heavier.He sat by the edge of the blackened pool, the fog thick around him. His blade rested across his lap, unsheathed, as if it too needed air to breathe.Ayame stood behind him, arms crossed, watching the smoke curl into the sky.“You haven’t said a word in hours,” she said gently.He didn’t turn. “There’s nothing to say.”“She tried to kill us both. You didn’t owe her anything.”“I know.”But his voice was hollow. The kind of hollow that came after every battle when the adrenaline wore off and the silence hit harder than steel.Ayame walked over and knelt beside him, placing a warm hand on his arm. “You didn’t kill her, Kairo. I did.”He finally looked at her. His eyes weren’t angry. I'm just tired.“She raised me,” he whisp

The battlefield lay quiet. Smoke curled from the smouldering earth, and the sun was only just beginning to rise, casting a dim orange light across the scorched plains. The wind whispered over the ruins of what had once been Ethan’s domain, now reduced to rubble and ash. Kairo stood amidst the silence, his cloak tattered and stained, the Silent Blade resting sheathed at his side, humming faintly as if mourning the lives taken during the final clash.Ayame moved beside him, her expression calm but weighed by the burden of the war they had just survived. The body of Ethan had been cremated the night before, his ashes scattered by the winds as part of the Silent Blade's ancient rites. No monument. No name spoken. Just silence."It's over," Ayame said quietly, her gaze fixed on the blackened horizon.Kairo exhaled slowly. "Not yet. There's still much to rebuild."Behind them, the remnants of their group gathered. Mei, now wearing the crimson robes of the newly formed Order of Shadows, had

The sun had not yet risen fully when Kairo and Ayame descended from the rocky highlands into a dense, strange forest—one that did not appear on any map they had studied. The trees were tall, gnarled, and covered in silvery moss that shimmered even in the absence of light. The wind carried soft murmurs, like voices long silenced. It was beautiful. And unsettling.“The villagers call it the Forest of Forgotten Whispers,” Ayame said, her voice low.Kairo raised a brow. “You’ve heard of it?”“Aysel and I read about it once. They say this place bends time, memory… and fate. It’s where souls of fallen warriors come to rest, but only if their deaths were unjust.”Kairo's gaze lingered on the shifting mist that curled between the trunks. “Then it’s fitting that we came here. Aysel might’ve found her way through.”They moved quietly, their footsteps muffled by the thick, mossy ground. As they pressed deeper, the forest grew eerily quiet. Even the birds seemed to hold their breath.Suddenly, Ay

The forest behind them was still—too still.Kairo and Ayame trudged in silence, hands occasionally brushing but never quite clasping. Dirt clung to their boots, blood dried on their sleeves, and behind their eyes was the kind of exhaustion only battle—and loss—could bring.“Are you sure it’s dead?” Ayame finally asked, her voice a breath against the wind.Kairo didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained forward, scanning the path ahead. The earth still trembled in a way he didn’t like. Not earthquakes—no, it was more subtle. A feeling beneath his feet, like a heart that refused to stop beating.“I’m not sure,” he said at last. “But for now, we’ve stopped it.”Ayame exhaled and stepped closer. “Then we keep moving.”They reached a fork in the narrow trail. One path led down into a fog-covered valley, the other curved upward along sharp cliffs that shimmered with crystals. Kairo hesitated, then pointed to the misty vale.“Yurei Vale,” he murmured. “A place the ancients called ‘the res