The Last of Red Akatara

Sukma and Kamala were gone, leaving their little brother behind, burdened with immense power and an even greater responsibility.

The pursuers, who had relentlessly chased Sakti, began to falter, consumed by their growing confusion.

“Hey, this can’t be a joke, right?”
“Those horns… there’s no doubt. Sukma must be dead.”
“I’ve never seen a scene like this. Are we really safe staying here?”
“It’s like he left his little brother behind on purpose… to kill us.”
“Wait, hold on, what’s happening to us? Wasn’t it foolish to chase a wounded Akatara without bringing Ajina Dala with us?”

“But... this doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t we think about Ajina Dala just now?”

“It’s like we were completely unaware of their existence.”

The city guards, including the captain who had subdued Sukma earlier, suddenly snapped out of their haze, exchanging confused remarks:

“What’s going on? Why are we here?”
“Where are Sukma and Lord Adikara?”
“I don’t even remember walking to this place…”

Bewildered and disoriented, they were unable to understand what was happening, yet one undeniable truth stared them in the face. Their disbelief deepened as they turned their gaze upward, to the sight of Sakti. He was in the midst of a terrifying transformation, becoming something that could only be described as their worst nightmare.

"Please, tell me you brought the relic, didn’t you?" someone asked to the guards, his voice trembling with deep worry, eyes searching desperately for reassurance.The tension in the air thickened as the realization began to set in—this was no ordinary confrontation, and their decisions had led them straight into a deadly trap.

"Sukma? No… it’s his little brother!" a man exclaimed, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“This sight... there’s no mistaking it.”

“Damn it! Run! Get away from here now! The inheritance of the “Akatara Ruler's” shouldn't be done in a place like this!” one of the guards shouted in panic.

The crowd gathered beneath Sakti erupted into chaos, scrambling to escape. But as they took their first steps, an unnatural force seized them, and they all collapsed at once. Over 200 people, not including the dozens from the Dark Factions observing from the left flank, lay incapacitated.

"What’s happening? What’s wrong with my legs?"

“Hey! Get up!” a young man cried out, his voice frantic as he tried to rouse his friend.

“Worry about your own legs first!” his friend snapped back, struggling against the invisible weight that held them down.

The young man's panic deepened as he realized that his own legs had gone numb, unresponsive to his commands.

In desperation, some resorted to severing their own legs, crawling on their hands in a futile attempt to flee. But they had forgotten one undeniable truth: the very being that had cursed their world was standing among them.

The curse spread swiftly, like a plague. Their bodies turned sickly gray, their sclerae darkened, ink-like shadows creeping across their eyes. Those who had fallen to the corruption rose, now twisted and controlled by the creature, and began to turn on the others. The air became thick with terror as the infected tore into their former comrades, spreading the curse in a nightmarish chain reaction.

"This is a sight we haven’t seen in a long time," one of the guards muttered. "Most of the people here didn’t witness Queen Mega’s rampage firsthand..."

"That’s right. They don’t understand how to handle the Akatara power. No, they might have learned, but panic has thrown them off course," another guard replied, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Captain? Why are you just standing there?" one of the subordinates asked, concern creeping into his tone.

"My friend, it’s over for us," the captain said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Someone seems to be playing us, making us mere pawns in their game."

As he spoke, the captain reached out to strike at the cursed body of one of the creatures bound by the blood curse. But his efforts were in vain, as the creature quickly regenerated, its flesh knitting together before his eyes.

"Captain?" his subordinate asked, confusion thick in his voice.

"We’re probably here just to be used as pawns, sacrificed for a greater purpose," the captain continued, bitterness coloring his words. "A tool to be discarded when the time is right."

In the depths of his heart, the captain couldn’t suppress his bitter realization as he gazed at Sakti, glowing ominously above them.

"This happened because we grew too comfortable living in the city," he thought. "We held that foolish festival and forgot the true nature of the world we inhabit. Yes, we are merely pawns... but this is the price we must pay for our negligence."

From a distance, Yeon-Jin—likely still disguised as Adikara—chuckled softly. "Sorry, my poor fellas. Consider this a small redemption for your sins," he said with mocking amusement, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

That was all he said before his figure seemed to vanish, swallowed by the shadows of the forest.

On the other side, the real Yeon-Jin, along with Ausad and their group of subordinates, joined a few individuals who had already gathered near Sakti.

Unlike the panicked crowd of pursuers eager to escape, the Dark Faction remained motionless, silently observing. The faces of the faction members were now visible—horrifyingly lifeless, like the living dead, yet somehow still capable of communication.

"If that’s really, we need to get the kid, no matter what," Ausad said, his voice urgent.

"Staying here too long isn’t wise. The people we need to watch out for might already be closing in," Yeon-Jin replied, his tone resolute, betraying no trace of doubt.

"But the timing’s off. We need to wait for the second wave... no, perhaps the third wave," Yeon-Jin added, his expression calculating, as if weighing every moment carefully.

"Seriously? Not even some of your tricks will work on that child?" Ausad asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, disbelief coloring his words.

"Not right now, Ausad," Yeon-Jin responded with finality, raising a hand to signal for a few of his men to follow him to another location, their movements silent and swift.

Meanwhile, on the other side, two women stood atop the wall near the western gate that encircled the city. From their elevated position, they observed the turmoil unfolding below. One of them, a girl around 16 years old with green hair tinged with blue and a Warm-Medium skin, gazed at the city, her face marked with fatigue and disappointment. "This has gotten really bad," she said, her voice carrying the weight of the moment.

She turned to look toward the source of the light that radiated from Sakti, and with a mixture of disbelief and doubt, she asked, "Are we really going to confront whatever is over there too?"

The older woman beside her, who appeared more mature and like a mentor, took a drag from her cigarette. With her stunning blue-purple hair, complemented by purple lipstick and Warm-Fair skin, she spoke with a calm authority, "Just focus on your task, Disha. This is the perfect moment to show just how powerless those arrogant fools are without us."

Disha flashed a playful grin, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. "I won’t die, will I, Lady Isolde?" she asked, her voice light and teasing.

"Don't worry, I'll die first," the older woman said with a flat expression.

"I won't let that happen, you're my mom," the young girl replied with a playful tone, pretending to be worried.

"Shut up" the older woman said, slightly annoyed, as she spat out her cigarette, her eyes still focused on their destination.

Then they ran toward the location where Sakti was, their steps quick, though the tension in the air was palpable.

The focus shifts to Sakti. Now, he is like a star on the verge of a supernova. Though he appears to float, steady in the air, he is still lost in a void, his consciousness slipping away. Several times, he loses control, his body crashing violently against the cliffs. He rises and falls, clutching his head as if struggling to hold onto something that is beyond his capacity to endure.

But as time passes, the light surrounding him gradually fades, lowering his body toward the ground. Before the light can completely vanish, a swarm of cursed blood creatures approaches him, moving with aggressive intent. Sakti’s eyes glow with red light, and his body is once again consumed by a raging power, a force far beyond anything seen before. This time, something massive is about to unfold, something unstoppable.

The captain and the remaining guards, still locked in battle with the cursed creatures, pause. They exchange looks, their gazes drawn to Sakti, who is now engulfed in terrifying energy. The captain, his expression weary, throws his weapon to the ground, allowing the creatures he had been fighting to sink their fangs into him.

"So, this is how my life ends? A coward, trapped by fate," he says hoarsely, his voice laced with resignation, accepting that he won’t make it out alive.

Those who remain are divided. Some have already given up, accepting death as inevitable. But others, though hopeless, still cling to the desperate wish of escape the horror they face.

Sakti stood firm, his feet pressing against the trembling ground. The red aura that enveloped his body pulsed like a living heart, as if drawing energy from the darkness surrounding the forest. The earth beneath him began to react—not merely shaking, but as though an invisible force was wrapping itself around every piece of metal in the vicinity.

Weapons from the fleeing guards were suddenly ripped from their hands, as if stolen by unseen, vengeful spirits. Blades flew erratically, slashing through unprepared bodies, piercing chests, or embedding themselves deep into torsos. Armor plates, meant for protection, were torn away and shattered ribs instead. Helmets launched into the air, only to smash into the faces of their wearers, the echoes of the impacts reverberating through the trees.

Not far away, the towering cliff began to show signs of destruction. Small stones on its surface floated upward, then hurtled toward Sakti with ferocious speed. Yet, as they approached the crimson aura that surrounded him, they halted mid-air, spinning wildly like satellites trapped in the orbit of a planet, before being hurled back outward, obliterating everything in their path.

Then came something far more terrifying. The guards, whose legs had been numbed earlier by suggestion, now felt an unbearable weight crushing them. No one could remain standing. Their bodies collapsed to the ground, their faces slamming into the cold, damp earth. It wasn’t exhaustion or weakness—it was an unrelenting force, absolute and inescapable.

“Heavy... this isn’t my body anymore. Something is forcing me down…” one guard gasped before falling silent, unable to move another inch.

Above them, the trees began to bow, their trunks groaning under the invisible strain. Roots burst from the soil, as though trying to flee the overwhelming power. Wild animals, hidden moments before, darted from their dens in a desperate panic. A deer stumbled mid-escape, its body crushed instantly under the immense weight pressing it down. Birds attempting to take flight failed to reach the cliff's peak, their wings ceasing to flap, their bodies crashing to the ground like dry leaves swept by the wind.

As the pressure crushed bodies and snuffed out lives, streaks of light began to erupt from Sakti’s form. These weren’t just any lights; they were electric surges—blinding and volatile. Bolts of crackling energy shot outward in all directions, sparking as they struck anything within a 100-meter radius. Trees burst into flames, their bark peeling away as though scorched by an unseen sun. Guards unlucky enough to be struck were reduced to charred remnants, their dying screams drowned out by the cacophony of thunderous discharges.

The blood curse creatures, infamous for their rapid regeneration, now stood no chance. Each time their bodies began to knit themselves back together, a bolt of light would strike them again, severing limbs and ripping through their torsos. The regeneration process became futile—each wound healed only to be torn apart anew. Within moments, they disintegrated entirely, reduced to ash carried away by the wind.

Even the cliff, towering ominously just 25 meters away, began to collapse bit by bit. Massive boulders broke free, tumbling downward in a destructive cascade, obliterating anything left in their wake.

And amidst the devastation, Sakti stood still, unmoving. The crimson aura surrounding him grew ever brighter, draping the dark night. This was no ordinary power—it was a legacy forged through blood, a power whispered of in fear and awe. It was the inheritance passed down from the Legendary Clan, known throughout the ages as the Red Akatara Clan—the rulers of Force.

The chaos in the city feels like a trivial and meaningless tale compared to what is happening here. Beneath the shivering cliff, where Sakti's power erupted in an unimaginable frenzy, its impact far surpasses anything a mere human could ever feel. The air, infused with scorching heat, seems to tremble, and the once-solid ground now resembles wet cloth torn to pieces. Every second after that catastrophic explosion feels like a lost fragment of time, swept away by an unstoppable force.

The towering cliff, once majestic and sturdy, is now torn—cracks in the massive stones releasing dust that rises, erasing any semblance of the tranquility that once existed. Giant rocks, torn from their place, fall like meteor showers, shaking the ground with explosions that reverberate, destroying everything below. This destruction is not just physical, but also spiritual—every stone that falls seems to shatter what little hope remains.

Amidst this chaos, lives are torn apart by the ruthless force of nature that flows endlessly. Those trapped within this force—whether humans or blood curse creatures—no one is left to be saved. Some bodies are flung into the air before crashing to the ground in impossible positions. Others are struck by lightning, their bodies burning until only remnants of charred remains are scattered in the wind.

A silent witness to all of this—the distorted nature, the shattered earth, and the torn bodies—sweeping away anything that stands in its way. The surroundings that once held serenity and beauty are now swept into an abyss of darkness beyond description.

As Sakti began to regain consciousness, his vision still blurry, someone appeared at the most inopportune moment. The girl was Disha, approaching him alone, without her mentor. The emptiness within him slowly began to fill with painful memories as soon as he saw her. Every second of awakening followed by the physical pain he felt reignited bitter memories that he could never forget. The faces of the people from the city appeared in his mind, grinning with hatred as they treated his family harshly, belittling them, viewing them as nothing more than worthless trash. All the suffering he endured, all that had led him into the darkness, returned like thorns stabbing at his heart.

The memories came like a storm, destroying the calm he had just begun to feel. Every trace of their mistreatment, every insulting word ever thrown at him, echoed in his mind. The pain was not only in his body but also in his heart, which had been torn apart. Disha stood a bit further ahead, her gaze calm, as if undisturbed by the chaos that had just unfolded. But for Sakti, that gaze was not one of concern or a desire to help. He saw it as a threat, mistakenly interpreting her presence as one full of ill intentions.

Disha’s face, though devoid of overt emotion, with only a neutral expression, became a symbol of defiance to Sakti. Perhaps, in his disoriented mind, he saw her as a part of the world that had crushed and humiliated him—a world that had easily buried his family in despair. To him, everything before him now was an enemy that needed to be destroyed—including Disha.

Unknowingly, the energy flowing through his body was reignited—the power that should have remained dormant now unleashed in full fury. With eyes filled with rage and revenge, Sakti stared at Disha as though she were a part of that painful past. Without a word, without warning, the energy inside him began to gather, ready to be unleashed. His desire for vengeance was overwhelming, blurring everything else.

"Warm-Medium skin, age around 10-12 years, with hair and eyes now resembling those of Red Akatara. So, this is Sakti Aria?" Disha murmured, describing Sakti’s features along with his unfamiliar surname.

"All I need is mental readiness. I’ve trained with Maragüay, so I should be able to handle this," she continued. "After all, he’s still just a child. I only need to take a few efficient steps."

"I just need to change and then..."

Before Disha could finish her sentence, she was suddenly struck by Sakti, who moved quickly and leaped toward her face.

"What’s going on?!" Disha thought, surprised.

"Is the inheritance effect still in him?" she wondered, alarmed. "This is bad for me, I need to stall until that effect wears off."

"Talking is easy, but what the hell is this? Is this martial arts?" Disha took a step back, her eyes wide as she watched Sakti.

The high kick shot through the air, followed by a flawless spin that made the air around them vibrate. His movements were quick and explosive, yet they still carried a graceful fluidity—nothing excessive, only pure efficiency wrapped in harmony. The jumping kick, the spinning strike, all so characteristic, until Disha was taken aback.

“No doubt about it,” she muttered, half in disbelief. “This is a martial art only Mr. Yeon-Jin possesses. So, Sakti learned this from him?”

Disha’s mind raced. Only a few individuals mastered techniques like this—high kicks with lethal precision, combined with perfect body control. Master Yeon-Jin called it Taekwondo.

There was no denying it; Disha was truly cornered by Sakti’s relentless strikes. Her body felt heavy, her breath ragged, but her mind remained sharp. While fending off blow after blow, she continued to buy time, luring Sakti toward one goal.

Not far ahead, the deafening sound of rushing water began to echo. A river with ferocious currents came into view, shrouded by the dark of night, reflecting the dimming moonlight. Behind her, Sakti kept pursuing, his body still enveloped in a red aura that flickered like fire—terrifying, wild, and uncontrollable.

"Pathetic," Disha muttered between labored breaths, her body nearly giving out from enduring so many attacks. "I planned to show this to Lady Isolde, finish it myself... but it seems I'm still too childish." A thin grin played on her lips, even though her body was exhausted.

Sakti’s next kick almost made her fall, but Disha managed to deflect it with great effort. The kicks and punches, manipulated by Sakti’s uncontrollable power, came at her faster than before.

Gritting her teeth, Disha finally snapped, "I’m done being punched by you, Sakti!" she shouted, her voice echoing above the roaring river. She came to a sudden halt at the riverbank, her body turning to face Sakti, now just a few steps away.

"I’m ending this now," she said coldly, her gaze full of determination despite her weary form. The river behind her roared, as if waiting to witness the confrontation that was about to reach its boiling point beneath the night sky.

Sakti took a step forward, his red aura flaring even more wildly, while Disha stood still at the river’s edge. Her breath was heavy, but her eyes gleamed with unwavering resolve. Slowly, she raised her hand, forming an odd gesture that made Sakti pause for a moment. Her fingers curved, forming a pattern that resembled the head of a serpent, with movements so fluid they seemed alive.

In a swift and coordinated motion, Disha leapt backward, twisting her body in a flawless acrobatic maneuver, as though she were soaring through the air for a brief moment. Sakti, too focused on her, failed to stop his momentum. In the blink of an eye, he plunged into the fierce river, the powerful current immediately engulfing him.

As Sakti fought against the rush of water, he lifted his face, water dripping from his hair, his eyes searching for Disha. When he turned, he saw her changing. With a fluid motion, her body began to shift, transforming into something beyond human. Green and blue scales began to cover her skin, gleaming under the moonlight. From her waist, her form curved, giving rise to a long, powerful tail that moved with deadly elegance. Her eyes, now a piercing blue, glowed with a golden hue, her vertical pupils adding to the air of mystery and menace surrounding her.

Disha, now something more than human, something more than woman, leapt toward Sakti, still struggling against the current. In an instant, her powerful tail coiled around him, its grip strong yet gentle, restraining his movements with an unrelenting force that he couldn’t fight against. Sakti’s body felt locked, trapped within the embrace of her tail, as if he could no longer escape.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Sakti," Disha hissed, her voice deeper than before, almost like a whisper imbued with power. "But you have to come with me."

Sakti, who was nearly drowning in the current, tried to wriggle, but the force binding him was too strong. Every attempt only made him more trapped in Disha’s tail’s coil.

Disha tilted her head, observing Sakti's weakening movements. She knew very well that in this condition, Sakti wouldn’t be able to fight back any longer. Sakti felt his body growing weaker, trapped in the tight grip of Disha’s tail. Although he struggled, the rushing river and Disha’s unyielding grip forced him to follow the flow. The sound of the waterfall grew louder, echoing around them, becoming more intense, almost deafening. Disha continued to pull him, guiding him deeper toward the waterfall's chasm. Every tug of her tail quickened their journey.

“It’s close, this will work, Lady Isolde,” Disha said with a faint smile on her face, looking confident. The success of her mission was almost within her grasp, and a sense of satisfaction began to envelop her. Despite the changes in her body, which gave her more control, there was an odd sensation coming from Sakti’s body. Disha didn’t realize that Sakti hadn’t fully shaken off the "Inheritance Effect."

Suddenly, Disha felt as if her body was being forcefully pushed from within, every muscle in her serpentine form straining, forced to resist the overwhelming power being emitted by Sakti. The pressure was so intense, as if some force was pushing her body to its absolute limit, threatening to tear her apart from the inside. Her tail that coiled around Sakti’s body felt as if it were trapped in an inescapable grip, forced to fight against an impossible force. Panic surged within her.

“What…?” Disha gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she fought to hold back the unspoken pain. “You… can still fight back?”

Her mouth could barely form words due to the immense pressure. Each movement of Sakti, although weak, only worsened the situation, making Disha feel as if her body was being torn apart. Pain spread through her body, making it almost impossible to think clearly.

She felt her body, which was directly in contact with Sakti’s fingers, begin to tear apart. In her mind, she thought, I could really die... I... if I don't make a drastic decision... Lady Isolde will see my corpse soon...

As if preparing to do something, Disha muttered, "There’s no other choice. This may be rude, but it’s for our own good."

In an instant, Disha decided to take it a step further, making a bolder, more dangerous move.

With quick and unexpected movements, Disha brought her face close to Sakti’s, heading for the only part of his body not entangled in her own. She stared at him with intense, calculated focus. In the midst of this tension, she swiftly returned her form to that of a human, but still retained the serpent’s strength flowing within her.

Without giving Sakti a chance to react, Disha pressed her lips against his. The kiss was filled with anxiety, yet calculated. There was tension between them, a chilling silence as their lips met, connecting two different worlds. Disha knew that every second could determine everything. The kiss turned into something more threatening, more tense, as she quickly opened her mouth.

In a split second, her teeth sank into Sakti's tongue with extraordinary force, as if trying to tear it apart. A highly lethal venom, the venom of a pit viper (Trimeresurus insularis), began flowing into Sakti’s body. The venom spread rapidly, coursing through his blood, amplifying the sharp pain, infiltrating his body with devastating efficiency.

Disha felt how sharp and destructive the venom felt as it entered Sakti’s body, sending waves of pain through his entire form. With each passing second, the venom worked faster, weakening Sakti’s strength with relentless force. Meanwhile, Disha suppressed the rising anxiety within herself.

In this state, despite his body being trapped in Sakti's incredible resistance, Disha knew she had to endure to ensure the venom worked perfectly, waiting for its effects to begin to manifest in Sakti’s body.

After several seconds that felt like an eternity, Disha finally pulled away, breaking the kiss with an expression full of resolve as she waited for the subsequent reactions to unfold within Sakti.

Sakti felt a strange sensation immediately enveloping his body. At first, it was just a tingling feeling spreading through him, but slowly, pain began to emerge, crawling through every vein, enveloping his entire body in an ever-deepening darkness. The pit viper’s venom worked quickly and efficiently, like a toxin designed to destroy and paralyze, spreading mercilessly through his human form.

Disha watched calmly as Sakti’s body began to weaken. His eyes started to dull, as if they were being drained of energy, flowing out of him with every passing second. The venom from the viper (Trimeresurus insularis), which was neurotoxic, began to affect his nervous system. Every movement Sakti made became slower, heavier. His body trembled, muscles beginning to lose the strength to move freely, and his breathing grew labored.

The venom attacked his motor neurons, causing progressive paralysis. Sakti felt as though the world was slipping further away from him, his consciousness fading. His once-strong legs now felt like they were sinking into heavy mud, his body growing weaker as though it were being swept away by an invisible current.

Disha knew the venom had completely taken control of Sakti, and with a calculated move, she released her grip on him. As she let go, Sakti’s weakened body lurched forward, carried by the increasingly strong current of the river, heading toward the terrifying waterfall. He could no longer control his body, and with unstoppable momentum, he tumbled over the edge, disappearing into the dark waters below.

As Sakti fell into the waterfall, Disha turned her attention away. Calmly, she returned to her human form, her slender body replacing the powerful and dangerous pit viper shape. But before leaving entirely, she quickly coiled herself around a large rock situated in the river's path. The rock was sturdy, jutting out in the middle of the raging current, serving as an anchor for her now-normal body.

"Huh... That was an incredible experience. Imagine the punches he could’ve delivered when he was in his prime," she muttered to herself. "Sakti, I was already defeated by you before you became something more dangerous. I really just needed to throw him into the waterfall; if it wasn’t for that terrifying moment, the venom should have been unnecessary."

She paused, the quiet realization creeping in. "The venom... isn’t actually enough. It may even make him more determined."

Disha’s expression hardened, determination in her eyes. "That’s why now, it’s your turn, Milady."

Sakti was affected by the venom, but as Disha had stated, it wasn’t an immediate paralysis. It would take time for the effects to fully take hold, and during that time, Sakti would lose control—completely unraveling into madness.

“Target will soon plunge, Milady!” a knight called from a tree overlooking the waterfall. His voice barely cut through the roaring sound of the rushing water.

“I know,” Isolde replied, her tone calm yet firm. She stepped forward with grace, making her way toward the base of the waterfall.

Isolde’s voice sliced through the tension in the air as she issued her command, “Take your places. We know how to deal with an Akatara.” Her words were enough to set the knights into motion. They moved with precision, each taking their place with the discipline of well-trained soldiers. Their faces reflected caution, but there was no hesitation in their actions.

As Isolde drew closer to the waterfall, the scene before her began to shift, becoming something much more mesmerizing. A brown root-like pattern appeared on the back of her neck, glowing faintly but radiating with a palpable power. The motif slowly spread, trailing down her spine and winding around her legs in intricate, beautiful patterns.

The marks seemed to pierce the earth itself, searching for the roots of the trees below. It wasn’t long before the trees on either side of the river began to stir. Their branches creaked, awakening as though from a long slumber. They twisted, coiled, and extended as if alive, each movement deliberate and synchronized with the others.

The branches surged forward in unison, like an extension of Isolde’s will. They twisted and entwined, advancing rapidly toward Sakti, who was falling from the waterfall’s edge. In a terrifyingly swift motion, they reached out, aiming to catch him mid-air with their powerful, grasping limbs.

Isolde remained perfectly still, her eyes sharp and unwavering. The markings on her skin pulsed gently, emanating a quiet energy. She was the maestro of this natural symphony, compelling the forest to bend to her strength.

Sakti, caught in the force of the waterfall’s immense flow, was battered relentlessly by the violent current. His body was battered and submerged, the water constricting around him like a suffocating grip. The combined force of the water and the trees working in unison was overwhelming, draining the energy from him.

The current relentlessly pummeled Sakti’s form, wearing him down until he finally collapsed, his consciousness slipping away. Whether it was death or merely unconsciousness was unclear—what was certain was that Sakti was left utterly powerless, unable to resist the combined forces of nature and magic pressing against him.

"Target secured!" shouted a knight from a distance, confirming the success of their mission.

Upon hearing the news, those involved exhaled in relief. Some even cheered softly, celebrating their success in bringing down an Akatara, something that required extra effort to achieve.

However, elsewhere, Disha, who appeared to be trying to step aside from the river, was suddenly stopped. A group of people quickly approached her, surrounding her without leaving any chance to escape. In a matter of seconds, she was captured.

Meanwhile, Isolde remained unfazed by the euphoria around her. Her gaze was fixed on Sakti, still trapped in the middle of the raging current. His body looked frail, but something about Sakti's presence kept Isolde alert. She hardened her expression, yet her thoughts wandered.

Memories from her past surfaced, haunting her mind. She recalled a time when she was younger, joking with a man whose face was a blur, but the memory felt real. Then another memory emerged—Isolde attending an event, but her face was emotionless, showing no enthusiasm. Finally, the last image: herself kneeling, with several men standing in front of her, the situation unclear. Each of these memories shook her, bringing forth wounds that had not fully healed.

Her eyes returned to the sight of Sakti, caught between the branches of trees and the roaring water. Slowly, Isolde moved her hand, strengthening the grip of the branches. The tree limbs clenched around Sakti's body tighter, as though intent on crushing him. Isolde’s expression was cold, but beneath that sharp gaze, something was stirring inside her. What drove her? Anger? Fear? Or perhaps shadows from her unfinished past?

"Milady, enough... we weren't meant to do this... Milady!!!" one of her subordinates shouted, trying to snap Isolde out of her focus on Sakti. The subordinate begged her to stop and move Sakti from his trapped position.

Isolde finally snapped back to reality, her sharp gaze shifting to a controlled coldness. With a decisive motion, she raised her hand and issued an order, "Children, he's no longer a threat. Secure him."

However, before they could approach Sakti, something unexpected happened. Isolde's subordinates suddenly screamed in hysteria, their fear gripping their souls.

"My gods! Why so suddenly?!"
"Run! Quickly!"
"Milady, watch out!" one of the subordinates lunged toward Isolde, trying to shield her from something that seemed to be approaching rapidly.

Isolde, still not understanding the situation, snapped, "What’s going on, guys?!"

The subordinate screamed, "Move, Milady! A giant wave is coming!"

Isolde appeared confused. How could that be? The river beneath them was so calm, there were no signs of turbulent currents.

But before she could process those words, a scream echoed through the air. "Aaaaaaaa!" The people around her began to collapse, one by one. They fell unconscious without warning, their faces etched with a terror so intense it was almost palpable.

Isolde’s mind raced as she tried to process the chilling scene before her. The air felt thick, the very atmosphere charged with an unnatural energy. Her gaze flicked from the collapsed bodies of her subordinates to the figure standing at the top of the waterfall, the source of that terrifying voice.

“I see it, Isolde. So clearly... that I want to execute you immediately,” the voice boomed, heavy with power and a threat she couldn’t ignore.

Isolde’s eyes locked onto the man atop the waterfall. His posture was strong, his long black hair flowing in the wind, exuding a chilling calmness that seemed to pierce the air. His indigo eyes burned with suppressed fury, cold yet seething. His skin was unnaturally pale, almost lifeless, and his cloak—a deep, ominous black—marked him as a member of the Dark Faction, a symbol of danger and domination.

In his hand, he held a limp body, the person hanging there like a discarded doll. As the moonlight illuminated his face, the identity of the unconscious figure became clear—it was Disha. He was completely incapacitated, utterly powerless, an unsettling sight that sent a wave of unease through Isolde.

Isolde stood frozen, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her breath came in labored gasps, and her lips quivered as if struggling to utter a name that felt impossible to say.

"Y-Yeon-Jin..." she whispered, her voice barely audible against the thunderous roar of the waterfall.

"You don’t deserve to be remembered by him," came the cold reply. The words were calm, but each one felt like a dagger piercing through the air. There was no shouting, no outburst of emotion—only rage cloaked in a terrifying control.

The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating, pulling Isolde back into memories she might have preferred to bury. 

Was he really the true Yeon-Jin? Or was it a mask worn by someone with different intentions?