The Breaking Point

The forest was silent. A heavy stillness hung in the air, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Hibiki sat cross-legged, eyes closed, his breathing steady. His body ached from training, but pain was nothing new.

The elf circled him like a predator. “You are strong,” she said. “But strength without resolve is meaningless.”

Hibiki exhaled, keeping his focus inward. He had heard these words before. But tonight, there was something different in her tone.

A test was coming.

The elf stopped in front of him. “Stand up.”

He obeyed, rising to his feet. In the dim firelight, she tossed him a small dagger. He caught it, the cold steel unfamiliar in his hand.

Then she pointed.

Hibiki turned, and his stomach dropped.

A man was tied to a tree, his clothes torn and face bruised. He was trembling, eyes wide with fear.

Hibiki’s grip on the dagger tightened. “Who is he?”

“A bandit,” the elf said simply. “He was tracking us. He would have killed us in our sleep.”

Hibiki swallowed. The blade suddenly felt heavier. “And you want me to..”

She nodded. “Kill him.”

The bandit thrashed against his bindings. “Please! I was just following orders!”

Hibiki’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. He had dreamed of this moment—the moment he would take a life, the first step toward vengeance. But now that it was here, something held him back.

His fingers trembled.

The elf’s voice was quiet but sharp. “Hesitation is weakness.”

Hibiki stared at the bandit. He was not a soldier. Not one of the men who had burned his village. He was just…a man.

Could he do it?

The elf sighed. “Fine.”

Before he could react, she moved. In a blink, she drew her own dagger and slit the bandit’s throat. A gurgled gasp escaped his lips before his body went limp.

Hibiki’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen death before. But not like this. Not up close.

The elf wiped her blade clean. “You are not ready.”

The words stung more than he expected.

She turned away, but her voice lingered in the cold night air. “Until you are willing to take a life, you will never take revenge.”

Hibiki could not sleep.

The bandit’s lifeless eyes haunted him. The weight of the dagger still clung to his fingers, even though it was no longer there.

Was he weak?

Would he have hesitated if it had been a soldier from that night? A noble from the academy? The king himself?

He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

No. This was not hesitation. This was something else.

Killing without reason—that was what the kingdom had done. If he became the same, then what was the point?

His revenge was not just about blood. It was about justice.

But even justice required sacrifice.

Hibiki sat up, the firelight casting shadows across his face.

The next time he held a blade, he would not falter.

The next time, he would be ready.