Mist, all who have opposed you have been killed. Once you deal with the rabble, the Khan will belong to you!” said the leader dressed in black. “Have you killed Spout?” asked Mist excitedly. “We did not find him, maybe he hid himself earlier,” the man calmly replied. “He’s not dead? Fine, let it be. After tonight, the Khan will be all mine, there is nothing Spout can do anyway,” Mist continued, his voice carried tones of regret, but otherwise it was unacknowledged.

“Mist… you conspired with outsiders to kill your own clansmen?! You really are scum!” screamed one of the Khan angrily. Once the group of darkly-dressed men arrived, all was clear to the Khan, and it left nothing but angry faces. “Hahaha… winner takes all! After tonight, who would dare say Mist Khan isn’t one?” Mist guffawed.

Seeing this unfold, Zephyr did not move a muscle, neither did he plan to attack. He knew these leaders were not noble nor were they honorable, only out for themselves. Who knew? Perhaps their murders may help the Khan in the future. However, a venomous glare came his way. “You must be scared, aren’t you? Regretful?” Puck walked over smiling, sword in hand. “Zephyr, I know you have a great boon on you. If you tell me, I might let you… live,” Mist turned his gaze towards Zephyr, with glances of hope in between his malicious expression. Mist knew Zephyr was far too strong for his age, he knew Zephyr had a boon of sorts that had helped him. He wanted it.

“You like Leah right? Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll let you go! Or, if you don’t mind… heh heh heh,” Puck chortled, his smile implied that everything was in place. It was cut short though, as something else cut right through his heart — Zephyr’s bladed energy. Puck’s eyes went wide, the hole in his chest bled profusely. He stared at Zephyr, unable to accept what had happened. “Impossible…!” Puck collapsed in front of many onlookers. “Puck!” Mist cried out, his voice cracked.

“Shit! F*cker’s not poisoned!” The group of assassin’s reacted quickly, and turned their gaze towards Zephyr.

“Kill him!”

“Kill him now!”

With that, the assailants armed themselves to charge towards Zephyr. “Zephyr, give me back my son!” cried Mist as he led the charge. His eyes were red with both tears and anger. He waved his sword at Zephyr conjuring his bladed assault. Every one of them was powerful, the mere launch of their offensive crushed the air around them.

They were about to surround Zephyr, when a great voice boomed from behind. “Stop this at once!” His voice was like thunder, it cracked across the courtyard, and sent ripples through everyone. It was here that Zephyr’s eyes glowed as he drew his blade. “Seven Slashes - Sixth Slash!” In that moment, Zephyr was like lightning, he created numerous afterimages, his bladed energy spread out like a blooming flower, then it flew out in all directions...