Chapter 7 ( The last knight Volume 1 )

In the frozen north, where ice-capped mountains pierced the sky like frozen blades, the Great Frika Empire gleamed under a pale winter sun.

Inside the Frost Throne Hall, Emperor Yuma lounged on his throne of carved bone and iron, his sharp eyes reflecting the flickering light of braziers. A map of the southern lands lay spread before him, marked with fresh blood-red ink.

“So the war between Eastbank and Westbank has truly begun,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “How convenient.”

A woman knelt before him in perfect stillness. Tsuma’s long black hair spilled over her shoulders, and the massive katana strapped to her back looked almost too large for her slender frame  yet she carried it with effortless grace.

“Go south, Tsuma,” Emperor Yuma commanded softly. “Keep your eyes on both empires. Watch their battles, their leaders… their weaknesses. We will strike only when the time is ripe  when they have bled each other dry.”

Tsuma bowed lower, her voice calm and unwavering. “As you wish, my lord.”

She rose in one fluid motion and turned toward the great doors, the hilt of her katana catching the cold light. The emperor watched her leave with narrowed eyes, already tasting the future conquest on his tongue.

Far to the south, smoke still rose in thick black pillars from the ruined Eastbank outpost.

Kaine sat atop a broken barrel, the glowing Sword of Bloodshed resting across his knees. The air smelled of charred wood and death. 

He stared into the flames, trying to quiet the storm in his chest  the echo of Enid’s sobs still rang louder than any battle cry.

Then the ground began to tremble.

An army approached from the east  hundreds of soldiers marching in tight formation, spears glinting like a forest of steel under the darkening sky. 

At their head rode General Kimar on a massive warhorse, his armor freshly polished, that same cruel smirk twisting his face.

“Fool,” Kimar called out as he drew closer, voice dripping with mockery. “You should have stayed hidden in whatever hole you crawled into.”

Kaine rose slowly. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as the entire army formed a wide semicircle around him, spear tips pointed skyward like the fangs of a waiting beast.

“Coward,” Kaine whispered. The word was soft, yet it carried across the field with unnatural clarity, silencing every soldier. “You came with an army… against one man.”

Kimar threw his head back and laughed, the sound harsh and joyless. “Wars are not won by fair play, boy. Only fools believe in honor on the battlefield.”

Kaine closed his eyes for a single heartbeat. The Heavenly Vow burned hotter than ever inside him a raging fire that promised strength while quietly counting down the days until it claimed his life. Enid’s tear-streaked face flashed in his mind again.

Forgive me… he thought bitterly. I had to keep walking.

“Now… behold the power of the Awakened Dragon,” he murmured to himself.

The vow answered.

A blinding pillar of crimson light erupted from Kaine’s body, shooting toward the night sky and turning the battlefield bright as day for one breathtaking moment. 

Soldiers shielded their eyes and staggered backward. When the light finally faded, Kaine had changed.

A single, majestic dragon wing  scaled in deep obsidian and edged with glowing red had burst from his back, flexing powerfully. His eyes burned with golden fire, and the Sword of Bloodshed pulsed in his grip, 

longer, sharper, and thirsting for blood. Dark, vein-like markings ran across his skin, pulsing with raw power.

“This is the Ascended Dragon,” Kaine said, his voice deeper, resonating with otherworldly strength.

He began walking forward  slow, deliberate steps toward General Kimar. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his boots.

Kimar, to his credit, did not look afraid. Instead, a knowing grin spread across his face.

“I knew it,” he chuckled. “You really did make a Heavenly Vow… just like the rumors said.”

From behind him, seven figures stepped out of the ranks of soldiers. Each man moved with unnatural grace their eyes hollow, their bodies marked with similar glowing veins. 

They carried weapons that hummed with the same dark energy Kaine now wielded.

“These are my little insurance policy,” Kimar announced proudly. “Criminals, murderers, traitors  all forced to swear their own Heavenly Vows. Their only purpose now is to kill you. 

Seven lives in exchange for one.” He laughed again, louder this time. “Let’s see how long your precious ‘honor’ lasts against them, Westbank dog.”

Kaine’s dragon wing flared once, sending a gust of wind across the battlefield. He raised the Sword of Bloodshed, its edge singing with power.

“Then come,” he said coldly, golden eyes locked on Kimar. “I made my vow first. And I will finish it… even if I have to cut through all of you.”

The seven vow-bound killers charged as one, weapons raised, while the rest of the army held position, watching with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Kaine did not run. He walked straight into them, the single dragon wing casting a long, monstrous shadow across the burning outpost.

Deep in his chest, the Heavenly Vow tightened its grip a silent reminder that every swing of his blade brought him one step closer to death.

And still, Enid’s voice whispered in the back of his mind:

You’re just a coward…