I'm not your damn puppet

Before I could reach Helena, darkness engulfed everything.

Not the natural darkness of night, this was absolute. A void that swallowed light, sound, movement. The battle noise cut off mid-scream. The flames froze mid-flicker. Everything just... stopped.

I spun around, trying to get my bearings. "What the—"

Then suddenly a figure materialized in front of me.

It was nothing but pure shadow with purple light pulsing where eyes should be. 

"Kaito Kurokawa." The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, resonant and cold. "This is the consequence of your actions."

My eyes went wide. "What are you talking about?"

"Look around you." The shadow gestured at the frozen carnage surrounding us. "All of this death. All of this suffering. It exists because of choices you made."

I felt something cold settle in my stomach. "I didn't cause this, that person did—"

"Did he?" The purple lights where its eyes should be seemed to bore into me. 

"You rejected to help him stop the madness. And now look what's happened."

The shadow drifted closer. "Gerald is dead because you hesitated. Jay threw himself into battle because you weren't there to help him. Helena is destroying herself with grief because you couldn't protect her friend."

"That's not—"

"How many more will die tonight, Kaito? How many corpses will line these streets because you made the wrong choice? Because you were too proud, too stubborn to accept help when it was offered?"

The purple eyes pulsed brighter. "You could have prevented all of this. One word. One simple yes, and this massacre never happens. But you chose your pride over their lives."

My jaw clenched. 

"You're trying to guilt me into joining him," I said, forcing my voice to stay level. "That's what this is."

The shadow tilted its head. "I'm simply showing you the truth. Every person who dies tonight, their blood is on your hands. You had a choice, and you chose wrong. Now live with it."

"You're just a murderer," I snarled, blood still on my lips. "Stop guilt-trapping me. You and your damn Architect caused this, not me. Turn everything back to normal. NOW."

The shadow froze, its voice. “So this is your answer?”

Before I could speak—

CRACK!

Pain exploded in my gut. Air left my lungs in a wet cough, blood spraying my lips. My vision blurred, stomach convulsing as I folded over the invisible weight of the blow.

The shadow didn't give me time to recover. Another blow caught my ribs, then my jaw. I tried to fight back, activating [Quick Strike], but my blade passed through smoke without resistance while its attacks landed with devastating force.

WHAM!

My back hit the frozen ground. It loomed over me, its purple eyes burning with cold satisfaction.

I rolled, gasping, tried to [Dash] but it was faster. 

It caught me mid-movement and drove its knee into my chest.

Blood poured from my mouth, my nose, cuts opening across my face and arms. I wasn't strong enough. Not alone. Not against this.

The shadow’s hand closed around my throat, lifting me off the ground. 

“Pathetic,” it whispered. “You can’t even protect yourself. And you dare defy us?”

Its fist drew back for a finishing blow, energy gathering around it that would turn my skull to paste.

But before its fist could connect me, everything went black again.

But this time, different. Warmer somehow.

Then a figure hovered in front of me in this new darkness.

'Thanaia?'

Then she whispered something.

"Kor'vash et numina, vinculum solvere..."

And the darkness shattered like glass.

Reality snapped back into motion. The shadow's fist was still descending toward my head.

But then, clawed hand shot out and caught its wrist mid-air.

CRACK!

A savage headbutt smashed into the shadow’s face, sending it staggering backward.

Wrath stood between us, his berserker form blazing with renewed energy. 

The seal was broken.

"You're dead," He snarled, and launched himself at the shadowy figure with all the violence he'd been denied.

Then suddenly, my status window popped in front of me.

New Skills Unlocked:

[Void Strike]
Attack infused with anti-shadow properties. Deals 200% damage to ethereal/shadow entities. Bypasses intangibility.
Cost: 50 MP | Cooldown: 10 seconds

[Spirit Armor]
Temporary barrier that reduces damage from non-physical attacks by 60%. Lasts 30 seconds.
Cost: 80 MP | Cooldown: 60 seconds

I looked up at the endless sky, thinking maybe she was still watching.

 "Thanks, Thanaia."

Then I activated [Spirit Armor], feeling an invisible barrier snap into place around my body. My jaw clenched as I gripped my blade tighter.

"But remember this... I'm not your puppet."

[Dash!]

I blurred forward, closing the distance to where Wrath was already engaging the shadow. My blade glowed with strange energy as I activated the new skill.

[Void Strike!]

My sword connected with the shadow's form, and this time it didn't pass through. The blade bit deep, tearing through the smoky substance like it was solid flesh. 

The shadow let out a sound between a hiss and a scream.

Wrath attacked from the other side, his berserker claws finding the gaps now that my strike had disrupted whatever protection the shadow had been using.

[Savage Rend!]

His claws tore chunks from the shadow's body. Purple light flickered and sputtered where he struck.

The shadow tried to counter, its fist aimed at my head, but [Spirit Armor] absorbed most of the impact. I felt the hit, but it didn't send me flying like before.

Wrath and I moved in sync.

 When I struck high, he went low. When he created an opening, I exploited it. We pressed the attack relentlessly, giving the shadow no time to recover or escape.

[Void Strike!]

Another chunk of the shadow's form disintegrated under my blade.

"You... dare..." the shadow hissed, its voice losing coherence as we tore it apart.

"Yeah," I said coldly. "I dare."

Wrath grabbed what passed for the shadow's throat and held it in place. His bloodshot eyes met mine.

The shadow's form flickered and destabilized as we tore through it, purple light bleeding out like wounds.

"You... will pay..." it hissed, its voice fragmenting. "For what you've done... he will make you... suffer..."

But I drove my blade through its core one final time.

[Void Strike!]

The shadow exploded into wisps of darkness that dissipated into nothing. The purple eyes flickered once, then died completely.

WHOOSH!

Reality snapped back like a released bowstring. The battle sounds crashed over me, screams, roars, the clash of metal, buildings collapsing. Time had resumed, and the chaos was worse than before.

Helena was still mid-cast, that devastating spell building around her staff. I sprinted toward her and grabbed her shoulders, shaking hard.

"Helena! STOP!"

She blinked, tears still streaming down her face. For a moment, I thought she'd blast me too. Then her eyes focused, really seeing me for the first time.

"Gerald..." she sobbed, her voice breaking. "He's..."

"I know." My grip tightened. "But you'll kill innocent people if you cast that spell here. Is that what he'd want?"

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, then nodded. The spell dissipated, though her hands were still shaking. She wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand.

"Fuck," she whispered. Then louder, "Fuck!"

She turned back toward the monsters, her staff rising again. This time her casting was controlled, precise. Still deadly, but no longer reckless.

I gripped my blade and looked at Wrath. His berserker form was still active, energy at full capacity.

We turned toward the horde together. The monsters were still coming, still overwhelming the town's defenders. But something had changed in the pattern of their attacks.

With the shadow destroyed, the horde's coordination shattered immediately. The monsters stopped their organized push and devolved into confused, scattered groups attacking whatever was closest.

Wrath and I tore through them without mercy. 

My blade found throats and hearts while Wrath's berserker claws ripped through flesh and bone. We moved like a single weapon, carving a path through the chaos.

[DING!] [DING!]

[Level Up!] [Level Up!]

Soon, more adventurers began arriving, reinforcements from other parts of the city. I spotted A-rank parties cutting through clusters of monsters with devastating efficiency. B-rank teams coordinated sweeps through side streets, clearing out stragglers.

The tide was turning. Slowly, brutally, but turning.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the smoke-filled sky in shades of red and orange, the sounds of battle began to fade. 

Fewer roars. Fewer screams. More silence followed by isolated clashes.

I drove my blade through the last wolf I could see, watched it collapse, and realized I couldn't hear any more monsters nearby.

[Ding!]

[Level Up!]

"Clear!" someone shouted from down the street.

"Eastern district secure!"

"No more contacts in the square!"

The last monster - a wounded goblin trying to flee - was cut down by an A-rank warrior's casual sword strike.

Then... quiet.

I stood in the middle of what used to be a market square, breathing hard, covered in blood that wasn't all mine. The destruction stretched in every direction.

Buildings reduced to rubble. Entire streets crushed under collapsed structures. Bodies everywhere, monsters mixed with civilians mixed with adventurers who'd fought to the last. The fountain that had been the square's centerpiece was cracked and dry, filled with ash instead of water.

Smoke rose from dozens of fires still burning throughout the city. 

Civilians huddled in groups wherever they'd found shelter. Some were crying openly, clutching children or what remained of their families. 

Others just stared at nothing, shock written across their faces. An elderly woman rocked back and forth, covered in dust, muttering something I couldn't make out.

Higher-ranked adventurers were already taking charge. 

An A-rank team organizing search and rescue operations, pulling survivors from collapsed buildings. Another group was creating firebreaks to stop the flames from spreading further.

Healers moved between the wounded, their glowing hands working overtime. There weren't enough of them. There would never be enough.

Rei materialized beside me, its translucent form dim with exhaustion. "We survived."

"Yeah," I said quietly, looking at the destruction around us. "We survived."

But survival felt like a hollow victory when I counted the cost paid for it.

Wrath's berserker form faded, his energy finally depleted. He sat down on a chunk of rubble without a word, bloodshot eyes tracking the cleanup efforts with unreadable expression.

The sun continued its descent, and Ironhold burned.

I moved through the rubble-strewn square toward where Gerald's body lay. My boots crunched on broken glass and stone, each step feeling heavier than the last.

He was still there, exactly where he'd fallen. Eyes open, staring at nothing. Blood had pooled beneath him, already drying in the evening air.

I crouched down beside him and reached out, closing his eyes with my fingers. 

It felt inadequate, some final gesture that meant nothing to the dead but everything to those still living.

Then footsteps approached from behind. And Helena sank down beside me, her movements mechanical, like a puppet with cut strings. She stared at Gerald's face for a long moment.

"He was... he was supposed to get married next spring," she said quietly, her voice cracking. "To a girl from his hometown. He showed me the ring last week. Kept asking if it was nice enough."

Tears threatened to spill, her breath hitching. "I told him it was perfect. That she'd love it. And now..."

Her composure finally broke. The tears came, and she tried to muffle the sobs with her hand, but they tore out of her anyway.

Something in my chest ached watching her fall apart. I didn't think, just acted, pulling her into my arms and letting her sob against my shoulder.

She clung to me like I was the only solid thing left in a world that had turned to smoke and ash. 

Her whole body shook with grief she'd been holding back since the moment Gerald fell.

I didn't say anything. What could I say? That it would be okay? It wouldn't. That time would heal it? Maybe, but not enough. So I just held her and let her cry.

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting Ironhold in shadow, the shadow creature's warning echoed through my mind.

'You will pay for what you've done.'

My jaw clenched, my grip on Helena tightening slightly.

'No,' I thought coldly. 'I'll make sure you pay for what you've done.'

The grief, the anger, the exhaustion, it all crystallized into something harder, sharper. 

A promise I intended to keep.

Whatever came next, I'd be ready.

And I'd make them all regret the day they decided I was worth targeting.

END OF VOLUME 1