The ruins groaned around them as wind howled through broken windows and shattered stone. Sunbeams poured through the cracked ceiling, casting an eerie glow on the dusty floor. Reu stood in a defensive stance, sweat trickling down his brow, his blade gripped tightly in both hands. Across from him stood Killa—tall, fearsome, deadly. Despite having only one arm, she radiated the confidence of a warrior who had slain hundreds. A chained dagger hung from her good hand, gleaming in the pale light.
They had fought briefly already—a blur of steel flashing in fury, ragged breaths torn from aching lungs, and blood that splattered the ground in bright arcs. Reu's cheek still bore the sting of a shallow cut, while Killa's bootprint lingered painfully in his side. The echo of their clashing steel still hung in the air like thunder refusing to fade. Now, they stood locked in a tense stillness, every heartbeat thudding like a war drum in their ears. The silence wasn't peace—it was the coiling breath of the storm about to roar, the fragile space where fate inhaled before unleashing hell.
Killa broke it, sneering. "You're just lucky," she hissed, her voice rough with venom, "I'm still adjusting to having only one arm."
Reu just shrugged, breathing heavily. "Tskk... excuses won't change your fate."
Killa's eyes flashed. "I remember you. When we razed the Helos camp... you fought like a wild dog. Fierce. But that ends today. Your flame flickers its last."
Without another word, Killa surged forward with terrifying speed, the chain of her dagger screaming through the air like a wailing specter. The sound alone sent a chill down Reu's spine. He instinctively stepped back, slashing to intercept, but Killa moved like liquid shadow—fluid, unpredictable, slipping through his defense like smoke through fingers.
She dropped to a crouch mid-run, sliding across the dusty floor, her momentum carrying her beneath Reu's strike. The chain lashed out, snapping around his blade with a metallic snap, and yanked it off course. Reu barely had time to pivot when the dagger came whistling toward his chest.
He twisted his torso, the blade slicing through his tunic and nicking the skin beneath. Warm blood seeped through the fabric.
Killa laughed—sharp, cruel, a sound that echoed through the ruins like the cracking of bone. "Still too slow," she hissed, her eyes glinting with the thrill of the hunt.
Gritting his teeth, Reu slid back and gathered energy in his stance. "FOCUS SLASH!" he roared, his sword humming with force as he brought it down in a precise arc. But Killa twisted out of range, the chain whipping around her for momentum. The blade struck only empty air.
"Predictable," she sneered.
Then, with a wicked grin, she hurled the dagger forward. The blade sunk into Reu's shoulder. He grunted but didn't scream, instead grabbing the chain with a bloodied hand and yanking Killa toward him.
She flew forward, her eyes wide with sudden surprise. Reu pulled back his sword, preparing a lethal thrust—
But Killa flipped in midair, tumbling above him, and landed behind his back. Her agility was shocking.
Reu turned fast, panting. "I won't surrender. This wound... it only reminds me that I'm still weak—and that I must become stronger. For my chief."
Killa smirked. "Your loyalty will be your death."
She dashed again, her boots barely touching the cracked floor. Reu held his blade low, watching. Killa leapt into the air, her voice like thunder.
"KILLING STRIKE!"
She spun downward, the dagger aimed at his skull. Reu, without hesitation, shouted, "FOCUS SLASH!" and raised his sword to meet her midair.
Their weapons clashed with a deafening CRACK. A shockwave burst from the collision, shaking the ruins. Cracks splintered along the walls and roof. Debris began to fall.
They both sprang away, narrowly avoiding large chunks of stone. Dust billowed everywhere.
Killa vanished into the dust.
"Reu! Stay alert!" he told himself, but too late—a flash of silver, a scream of steel—Killa burst from the smoke and drove her dagger deep into Reu's side.
"AGH!" he collapsed to one knee, blood gushing down his ribs.
Killa stood over him, breathing hard but victorious. "This is your final moment. At least tell me your name."
Despite the pain, Reu smirked. Blood stained his teeth. "Reu Jacinth. And I will become the right hand of the next Ashkin King."
Killa paused for half a second, nodding slightly. "A noble death then."
She raised her dagger—but before she could strike, an invisible force yanked her backward. She slammed into the stone wall with terrifying force. Blood sprayed from her mouth. Her body crumpled to the floor.
Reu blinked in disbelief.
The dust parted, and a silhouette emerged—broad-shouldered, slouched, moving with the lazy grace of someone utterly unfazed by danger. The figure stepped forward into the light: an older man, ragged in both dress and demeanor, a half-empty bottle swinging loosely from his calloused hand.
"Ted?" Reu gasped, disbelief laced with pain. The world spun around him, but the face before him was unmistakable.
Ted gave a crooked smile, one eye squinting against the light. "Are you okay, young man? Still breathing, I see. That's a good start."
Reu's legs wobbled as he tried to steady himself. "You're the guy from before… back at the road… You're just on time. But if you're here to watch me die, you're too late. Death doesn't scare me."
Ted gave a deep chuckle, more gravel than mirth. "Such bravery. Or foolishness. Hard to tell with you young ones. I like that."
He knelt slowly, helping Reu sit up. The younger warrior hissed through his teeth, clutching at the wound in his side. Blood soaked through his tunic, the pain hot and sharp.
"You're bleeding like a stuck hog," Ted muttered. "You need help, boy."
Reu coughed, managing a grin despite the agony. "I've had worse. I can manage."
Ted snorted. "Spoken like every dying soldier I've ever met. Still, I'll take your word for it—for now."
Killa stirred, groaning, blood dribbling from her lip. She crawled across the floor, reaching for her dagger with trembling fingers. Her breathing was ragged, chest heaving as she whispered, "Who the hell... are you?!"
Ted turned to her with a crooked grin that barely masked something feral. "Me? Just a friendly old Ashkin."
Without warning, he raised his palm—and with a surge of unseen force, Killa screamed as her body was yanked through the air like a rag doll. Her dagger flew from her hand, clattering harmlessly away.
"NO!"
BANG!
Ted's fist smashed into her face with such power that her skull snapped backward, a bone-cracking pop echoing in the air. A thunderous shockwave rippled outward, shattering the stone beneath her as her body slammed into it. Blood spattered in a wide arc. She collapsed to the floor, limbs twitching.
But Ted wasn't finished.
He stepped over her body with eerie calm, then brought his fist down again. Her face jerked sideways from the impact.
Then again. Her nose crumpled inward. A tooth flew out.
Then again. And again. The wet sound of flesh and bone breaking filled the silent ruins.
"STOP!" Reu shouted hoarsely. "Old man—STOP! She's done!"
Ted slowly turned. His smile was twisted wide, his teeth sharp and glinting. His eyes glowed a deep, malevolent red that burned in the gloom.
Reu recoiled. That face—it was no longer human. It was a demon's grin, raw and ravenous.
Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the monstrous visage faded. Ted blinked innocently, straightened his back, and chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry, young man. Did I scare you? ZEHAHAHAHA!"
He hoisted Killa's broken, unconscious body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes—though even potatoes might have deserved more care. Her limbs dangled limply, one twisted at an unnatural angle, her face a mangled canvas of bruises and dried blood. The side of her jaw was swollen grotesquely, an eye already purple and shut.
Reu, still clutching his side and gasping for breath, stared in a mix of horror and disbelief. "What... what are you going to do with her?" he asked, voice hoarse, eyes lingering on the crimson trails streaking down Ted's arm from her.
"Take her in," Ted replied without looking back. His voice was casual, disturbingly calm. "There's a fine bounty on her head. And I intend to collect it—dead or alive makes no difference to them."
Reu flinched. "That's... brutal."
Ted chuckled. "She's lucky I left her alive at all."
The old man adjusted her weight, her body slumping further as if rejecting the world altogether.
Reu stared at him. "Who are you... really?"
Ted winked. "Zehahaha... just your typical Ashkin. Nothing more."
He vanished into the shadows, leaving Reu alone.
The young warrior collapsed onto the rubble, blood seeping from his side and soaking into the dust below. His sword clattered weakly beside him, the once-glimmering blade dulled by crimson and dirt. His chest heaved with every ragged breath, ribs burning, vision swimming. Shards of stone dug into his back, but he no longer had the strength to shift.
Above him, the ceiling lay in ruin—shattered like his certainty. Beams of sunlight filtered down through the haze, mingling with the curling smoke and the scent of charred stone and blood. He blinked, eyes stinging, unable to tell whether it was the dust or the sheer weight of everything he had just witnessed.
His lips, cracked and trembling, moved almost without sound, but the words came, fragile and fractured.
"Who... was that man?" he whispered, more to the ruins than to anyone who might hear. A gust of wind swept through the broken chamber, carrying no answer—only silence and the memory of a smile that wasn't human.