CHAPTER TEN – A MAN NAMED KAI

Ever since the banquet had ended, the air in Islez felt heavier — as though the night itself had grown wary. The shadows seemed to breathe, and even the silence was too strained, as if holding its breath. Rolling onto her side, she glared at the ceiling, begging the universe for a moment’s peace.

Exhaustion hung heavy on Rinda as she slammed her bedroom door shut, rattling the wooden frame. Her shoulders sagged with the weight of worry, frustration curling tight in her chest like a coiled spring. She collapsed onto the mattress, burying her face into the worn pillows she’d owned since childhood.

"Stupid Kazuo," Rinda muttered into the fabric, her voice muffled but no less venomous. The man had an uncanny knack for testing her patience. Sleep beckoned, but it remained elusive. Her limbs ached, her mind raced, and an insistent gnawing in her gut refused to quiet.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Ever since the banquet had ended, the air in Islez felt heavier — as though the night itself had grown wary. The shadows seemed to breathe, and even the silence was too strained, as if holding its breath. Rolling onto her side, she glared at the ceiling, begging the universe for a moment’s peace.

Then — movement.

A shadow flickered beneath the crack of her door. Rinda stiffened immediately. Her body moved without conscious thought, muscle memory honed by years of combat training. Her hand slipped beneath the headboard and retrieved two slender daggers from a hidden slot. Blades glinting, she crept towards the door, every sense sharpened to a knife’s edge.

Rinda flung it open with a fluid motion, ready to strike. but what met her eyes froze her blood.

A body collapsed at her feet. One of Shinji’s Kriegers. Three arrows jutted grotesquely from his back, and blood pooled thick and red beneath him, staining the wooden floor.

“What happened?” Rinda gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. She grabbed his limp hand, desperate to keep him tethered to life as his lips trembled.

“Ambush... His Lordship... forest... hurry…” he rasped before his body went still, fingers sliding from hers like sand through an hourglass.

For a heartbeat, Rinda knelt frozen, her brain refusing to accept what she’d just seen. Then, fury and purpose ignited behind her eyes. She closed the Krieger’s eyes gently and bolted from the room, her cloak snapping behind her like a whip as she vanished into the night.

***

Elsewhere in the Elder's Residence, Shinji and Mika, fresh from their sparring session, had only just begun to unwind. Their laughter was faint, the soft echo of a rare peace, when it was shattered by screams and the clash of steel when it was shattered by screams and the clash of steel.

Their laughter was faint. An echo of rare peace — when it was ripped apart by screams and the clash of steel. Bursting from their chambers, they found the Kriegers stationed at the exits slaughtered, their blood painting the stone floors.

Bursts of firelight illuminated chaos.

Bursting from their chambers, they found the Kriegers stationed at the exits slaughtered, their blood painting the stone floors in wide, merciless strokes.

“Get down!” Shinji barked as arrows shattered the windows.

Mika dove instinctively, narrowly avoiding a bolt that whistled past her head. The air filled with the metallic scent of smoke and death. The attackers had laid their plan perfectly — surrounding the estate, cutting off every escape.

“We need to reach the forest,” Shinji said, grabbing Mika’s wrist and pulling her into a sprint. Together they darted through collapsing corridors and pillars of flame, weaving between shadows and debris as the world around them burned.

As Shinji and Mika entered the forest’s embrace, an arrow scythed past Mika’s calf, grazing the skin just above her ankle so cleanly the pain arrived a heartbeat late. She stumbled with a sharp gasp.

“Look out!” Shinji pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist as a translucent barrier bloomed above them, shimmering with pale light.

Arrows rained down, pinging harmlessly against the glowing shield. From the shadows, a voice, deep and mocking, echoed through the trees.

"Impressive as always, My Lord." Ralph stepped forward, clad in darkened leather, his smirk wide and cold. Behind him, more rogue Kriegers emerged—surrounding the two like wolves encircling their prey.

Shinji moved to shield Mika, his gun drawn and violet eyes sharp.

"Lord Shinji Karou," Ralph drawled, bowing with theatrical grace. "Such a pleasure to welcome you home. And I see you’ve brought company. A Spirit girl, no less? Bold."

“Touch her,” Shinji said coolly, “and I’ll paint this forest with your entrails.”

Ralph’s laugh was low and venomous. “Ah, there’s the old Shinji. So noble. So boring. Tell me, does she know what you did?”

Mika’s breath hitched. “Shinji. What’s he talking about?”

Ralph’s grin widened. “Oh, you poor thing. You think he’s some hero? He killed a man he once called brother. Not in battle. In betrayal. Isn’t that right, my Lord? Remember what you did to Kai?”

Shinji didn’t flinch. He raised his pistol with icy precision. “Kai forgave me with his last breath. Your words hold no power over me.”

For a fleeting moment, something dark flickered across Ralph’s expression. Then he smirked again. “How touching. Still dressing your sins in poetry, I see. But tell me –”

He stepped aside, gesturing to the figure emerging behind him.

“Does he ever forgive you –truly?”

A man stepped into the firelight, face unreadable, eyes glinting cold. His sickle hung loosely at his side.

“Kazuo?” Mika whispered, disbelief cutting through her like ice. Her pulse quickened as silence fell over the clearing.

***

A guttural groan echoed through the clearing as a hulking figure in black sprawled on the ground. His mask, split in two, lay discarded beside him. Hatred burned in his eyes as he spat at his attacker in defiance.

Rinda, her movements as graceful as a swan's, glided closer. A small, gloved hand gripped the man's collar while the other held a dagger poised at his throat. Her usually bright eyes were steely and cold. Despite their size difference, Rinda had gained the upper hand.

“The easy way or the hard way,” she hissed, pressing the blade to his throat. The man’s breath hitched, eyes wide with terror.

“B-bitch… I’ll never–”

She shoved a herbal toxin into his mouth. He convulsed, choking as his veins flared blue.

“Where’s Kazuo?” she demanded, her voice trembling not from fear — but from fury.

The man choked, a horrifying blue blooming around the wound. Panic clawed at him as he realised the dagger was laced with poison.

He choked out the location before his eyes rolled back, lifeless.

Rinda’s knees gave way for a brief moment. Her heart cracked — but her resolve hardened. The betrayal stung worse than any blade.

Kazuo, the one she respected and cared for, had turned traitor. She knew, more than anyone, the tangled history between him and Shinji.

She raced through the treetops until she reached the clearing—just in time to see Shinji and Kazuo facing off.

They stood motionless, guns and sickles drawn. Once brothers-in-arms. Now poised for war.

For years, the people of Islez had spoken of their bond — their brotherhood. But the memory of one night had fractured it all.

A fifteen-year-old Kazuo, consumed by grief and rage, stormed into the White Wolf estate, his sole target being the young Shinji. The ensuing chaos left scars, forcing them apart for years before the wounds healed, allowing them to finally reconcile.

But now, the past seems to have risen from its grave.

Rinda had once begged Elder Shion for the truth behind that night. He’d only sighed and said, “Some bonds survive through pain. Others through lies.”

***

“What is the meaning of this?” Shinji’s calm voice carried an edge sharp enough to cut steel.

Kazuo’s smirk was thin and strained. His sickle gleamed as it hovered near Shinji’s throat.

“Don’t take it personally, Milord,” he said softly.

Ralph chuckled darkly. “Ah, this is beautiful! The prodigal dogs turning on each other! Go on, Kazuo—finish what you started years ago!”

Shinji’s expression didn’t change. “If you want my life,” he said, tossing his gun aside, “Then, take it. But let Mika go.”

Mika froze. “Shinji?!”

“I made a vow,” Shinji continued, his tone low but unwavering. “If I am to die, it will be by your hand, Kazuo. No one else’s.”

Kazuo’s eyes flickered — just once. A flash of something human. Something uncertain. "You think I care about your mission?"

Shinji caught it. “You and I both know Fulaina is at risk. If the Spirits cross over, humanity burns. I can die here – but she must live. That’s why she’s My Chosen Apprentice.”

Mika’s breath caught in her throat.

"That's an order," he commanded, his voice firm despite the danger they faced. "Promise me."

"Shinji..." Mika's voice trembled.

“Enough talk!” Ralph barked. “Do it, Kazuo! Kill him!”

Twin screams pierced the night — Mika's and Rinda's. They watched in horror as Kazuo raised his sickle, the blade a hair's breadth from severing Shinji's life.

Just then, a strangled cry erupted from one of Ralph's henchmen. His face contorted in agony, he fell to the ground, followed by another man. Thin needles bristled from their necks—Heiler darts, laced to incapacitate before they kill.

"What's going on here?" Ralph bellowed, grabbing one of his remaining men and examining his face, now a sickly green with froth bubbling from his lips. His pulse was faint, then stilled.

A figure blurred from the trees, landing gracefully amongst them. Before Ralph could react, another group of Kriegers, clad in white, surrounded them. One Krieger stepped forward, holding a golden scroll aloft. His voice boomed through the clearing.

"By order of the Grand Elders," one Krieger declared, "you are under arrest, Ralph. You've brought disgrace to the Kriegers. Now face your punishment!"

Now bound and defeated, Ralph could only stare at Kazuo, his face a mask of shock and disbelief.

Kazuo lowered his eyes, avoiding Shinji’s gaze.. The weapon in his hand felt strangely heavy. He replayed the scene in his mind — the tremor in his hands as he swung the sickle, then the forced stillness as its tip met Shinji's neck.

Even if it had all been an act to catch Ralph off guard, the raw emotion remained unmistakable; sweat clung to his shirt, and a tremor, small but relentless, kept sawing through his core. He finally lifted his head, meeting Shinji's blank stare.

"Making these lovely ladies worry about you... honestly! Didn't Suzumi teach you anything about making girls cry?" Instead of anger, Kazuo teased, shaking his head.

His crimson eyes flickered towards the thick tree branch where Rinda remained hidden.

Rinda had buried her face in her arm, unable to bear witness to a potential beheading. Her calves burned from holding herself still for too long; when relief hit, her knees simply failed. She landed with practised grace. Anger boiled over, and she lunged, a tiny fist aimed squarely at Kazuo's stomach.

"You! You jerk!" she shrieked, pummelling him with surprising force.

Kazuo yelped, throwing his arms up in defence. "Ow! It was an act! An act! I never meant to hurt him! Why would I want to kill anyone, anyway!?"

Rinda halted, her fists clenched. Sniffling, she turned away. "I don't know what to believe anymore... The Elders wouldn't tell me what happened between you two, but it was obviously something deep and personal. You obviously used to hate Shinji, enough to want to hurt him. I just..." Her voice trailed off, choked with unshed tears.

Kazuo placed a gentle hand on her head, pulling her into a comforting hug. "I wouldn't hurt him, Rinda. Not any more," he murmured. "Never again. You don't have to worry about anything, okay?"

Rinda blinked rapidly, her anger melting away in the warmth of his embrace. After a moment, she pushed him away playfully, earning a laugh from Kazuo.

Wiping her tears, she descended the tree, her heart light with relief, and approached Shinji.

***

The commotion had settled, Ralph and his men trudging back toward the village under the unyielding watch of the White Wolf Kriegers. Rain continued to fall, soft but steady, soaking the earth with a weight that mirrored the burden in everyone’s hearts.

The silence that followed was not one of peace — it was the heavy, smothering stillness of unresolved grief, the quiet aftermath of emotional carnage. The calm did not bring comfort; it brought only the sharp sting of something left unfinished.

Mika stood frozen, arms wrapped tightly around herself, eyes locked on the path Ralph had taken.

His damning words looped in her mind like a cursed mantra. Her gaze shifted to Shinji, silhouetted beneath the glow of the moon. The man who had trained her, protected her, believed in her — how could he have once taken the life of someone he loved?

She remembered asking Suzumi once about why someone as powerful as Shinji even needs a Chosen Apprentice in the first place. Suzumi’s reply had been cold and unyielding:

“Because of his position. Leading the clan means putting his life on the line. A powerful clan attracts enemies—both outside and within. You, Mika, as his Chosen Apprentice, are his last shield. Closer than any captain. Closer than any clan member. Closer than blood.”

That closeness now felt heavy. Like a crown of thorns.

Then, a roar shattered the contemplative quiet.

Ralph, despite his shackles and bruises, erupted into motion. With terrifying speed, he disarmed a distracted Krieger, then used the hilt of the stolen sword to knock down two others, killing them. He then turned to Kazuo, eyes ablaze.

“You traitor!” Ralph howled. “You betrayed me after everything?! After what he did to you! You forgot about Kai – your dead brother?!”

Kazuo didn’t flinch. His voice was low, calm, yet unyielding. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then WHY?! Why would you side with him?! With the bastard who murdered your brother?! You swore revenge! You carved it into stone! Burned it into your skin with rage!”

Around them, time seemed suspended. The only sound was the steady rhythm of falling rain.

Rinda stepped forward, fists clenched, but Kazuo gently raised a hand to stop her.

“Stay back,” Kazuo said quietly. He stepped into the clearing, his posture relaxed yet resolute.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Kai’s death,” Kazuo said, voice raised just enough to carry. “That hate kept me alive when grief nearly consumed me. But it also cost me years I’ll never get back. It ate at everything I was. Until one day, I realized... I couldn’t breathe anymore.”

He locked eyes with Ralph. “It wasn’t worth it. Kai wouldn’t want this. Not vengeance. Not blood. He wouldn’t want us tearing apart everything he tried to protect.”

Ralph’s voice cracked with rage. “You liar! You had no soul left the night he died! You swore to kill Shinji!”

“Shut up!” Kazuo’s voice rang like a war horn, silencing even the wind. "You're the only one who's clinging to the past, Ralph. I have moved on."

His voice softened. "I know what I said back then... about avenging Kai. But that was years ago, when I was raw with grief. Kai was my only family. I couldn't accept Shinji killing him. No matter what Suzumi or the Elders said, I refused the truth. But time heals. I've been in Kai's shoes, you see."

"What do you mean?" Rinda's curiosity now piqued.

He turned to Rinda. “You remember when I used to vanish for months? And I always returned with hefty amounts which I would never tell you? Well, you've always pestering me to get a job so the White Wolf Clan gave me one – they hired me to protect Shinji. I didn’t ask for pay. Just to watch. Just to understand. I wanted to know why Kai had to die.”

He turned back to Ralph, eyes steady, the chain at his wrist whispering as he tightened his grip. “I’ve put myself in Kai’s shoes. Took on the same dangerous missions. Risked my life the same way. I understood now. Kai didn’t die because Shinji had killed him. He’d died on duty and chosen to protect his ward. That was the legacy he’d left behind, and that's the legacy I will carry on.”

From behind, Shinji stood immobile, barely breathing. His eyes were unreadable. All these years he’d believed Kazuo harboured only loathing beneath his jokes and smiles. But now, hearing this, something shifted inside him — something ancient and tender that had long been buried.

Mika stepped up beside him, reaching for his hand. Her touch was light but grounding.

His lips pressed into a firm line. His fingers tightened around hers.

***

The wind picked up. Trees swayed like mourners. The rain thickened, falling harder. The forest held its breath.

Ralph remained silent, face obscured by a hand. Neither man dared to move. Kazuo gripped his chained sickle tightly, his gaze fixed on the older man. Though the downpour made it difficult, he knew he couldn't blink for fear of missing a move.

A sly Death Adder — that was Ralph’s name among their own.

A sound shattered the tense silence — soft chuckles that morphed into chilling laughter.

"Time after time, you manage to fool these fools. Evading your responsibility," Ralph mocked. "But not this time!" In a blink, he vanished.

"Watch out!" Rinda screamed, lunging forward in defence. "To your left, Kazuo!"

Reacting instantly, Kazuo swung his weapon, meeting a flying dagger head-on. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his abdomen, followed by a brutal kick to the chest that sent him sprawling.

"Kazuo!" Mika yelled, rushing to his side but halting abruptly.

Ralph appeared a few metres from Shinji, and he lunged towards him when suddenly, he shifted his target — grabbed Mika instead. Coiling his arm around her waist like a serpent constricting its prey.

"If I can't have you," Ralph roared, "then I'll take her instead!"

He dragged her toward a nearby cliff edge.

"Mika!" Shinji's voice boomed as he sprinted after them. Three perfectly aimed shots rang out, two or three hitting Ralph's leg, slowing him down.

Mika struggled against his iron grip, her blades lost on the ground.

Five.

With a final, desperate yell, she slammed her elbow into the back of Ralph's head.

Four.

It worked. Ralph's grip faltered, eyes rolling back as he lost consciousness.

Three.

Mika was falling. She fought against gravity, clawing at the air.

Two.

Just as she felt the ground rushing towards her, a metallic clang echoed in her ears. A chained weapon, Kazuo's sickle, wrapped around her wrist, arresting her fall.

One.

By the time Kazuo pulled her to safety, the rain had stopped. Mika looked at him with overflowing gratitude. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, clinging tightly.

"Kazuo... Thank you!"

Kazuo chuckled, hugging her back tightly. A sigh escaping his lips. "“Give me a warning next time you fall,” he murmured, trying for flippant and missing by an inch; “I catch better on my left."

He glanced down at Ralph's lifeless body floating in the river and bit his lip.

He hadn't liked the man, but Ralph had been the one to first show him how to wield a chained sickle. Back then, it had been more than just a weapon — it had been a bond, a discipline that stitched together the frayed edges of their grief.

In the past, those shared hours of training were filled with gruff shouts and bruised egos, but they had also given Kazuo a purpose when he’d been drowning in loss. The irony was cruel; the very skill Ralph had helped him master was now what had saved Mika’s life and sealed the older man’s fate.

***

The first rays of dawn painted the sky a hopeful orange as Mika and her companions finally limped back into Islez. Word of Ralph's betrayal—his attempted assassination of the young White Wolf Lord and his chosen Apprentice, culminating in his own demise—had spread like wildfire throughout the village, stirring a storm of whispers, pointed stares, and wild speculation.

Even before they reached the village gates, a sea of anxious villagers awaited them. Concern and curiosity rippled through the crowd like wind through leaves, the chorus of murmurs growing louder with every step they took. Shinji, for once, felt the crushing weight of nobility settle squarely on his shoulders. Though usually poised, he could not summon the strength to offer comfort or maintain the façade of composure. Groaning softly, he kept his head low and trudged forward, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

To his right, Mika moved with quiet resolve, her voice calm and steady as she politely asked the villagers to part. Despite the fatigue dragging at her limbs, she spoke with the clarity of someone who had witnessed too much and could afford no delay. On Shinji's left, Rinda was far less patient. Her voice rang out like a battle horn, barking crisp orders that sent startled villagers scrambling aside. Her tone brooked no argument.

Moments later, two squads of White Wolf Kriegers cut through the crowd with sharp efficiency. Alerted in advance, they quickly formed a protective line around the party and guided them through the throng, ensuring the battered group reached the Elder’s Residence unimpeded.

Awaiting them were the three Grand Elders, lined up beneath the ceremonial arch of the residence. Their expressions were a mixture of stern duty and quiet sorrow, etched with age and wisdom. Elder Dauz, the eldest among them with his flowing white beard and penetrating gaze, took one step forward as Kazuo approached.

Despite the weariness in his bones, Kazuo dropped to one knee and bowed low.

"Elders," he began, voice hoarse with exhaustion, "I—"

Elder Dauz raised a hand gently. "Your report can wait, child. Now is not the time for debriefs or confessions."

Turning his gaze toward Shinji, he offered a respectful nod. "Milord, I have already informed the Clan Councils of the incident. The scheduled meeting has been postponed until you and your companions have recovered."

Shinji gave a slight, grateful bow of his head. "Thank you. I offer my sincerest apologies for the trouble this has caused."

"No apologies are necessary," Dauz replied softly. "It is we who owe you an apology. This betrayal—this violence—should never have darkened our gates. Let us escort you now to your quarters. Rest is the greatest healer."

Under the Elders’ guidance, the party finally crossed the threshold of safety. The corridors of the residence, quiet and warm with lamplight, welcomed them like an embrace.

Mika walked silently, her mind replaying Ralph’s parting words. He killed a man closest to his own heart. The accusation echoed like a curse. She couldn't reconcile it with the Shinji she knew—the patient mentor, the silent protector, the man who had taken an arrow for her and stood unshaken amidst chaos. Could such a man truly carry such a dark past?

A few paces ahead, Rinda cast sidelong glances at Kazuo. The tangle of emotions in her chest made it hard to breathe. Pain. Confusion. Relief. Anger. All swirling together like a storm. She didn’t speak, but her silence was not rejection—it was the beginning of reflection. Kazuo’s truths had come out in pieces, fragile but real, and now she had to decide what to do with them.

Kazuo, for his part, said nothing. His steps were steady, but his heart thudded with uncertainty. His chest still ached from Ralph’s blow. His soul ached more.

Shinji walked with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And yet, as they passed the hall that led to their living quarters, he paused.

His violet eyes turned back to Mika.

She met his gaze. In that shared look—fleeting but powerful—Mika saw not a killer, not a clan leader, but a man. A man scarred by duty. A man who had bled and endured, not because he sought glory, but because he had no choice.

Mika saw the flicker of something fierce and enduring in him. Not just pain. Not just guilt. But sheer determination.

He would not fall. Not while there was still a mission left to complete. Without a word, Mika matched his stride, the warmth of his earlier grip still ghosting across her knuckles like a vow