The dense forest echoed with the sounds of the young boy's frantic footsteps. His torn shirt flapped as he ran, the fabric clinging to his bruised, sweat-soaked skin. His trousers were in tatters, barely holding together, and his bare feet pounded against the forest floor, kicking up dirt and leaves. His hair was a wild mess, tangled with sticks and caked in mud, but he paid it no mind as he pushed forward, desperation fueling his every step.
A wolf's howl pierced the air, distant yet too close for comfort. The boy's heart leaped into his throat, and he skidded to a halt, diving into the nearest bushes. He crouched low, every muscle tensed, his eyes darting left and right, searching for any sign of movement. His breath came in ragged gasps as he strained to listen, his pulse pounding in his ears.
But the forest around him remained eerily still, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and his own labored breathing. He knew he couldn't remain hidden for long; the danger was closing in, and he had to keep moving. With a quick, shaky breath, he sprang to his feet and took off again, his small legs pumping furiously.
He leaped over a fallen log, the sharp crack of breaking sticks beneath his feet echoing through the trees. His soles stung as they struck rocks and jagged roots, but he didn't slow down. The sense of pursuit was growing stronger, a cold dread gnawing at the edges of his mind.
Bursting through a thick patch of bushes, the boy found himself in a small, abandoned campsite. The fire pit in the center had long gone cold, a few embers faintly glowing amidst the ashes. A worn, battered bag lay carelessly upon the ground nearby, and scattered around the fire were apple cores, discarded with little care.
He hesitated, his breath hitching as he surveyed the scene. With trembling hands, he brushed away the dirt from his face and hair, attempting to make himself presentable, though his efforts were in vain. He was filthy, exhausted, and frightened, and it showed in every line of his small, trembling frame.
Releasing a deep sigh, he noticed a figure lying beneath a nearby apple tree. A large, muscular man, covered in a thick black cloak, was either asleep or completely indifferent to the boy's sudden arrival. The man's chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his face obscured by the shadows of his hood.
The boy stared at the man, uncertain whether to approach or flee. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs were heavy with fatigue, his body aching from the relentless chase. He needed help, or at the very least, a place to rest, if only for a moment.
The boy took a hesitant step closer, his small frame trembling as he neared the man lying beneath the apple tree. As he drew nearer, the man shifted slightly, turning to reveal his face. It was Akira, still lying with one hand supporting his head, his expression calm and unreadable. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, locked onto the boy with a gaze that felt as heavy as the forest itself.
"Why are you here?" Akira asked, his voice deep and commanding, sending a shiver down the boy's spine.
Startled by the intensity of the man's voice, the boy's hands began to shake even more. He struggled to find his words, finally stammering out, "There was a man... with a sword and a crossbow... he was chasing me. And the wolves - they were howling. I was so frightened, so I ran... I ran until I ended up here."
Akira's expression remained impassive as he cut the boy off, his tone laced with impatience. "Cease this nonsense already. I know who you are."
The boy's eyes widened in shock, his fear momentarily replaced by confusion. "You know me? But... How do you know me?"
Akira sighed, his gaze narrowing. "Annoying... I can't sense any magic emanating from you..."
The boy's face twisted with a mixture of fear and desperation. "I am cursed!" he cried, his voice breaking as he interrupted Akira. "My mother told me that when I was a newborn, I was sick. She took me to a local retired battle mage, hoping she could heal me with magic. But it didn't work. The mage told her I was cursed with no magic, like you said just now. I'm a ghost in the world of magic. I always wanted to follow in her footsteps, to be a battle mage like she was, but I can't even use a single spell… not even the weakest, easiest one!" His voice cracked as he covered his face with his hands, sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Akira observed the boy with a cold, unblinking stare. "I said… cease it already," he repeated, his tone growing colder. "And tell me why you're really here."
The boy, face flushed with tears staining his cheeks, regarded Akira, his expression a mixture of despair and confusion. But before he could respond, Akira's eyes narrowed further, his voice dripping with suspicion. "I might believe your story about being a magicless child, but a weightless one? That's pure fantasy."
Suddenly, the boy's sobs stopped, replaced by an eerie silence. His lips curled into a twisted smile, and a low, unsettling laugh bubbled up from his throat. Akira's eyes sharpened as he observed the transformation. A thick, black mist began to seep from the boy's ears, nose, mouth, and eyes, swirling around his small frame like a living shadow. The mist thickened, enveloping the boy's entire body until he was completely obscured.
From within the dark cloud, the boy's form began to shift and change. The laughter grew deeper, more menacing, echoing through the stillness of the forest. When the mist finally dissipated, the boy was gone, replaced by a towering demon. The creature was clad in a slim black suit, knives strapped to its belt, and its face was concealed by a white, smiling mask that exuded a sinister aura.
The demon chuckled, holding his head as if realizing a foolish mistake. "My apologies! I totally forgot about that."
Akira's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Then answer me… why are you here?"
The demon leaned back against the tree, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "To watch over you, isn't it obvious?" he said, seating himself beside Akira. His tone was casual, almost mocking.
Akira didn't seem amused. "You're better suited to retrieve this ring. With your abilities, it'd be as easy as this," he snapped his fingers, the sound sharp in the quiet forest.
The demon tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "You're missing one crucial point here… It's not my responsibility to retrieve it, but yours."
Akira released a long sigh, then rolled onto his back, staring upward at the blue sky through the gaps in the apple tree's branches. The sunlight filtered through, casting dappled patterns upon his face, but the serenity of the scene did little to soothe him.
"You can take a nap," the demon suggested, his voice suddenly soft and almost kind. "I'll wake you at dusk."
Without a word, Akira pulled his black cloak over his face, blocking out the light. In moments, he was deep in slumber, his breathing steady and calm.
While Akira slept, the demon remained by his side, relishing the stillness of the forest. The quiet was a rare luxury, one he rarely experienced in his line of work. But his peace was soon interrupted by the familiar black mist he often summoned, swirling into existence beside him.
From the mist emerged a figure similar to his own, though with distinct differences. She wore the same black suit, but hers was adorned with crimson lines and intricate ornaments. Knives hung from her belt, though they were of a different make - sleeker, more refined. Her mask, unlike his, resembled a female smile, with softer curves that hinted at the features beneath. Her figure was feminine, with defined breasts and wider hips, and she was shorter in height.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
The demon didn't move, his posture still relaxed. "I'm looking after a boy," he replied nonchalantly. "The question is, why are you here?"
"I need your assistance," she said, her tone more urgent than his. "Others are either occupied or out of contact."
"This is most unfortunate," he mused, his voice betraying no emotion. "Have you consulted with - "
"Let's not discuss that here," she interrupted sharply, her eyes flicking toward the sleeping Akira. "When you're finished, meet me in Caredia."
The demon sighed, a hint of reluctance in his voice. "It'll take me until midnight, perhaps longer."
She gave a curt nod, her form dissolving back into the black mist that had summoned her. In an instant, she was gone, leaving the demon alone once more, the forest returning to its previous stillness.
Crouched low and hidden within the dense underbrush, Akira's sharp eyes scanned the formidable stone walls of Eagle Fort. The fortress stood imposingly upon a hill, its gray, weathered stone offering no visible weaknesses. The patrols atop the walls were erratic - sometimes a lone soldier, other times pairs, and occasionally, the walls were left unguarded entirely. Akira's gaze flicked from tower to tower, waiting for that brief moment when the sentries would all be looking away.
The hill leading up to the fort was barren, with no trees or bushes to provide cover. But Akira wasn't concerned. He knew how to use the terrain to his advantage. When the perfect moment arrived - a lull in the guards' attention - he sprang into action. With a swift surge of earth magic, Akira dashed to the base of the wall, moving so quickly that he seemed to meld with the shadows. Pressing his body against the cold stone, he pulled his hood down low, blending into the darkness.
His hand touched the rough surface of the wall, and with his magic, he could sense the faint vibrations caused by the soldiers' footsteps above. It was as if the wall itself was communicating to him, revealing where each guard stood, how many there were, and whether they were walking or standing still.
Recalling his experience in Kar-Ah, Akira began his ascent. Small sections of the stone wall pushed out slightly, forming makeshift handholds that he used to climb. As he passed each stone, it seamlessly returned to its original position, leaving no trace of his passage.
Reaching the summit, he paused, waiting for the right moment. When the guards turned their backs, Akira vaulted over the battlements, dashing silently along the wall-walk. In one fluid motion, he leaped again, clearing the inner battlements and landing silently in the fort's inner ward, his presence undetected.
He landed behind a building partially sunk into the ground, where he quickly took cover. Akira sensed the vibrations of approaching footsteps - heavy and deliberate. A torch's light flickered nearby, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. Without hesitation, Akira employed his earth magic to excavate a shallow hole beneath him, slipping underground just as the guard rounded the corner.
Beneath the earth, he tunneled his way toward the building, moving through the soil like a shadow. His fingers brushed against the cold, clay-coated stone of the structure's foundation. Concentrating, he sensed the interior of the building. There was only one person inside, sitting still upon the floor.
Akira suspected what he would discover, and with a single, precise movement of his index finger, he created a small hole in the wall to peer through. His suspicions were confirmed: this was the fort's prison. Inside, the cells were lined with iron bars, the floors strewn with straw, and water buckets placed at intervals. Heavy iron doors marked the entrance.
Akira enlarged the hole, just big enough to squeeze through, and slipped inside, his movements as fluid as water. Straightening up, his joints cracked softly, a reminder of the tension held within his body. His attention was drawn to a solitary figure, shackled and bound in one of the cells.
The prisoner sat with his legs crossed, heavy iron shackles weighing down his wrists and ankles. His head was encased in a thick, iron-plated helmet that covered his eyes completely, leaving only a small slit for breathing. Multiple chains, more than six in total, anchored him to the ground, rendering him immobile.
Akira approached the cell, crouching to meet the prisoner's hidden gaze. "I could never have expected to encounter you here," he said, his voice low and laced with curiosity.
The prisoner remained silent, unmoving.
Akira continued, his tone tinged with admiration. "It's impressive that someone managed to capture you and place you in such a miserable state."
The prisoner drew a deep breath, a heavy, rasping sound that echoed within his iron confines.
Akira's gaze hardened, but there was a trace of a smirk upon his lips. "I don't mind setting you free," he offered. "But as I know you, you wouldn't accept freedom from anyone but yourself."
A murmur came from within the iron helmet, but it was unintelligible, more a growl than words.
Akira rose to his feet, the smirk fading into a neutral expression. "See you then, Koga. Perhaps this time, you won't end up hanging from a noose."
Without another word, Akira departed the prison, sealing the hole he had created as he exited. The walls closed up behind him, leaving no sign of his intrusion. Koga remained as he was, bound and silent, his fate left to the whims of those who held him captive - or perhaps to his own inevitable escape.
The sound of heavy iron boots echoed down the stone corridor as a soldier, balancing a tray with a bottle of wine and two cups, made his way to the fort's main building. He paused before a large wooden door, nudging it open with his shoulder and entering the captain's office.
Inside, the captain, a grizzled man with a scarred face, was seated behind his cluttered desk, engaged in conversation with a guest - a man clad in black armor, with a finely carved sword sheathed at his side and a large plated shield resting against the wall. The guest, with blue eyes and long blonde hair, exuded an aura of quiet power.
The soldier approached and placed the tray upon the desk. The captain nodded in thanks and poured the wine, handing a cup to his guest.
"How long has it been since we last met, my friend?" the captain asked, raising his cup.
"During the second war, wasn't it?" the guest replied, accepting the drink. They toasted and downed the wine in one gulp.
"We fought side by side during the Haven invasion," the captain reminisced. "To this day, I remember cutting down those dogs together."
"War never changes," the guest, whom the captain had addressed as Ash, replied with a faint smile.
The captain leaned in, curiosity tingeing his voice. "So, Ash, where have you been all this time? What did you do?"
"When the wars ended, I took my men to the Tundra, seeking wealth and some excitement," Ash replied with a nonchalant shrug.
The captain pounded the desk with his fist, a hint of envy in his voice. "I envy you, Ash. You've had adventures, gold, and excitement. Meanwhile, all I've acquired are some filthy coins, a wife who's probably sleeping with someone else right now, and a son as foolish as his mother. You were correct back then - I should've joined you and the Blackfrost mercenaries."
Ash chuckled, his laughter filling the chamber. "You've got something I don't: a home and a steady occupation. Remain here; the time for adventures has passed. Now, you need to focus upon something else."
The captain grinned but couldn't resist asking, "And you? Ever considered settling down?"
Ash laughed again, louder this time. "I hear the princess is still available! But seriously, a quiet life isn't for me. I was born for battle, and that's where I'll perish."
A soldier entered the chamber, announcing his presence with the sharp sound of his boots against the stone floor. He approached the captain, who was seated at his desk with Ash, the guest in black armor.
"What about the prisoner, sir? Should we transport him now?" the soldier asked.
"A prisoner?" Ash inquired, his interest piqued.
The captain waved a hand dismissively. "Leave him be for now. We'll transport him tomorrow. Dismissed."
The soldier nodded and exited, the heavy door closing with a solid thud.
Ash leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his cup. "You caught a prisoner? Some common thug?"
"He's much more than that, but I really shouldn't discuss it," the captain replied, a hint of secrecy in his voice.
"Come now," Ash coaxed, spreading his arms as if to embrace his old friend. "We'll converse until dawn, with many bottles of wine. Do you truly think I'd remember any of this, let alone betray you?"
The captain chuckled and poured more wine into their cups. "His name is Koga, if you've heard of him. He's a Force user, and as they say, extremely dangerous."
"Koga? Force?" Ash shook his head. "Never heard of him."
"A criminal. You were in the Tundra, so you wouldn't know him. Around here, though, he's quite notorious. But even we couldn't apprehend him."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "If you didn't, then who did?"
"A man in black armor, much like yours."
"Someone's copying my style?" Ash grinned, but his tone was serious. "You need to tell me who he is!"
"You don't want to cross paths with this one. I didn't see him myself, but the men say he was The Black Knight."
Ash's expression grew more intense. "I wonder if he's truly such an admirer of mine, not only is he a mercenary like me, but wearing black armor as well."
The captain leaned back in his chair, clearly savoring the tale. "With all due respect, I think you might be his admirer."
Ash chuckled. "Jests aside, I wonder what Midori's crown jewel was doing here."
"No one knows for certain," the captain said, lowering his voice. "But he brought Koga in, all bound and defeated. Imagine what their fight must have been like!"
"Can we see him then?" Ash asked, eager.
"No, no," the captain protested, leaning further back, his reluctance clear.
Ash shrugged, accepting the answer. "I understand. You're a responsible man, and I won't press. But I wish I could see him. I don't know what this Force of his is, but if you say he's dangerous, I believe you."
Finishing the last of his wine, Ash suddenly remembered something. "I almost forgot," he said, and called for one of his mercenaries. A young boy entered, bowing respectfully before receiving a whispered command from Ash. The boy departed and returned shortly after, handing Ash a small purse before departing once more.
Curious, the captain leaned forward as Ash placed the purse upon the desk. From it, Ash produced a black ring adorned with golden ornaments. The jewel at its center shimmered, making the ring appear extraordinarily valuable.
"Accept this," Ash said, offering the ring to the captain. "A small token of my gratitude."
The captain hesitated. "I can't accept this. It's worth a fortune, anyone can perceive that."
Ash laughed, tapping the ring against the desk a few times. "This trinket? Certainly, it holds some value, but it's not as priceless as you think. Consider it payment for allowing my group to remain the night."
Reluctantly, the captain accepted the ring and examined it closely. "Try it on," Ash suggested.
As the captain slipped the ring onto his finger, his hand suddenly struck the desk, his eyes glazing over as if he'd momentarily lost consciousness. But he remained standing, his gaze fixed upon Ash.
"Sir, don't grow too comfortable with it," Ash advised, his tone suddenly more submissive.
The captain's eyes turned a deep red, and he regarded the chamber around him, disoriented, as if he had forgotten where he was.
"And you?" the captain asked, his voice now cold and commanding.
"I'm Ash Blackfrost," Ash replied, bowing his head. "I'm the one who discovered this ring and returned it to you."
The captain rose, towering over Ash, who kept his head lowered. "It's said that a powerful person is imprisoned here. Someone more suitable as a vessel for your majesty."
The captain stroked his chin, considering. "This body is weak - addicted to alcohol and drugs, frail, with no martial skill. I should eliminate you for this insult."
"I need you to lead me to Koga, the one held here," Ash said calmly. "As the captain, they'll only allow me in with you."
"You're ordering me around?" The captain's irritation was evident in his voice.
"Only to find you a better host, nothing more," Ash replied.
A tense silence filled the chamber as the captain began to pace, casting occasional glances at the various objects in the office.
The captain regarded the bowed Ash once more, his expression hardening. With a sharp motion, he opened the door and said, "Follow me, then."
Ash rose silently, marching close behind the Captain as they made their way through the dim corridors to the prison. Once inside, the Captain requested a guard to unlock the cell door. He accepted the keyring from the guard's hand, fabricating an excuse about needing to speak privately with Koga to negotiate cooperation. Once the guard stepped aside, the Captain locked the door from the inside, ensuring they wouldn't be disturbed.
Leaning toward the Captain's ear, Ash whispered, "Now I will take your ring and force it upon Koga."
The Captain offered a twisted smile and replied, "I've already transferred my soul into it, so eliminating this host won't affect me anymore."
Ash nodded and carefully slipped the ring from the Captain's finger. As soon as he did, the Captain's eyes reverted to their natural color, and he swayed, momentarily disoriented. Barely able to stand, he held his head in confusion. "What... what happened?" he asked weakly.
Ash offered no response. With a swift, silent motion, he drew his sword and, in one clean strike, decapitated the Captain. The man's head tumbled to the ground with a dull thud, while his body stood still momentarily before collapsing in a spray of blood. Crimson splattered the stone walls and pooled upon the cold floor, surrounding the lifeless corpse.
Without hesitation, Ash wiped his blade clean and sheathed it. He knelt beside the body and retrieved the keys, then approached the cage where Koga was imprisoned. His heart pounded - this was the most critical moment of his mission. He leaned toward the iron helmet that encased Koga's head and whispered, "I am here to rescue you, Koga."
Koga responded with a violent headbutt, slamming Ash squarely in the nose. Blood gushed from Ash's nose, and he staggered backward, stunned.
"I've heard enough about you," Ash said, his voice steady despite the pain. "I want you to work for me. I can't allow you to perish here."
Koga remained silent, his presence as imposing as ever.
"I'll pay you handsomely," Ash continued, attempting to find a way to appeal to the warrior. "The best food, the finest women - anything you desire. All of it can be yours. You'll live a life of luxury, without a single worry. All you have to do is join me."
Koga's silence was deafening.
Ash sighed, wiping the blood from his nose. "You don't have to decide now. Take your time. But I'm not leaving you here to perish. I'm freeing you whether you want it or not."
Koga stood still, his thoughts unreadable, but for the first time, there was a flicker of something in the gap in his helmet.
With a swift twist of the key, Ash unlocked the iron gloves that had bound Koga's hand. The heavy restraints clanged onto the floor with a resounding thud, their echo reverberating through the cold prison walls. Ash, attempting to capitalize upon the moment, reached for Koga's free hand to slip the ring upon his finger - but he was too slow.
The moment Koga felt his hand freed, his instincts activated. With his one freed hand, he delivered a devastating blow to Ash, employing his innate Force. Ash was flung across the cell like a ragdoll, crashing into the iron bars with a painful thud.
Just then, Akira appeared in the prison, emerging from the same hidden spot where he had previously excavated a tunnel. He was too late. With one hand still shackled, Koga exerted his power, and with a sharp twist, he shattered another restraint. Koga sensed Akira's presence the moment his feet struck the floor. Feeling the tremors, Koga raised his open palm in Akira's direction. Akira barely had time to dodge as an invisible wave of Force surged through the air, crashing into the stone wall behind him. The entire building trembled as the stone crumbled beneath the immense pressure.
Akira, familiar with Koga's reputation, still stood stunned by witnessing the overwhelming power firsthand.
Meanwhile, Ash struggled to regain his footing. He attempted to remain quiet, but his efforts to approach Koga stealthily were futile. Whether it was the faint rustle of clothing or the subtle shift of air, Koga sensed him approaching. Without even glancing, Koga indicated Ash's direction and unleashed another wave of Force. This time, Ash managed to evade, but just barely - the blast tore through his hair and seared his scalp. Desperate, Ash lunged forward, grasping Koga's hand and slipping the ring onto his finger. Koga retaliated with another blast, sending Ash flying once more. This hit was far worse than before. Blood spurted from Ash's ears, nose, and eyes as he collapsed to the ground, barely breathing and unable to move. He coughed weakly, blood staining the floor around him. The ring had made its way onto Koga's finger, but only to the height of his nail. Was it sufficient?
Akira, observing from the shadows, found himself in a dilemma. Should he make a move and snatch the ring? Or should he escape while he still could? His warrior's pride screamed at him to fight, to face such a formidable opponent as Koga. But deep down, he knew that in this confined stone chamber, Koga's Force was too deadly. Akira had always known about Koga's power, but witnessing it firsthand - how effortlessly he could tear through stone - left him awestruck. In a confined space like this, Akira's usual advantage of controlling the stone around him was diminished. Koga's Force was beyond anything he could handle here. If they were to face each other in combat, Akira knew it would have to be in an open area, where he had room to evade and strategize.
Koga, now fully free, stood tall. His marble-like skin shone even in the dim light of the prison, his white hair glowing against the darkness like a beacon. His eyes, a deep, menacing red with a ferocious bloodlust, were fixed upon Akira, burning with murderous intent. The two warriors stared each other down, neither making a move. The tension in the chamber was palpable, both men ready to explode into action.
In a rare display of restraint, Akira was the first to break eye contact. Without a word, he turned and disappeared through the same hidden tunnel from which he had come.
Koga's attention turned to Ash, who lay motionless upon the floor. Adjusting the ring upon his finger, Koga crouched beside him and grasped Ash by the hair, effortlessly lifting him off the ground.
"You…you…weren't ly…lying," Koga muttered, his voice strained and low. With a dismissive toss, he threw Ash back onto the floor.
But something strange was occurring. As Koga moved toward the door, his steps grew slower. He took two paces, then froze, as though time itself was constricting his movements. Ash, struggling to comprehend what was happening, summoned what little strength he had left to rise. He observed in confusion as Koga took another two paces before freezing once again, his body moving in unnatural intervals.
Ash could only watch, his own legs refusing to cooperate, as the powerful Koga seemed trapped in an unseen force beyond either of their understanding.
The alarm bell's shrill cry shattered the night's silence. Torches blazed to life across the battlements, and armored figures poured from the barracks like disturbed hornets from their nest.
The prison door exploded outward in a shower of splinters and twisted iron. Koga emerged, his marble-white skin gleaming in the torchlight, those crimson eyes burning with feral intensity. The ring sat upon his finger, glinting mockingly in the firelight.
"Intruders in the yard!" a guard's voice cut through the chaos. "The prisoner's escaped!"
Akira pressed himself against the shadow of a storage building, his black cloak merging with the darkness. His breathing slowed, controlled, as he assessed the situation. He'd hoped to slip away unnoticed, but Koga's dramatic exit had eliminated that possibility entirely. Guards were spreading out, searching. He needed to move, and soon.
His warrior's pride whispered a different path - use this chaos to make another attempt at the ring.
Koga took three measured steps into the courtyard before freezing again, that strange temporal trap afflicting him once more. It was the ring's influence, Akira realized. Whatever magic it possessed was fighting against Koga's will, slowing his movements to these unsettling intervals.
A dozen guards formed a semi-circle around the escaped prisoner, spears lowered, crossbows aimed. Their lieutenant, a veteran with a scarred face and graying beard, stepped forward.
"Stand down!" he commanded, though his voice wavered slightly as he took in Koga's imposing form. "You're surrounded. There's no escape."
From his hiding spot, Akira remained perfectly still, watching, calculating. He needed to get close to Koga, to somehow retrieve that ring. But with the guards present and Koga's Force at full power, any direct approach would be suicide. Perhaps he could wait, let them weaken each other...
Koga's head turned slowly - painfully slowly - toward the captain. When he spoke, his voice was a guttural rasp, as if the words were being dragged from some deep abyss within him.
"Move... aside."
"Fire!" the captain shouted.
Three crossbow bolts flew through the air, their iron tips glinting. Koga raised his palm, fingers splayed, and even in his slowed state, his power manifested. An invisible wave of Force erupted from his hand. The bolts were deflected violently, spinning off course and clattering against stone. The wave continued forward, slamming into the nearest guards with brutal force.
Men screamed. Three guards flew backward, their armor dented from the impact. One struck the stone wall hard enough to crack his helmet, collapsing unconscious. Another tumbled across the cobblestones, his arm bent at an unnatural angle. The third managed to catch himself against a post, gasping for breath, ribs clearly broken.
The courtyard descended into controlled chaos as more guards rushed to respond.
"There! Another one!" someone yelled, pointing toward the shadows where Akira had been concealed.
Akira cursed silently. A torch-bearing guard had spotted the edge of his cloak. Stealth was no longer an option. As spears thrust toward his position, he darted from cover, his hand sweeping in a circular motion. The cobblestones beneath three guards' feet suddenly rose up, forming a low wall that caught their weapons. In the same fluid movement, Akira rolled behind a water barrel, using his earth sense to track every footfall around him.
A sword swept through the space where his head had been moments before. Akira's hand shot out from behind the barrel, fingers making a sharp pushing gesture toward the stone wall beside him. A section of it jutted forward like a blunt spike, catching the swordsman in the shoulder and sending him spinning away with a cry of pain.
Koga moved again - two more steps - then froze. His eyes, however, never stopped tracking the guards circling him. Another soldier, braver or more foolish than the rest, charged with a war cry.
Koga's hand moved in a sweeping gesture, his fingers curling inward. The Force wave this time was wider but less concentrated. It caught the charging soldier, lifting him off his feet and hurling him backward. He crashed into two others, sending all three sprawling across the courtyard. One struck a support beam and slumped down, dazed. Another scrambled away, clearly shaken but still mobile.
"Get the second one! Pin him down!" the captain ordered, his voice sharp with command.
Four guards rushed Akira's position simultaneously. He pressed both palms to the ground and made a pushing motion outward. The cobblestones around him rippled like water, throwing off his attackers' balance. Two of them stumbled into each other, and Akira drew his fingers through the air in a downward motion. The stones beneath their feet softened into mud, and both guards slipped, falling hard onto their backs with metallic crashes.
One stumbled but kept his footing. Akira formed a fist, and a gauntlet materialized around his hand. He delivered a crushing blow to the guard's jaw, sending teeth and blood spraying across the courtyard. The man crumpled.
A crossbow bolt grazed Akira's shoulder, tearing through his cloak and drawing a line of fire across his skin. He hissed in pain but kept moving, diving behind an overturned cart. Wood splintered and exploded as a Force wave from Koga demolished his cover entirely, though the bulk of the impact had been absorbed by the heavy cart.
Akira rolled out just in time, feeling the residual pressure wave wash over him. When he came up, his shoulder screamed in protest, and he could feel warm blood trickling down his arm beneath his armor.
Koga was moving more frequently now, the intervals between his movements shortening. Whatever power the ring held over him was weakening, or perhaps getting stronger, completely taking over his body.. Either way, he was becoming more dangerous with each passing moment.
A second lieutenant temporarily stationed at the castle, a man built like an ox and wielding a massive two-handed sword, charged at Akira with a roar. Akira's eyes narrowed. He waited until the last possible moment, then thrust his palm upward. A thick pillar of stone erupted directly in the lieutenant's path. The man couldn't stop his momentum - he struck the pillar chest-first with a resounding clang, his sword falling from his grip. Before he could recover, Akira made a crumbling gesture with his fingers, and the pillar collapsed. The lieutenant fell among the rubble, gasping for breath, winded but alive.
"Surround the white-haired one!" the guard screamed, trying to organize his comrades. "Keep your distance! Use crossbows!"
His tactical thinking was cut short as Koga turned those hellish red eyes upon him. The guard froze, instinct screaming at him to run. Koga raised both hands this time, palms facing outward, his fingers spread wide.
"Everyone down!" Akira shouted, driven by instinct.
The Force wave that erupted from Koga was his most powerful yet - but the effort clearly taxed him. The invisible pressure expanded outward in a cone before him. Guards within five paces were lifted off their feet and thrown backward violently. Three struck walls and structures with bone-breaking force, their armor crumpling. Four others were sent sprawling across the cobblestones, groaning in pain but still breathing. The stone wall directly in front of Koga developed deep cracks, and a section of wooden scaffolding collapsed with a thunderous crash.
But the blast wasn't the omnidirectional devastation it could have been. Koga staggered after unleashing it, breathing heavily, the ring on his finger pulsing erratically. The temporal binding seemed to tighten again, slowing his next movement.
Akira had thrown himself flat and rolled to the side, partially shielded by the remains of debris. The pressure wave caught his leg, and he felt something wrench painfully in his knee. Blood filled his mouth where he'd bitten his tongue. When the pressure ceased, he dragged himself up, spitting crimson onto the cobblestones.
The courtyard was a scene of carnage. Bodies lay everywhere - some moving weakly, crying out in pain, others ominously still. Blood pooled between the cobblestones, reflecting the torchlight. Of the two dozen guards who had responded to the alarm, perhaps eight remained standing or capable of fighting, though most were backing away slowly, their faces pale with fear.
Koga stood at the center of it all, breathing heavily, swaying slightly. The ring upon his finger pulsed with a sickly light. He took several steps forward - continuous steps now, the temporal binding clearly weakening - and turned those predatory eyes upon Akira.
This was it. Akira knew he had perhaps seconds to decide: fight a battle he might not win, or retreat and live to plan another approach.
He chose survival.
Rising to his feet with a grimace, Akira swept both hands downward in a sharp motion. The earth beneath Koga's feet suddenly opened up, forming a pit that swallowed him to the head. At the same time, Akira thrust his palms toward the ground around himself. Stone pillars erupted in a protective circle, creating a barrier between him and the remaining guards. As Koga struggled in the pit, Akira was already sprinting toward the wall he'd climbed earlier, his injured knee protesting with every step.
But Koga was far from defeated. With a snarl of effort, he raised both arms and brought them down sharply. A Force wave erupted downward and outward, shattering the earth that held him. Stones and dirt exploded in all directions. A chunk of rock struck Akira's back, and he stumbled, pain lancing through his spine. He forced himself to keep running, blood now flowing freely from multiple wounds.
Behind him, he heard the sound of stone crumbling as Koga pulled himself free. Akira didn't look back. He reached the base of the wall, and with a desperate upward thrust of his arms, he created a thick stone pillar directly beneath his feet. The pillar shot upward rapidly, launching him high into the air like a catapult stone.
A crossbow bolt whistled past his ear - one of the surviving guards making a final attempt. Another clipped his cloak, tearing the fabric.
He soared over the battlements just as a Force wave struck the pillar below him. The stone structure cracked and partially crumbled, but Akira was already beyond it. He landed hard on the outer side of the wall, immediately making a downward gesture with both hands. Small ledges of stone jutted from the wall face in rapid succession, breaking his descent as he half-climbed, half-fell down the outer face.
He hit the ground in a roll, ignoring the agony in his shoulder, his back, his ribs, his wrenched knee. Behind him, Eagle Fort was in chaos. Bells rang frantically. Men shouted in confusion and pain. But no one pursued him into the darkness of the forest. They had more immediate concerns.
He'd failed. The ring remained upon Koga's finger. And he'd barely escaped with his life.
Inside the fort, the surviving guards moved through the carnage with numb horror. Bodies lay everywhere - some dead, most severely injured, all bearing the marks of that terrible invisible force. The courtyard looked like a battlefield after a brutal skirmish, not the site of one escaped prisoner's rampage.
Koga stood motionless in the center of it all, those crimson eyes staring at nothing. The ring upon his finger pulsed with dim light, and his body would occasionally twitch, as if two forces were fighting for control within him. His breathing was labored, heavy. The exertion had taken its toll. Then, without warning, he turned and walked toward the main gate. His steps were measured now, purposeful, though he moved with a slight stagger.
The few remaining guards scrambled out of his path, pressing themselves against walls, praying he wouldn't notice them. He paid them no mind. He walked through the gate as if they didn't exist, disappearing into the night beyond.
Where Koga went, none could say. He simply vanished into the darkness, leaving only death, injury, and ruin in his wake.
In the prison, the Blackfrost mercenaries finally arrived, drawn by the sounds of battle and the subsequent eerie silence. They found their leader, Ash Blackfrost, lying in a pool of his own blood, his armor dented and cracked, his face pale as death.
But he was breathing.
"Commander!" One of the mercenaries - a young woman with short-cropped hair and a crossbow - dropped to her knees beside him. "Commander, can you hear me?"
Ash's eyes fluttered open. Blood still seeped from his ears, and when he tried to speak, only a wet, gurgling sound emerged. His hand moved weakly, gesturing toward where Koga had been.
"Gone," another mercenary confirmed, a grizzled veteran with a scarred face. "Whatever that thing was, it's gone. Left half the garrison dead or crippled on its way out."
They carefully lifted Ash, supporting his weight between them. The young woman pressed cloth against his wounds, trying to stem the bleeding. "We need to get him to a healer. Now."
"The fort's healers are tending to the survivors," the veteran said grimly, surveying the carnage. "We move him to the closest town. It's a day's hard riding, but - "
"He might not have a day," the woman interrupted.
"Then we ride like demons are chasing us," the veteran replied. "Because after what I saw out there, they might be."
The Blackfrost mercenaries carried their commander from the prison, through the courtyard of death and suffering, and out into the night. Behind them, Eagle Fort stood in chaos, filled with the moans of the wounded and the crackling of torches.
The moon hung heavy and full above, illuminating the scene of devastation below with cold, indifferent light.
Akira stood in the dense, moonlit forest, the trees around him casting twisted shadows across the ground. Each step back toward his camp felt heavier, weighed down by the severe wounds. The cold night air stung his skin easing his pain, but it was nothing compared to the burn of anger churning inside him. As he reached the clearing, the sight of the demon, draped in a white mask and bathed in the glow of the full moon, did little to soothe his seething thoughts.
The demon stood still, staring at the moon with quiet reverence, as if the chaos of the world meant nothing to him. Akira approached, his body beaten, his breathing heavy, the words of his report bitter upon his tongue.
"I couldn't retrieve it." His voice was clipped.
The demon turned, his reaction infuriatingly indifferent. "It is now upon Koga's finger." Akira continued occasionally groaning with pain.
"I know. It appears that it possesses some mind-controlling or possessing properties." The demon's words came as no surprise, and Akira could tell this creature had anticipated this outcome long before. The demon casually pulled a small notebook from his pocket, scribbling notes with the same detached calm that had begun to grate upon Akira's nerves.
"Well, this is most unfortunate," the demon said, more to himself than to Akira, before slipping the notes back into his pocket.
Akira stood there, hand clenched to his shoulder wound, every muscle in his body screaming. But the demon paid no mind, his demeanor unshaken.
"Now if you excuse me, I will report it back to my supervisor," the demon continued, his voice still irritatingly composed.
"Will I know who that is?" Akira asked, his voice sharp, letting go his shoulder wound with bleeding stopped.
"Tasks should concern you more than her identity," the demon replied coolly, handing Akira a sack of coins. The weight of it in Akira's hand felt like an insult, a token of his failure and a pitiful reward for what he'd faced.
"Success or failure, this is a promised payment for your trouble. I cut a percentage of failure from it before."
Akira's gaze hardened, eyes burning with fury as he stared into the cold, blank face of the demon's mask. The air felt thick, almost suffocating as the demon casually dismissed him, acting as if Akira's efforts had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He knew. The demon had known the entire time that retrieving the ring would be impossible, and now he stood there, smug and untouchable, tossing a meager reward like a bone to a dog.
The sack of coins creaked in Akira's tightening fist. He could feel his own breath quickening, the veins in his neck pulsing as humiliation and anger fused into something darker.
"Now as I said," the demon added, stepping back with an air of finality, "I will go. I will contact you as soon as a new task is granted to you."
A swirling mist of blackness began to rise around the demon, wrapping itself around his form like a shroud. The white mask was the last thing to vanish as the demon dissolved into the night, his parting words hanging ominously in the air: "If you have nothing else to do… you can already make a trip to the Coast."
And then, silence.
Akira stood alone beneath the moon, the weight of the sack heavy in his grip, but it was nothing compared to the weight upon his soul. His jaw clenched, fists trembling. The forest was still, but within him, a storm raged. He regarded the sack of coins again, his pride crushed beneath the cold exchange. He despised how the demon had played him, how this had all been nothing more than a game - one where Akira was always meant to lose.