The air around him throbbed. Every breath Wolf drew scraped through his throat like shards of ice.
The world felt distant—blurred at the edges by pain and the violent pulse of ether clawing against his veins. His heart beat not because it wanted to, but because he forced it to. The veins on his neck bulged as a faint blue glow pulsed under his skin—ether channeled directly to his heart to keep it from failing.
So they really with Hyung-Woo, huh…?
His lips curved upward into something that wasn't quite a smile. More like the mockery of one.
Good thing I focused ether around my heart in time… to keeps the blood in. Keeps the machine running.
He inhaled sharply, eyes flickering crimson.
But it can't heal the wound… tch.
The pain was crawling now—slow, invasive, like roots spreading beneath his ribs.
His ether core pulsed erratically inside his chest, a faint fracture shimmering through it.
Cracks… shit. Even I can feel it splintering. If that breaks, I'm done.
He cast a look behind him. The remnants of Klion's men huddled together, forming ranks again, trembling yet resolute. Their weapons quivered, the metal ringing faintly from their shaking grips.
"They're gnats," Wolf muttered under his breath, voice low and rough.
"But gnats can still carry disease."
His eyes slid back to Hyung-Woo—the man standing before him, sword drawn, expression calm yet taut as a bowstring.
The faint tremor of killing intent laced the air like static.
He's aiming for my core
He knows that wound won't kill me outright. He's seen it. He's seen this moment. Hah…
A hollow laugh slipped past his teeth.
"Ahahaha… Hahhahha…"
It echoed over the battlefield, bouncing off the trees, off the statue that still towered over them in silent defiance.
So how far can you really see? Well...
Tell me… what does it look like when I tear it apart with my own hands?
Lenmi stirred faintly behind the statue, but she was still pale—her lips barely parted, breath shallow. Her homunculus stood frozen, motionless puppets awaiting their strings.
Wolf exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back.
Either I kill them before my ether runs dry, or I die with my veins hollowed out. Either way, it's the end of something...
"You know," Wolf said aloud, voice calm—too calm.
His gaze burned through the red haze between them.
"I wonder how far you can really see, Hyung-Woo."
The young man didn't answer. Instead, he lifted his blade and tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing—focused, cold.
The air thickened between them. The grass around their feet bent inward as ether collided—
Then they moved.
The sound came before the motion—a sharp crack of air splitting.
Wolf's figure blurred.
In a single breath he vanished from sight, reappearing right in front of Hyung-Woo, saber arcing upward like a streak of lightning toward the man's throat.
But Hyung-Woo had already moved!
His left shoulder dipped, body tilting just enough to let the blade scream past the side of his neck. His sword rose, the forte part—thick and steady—meeting Wolf's saber with a crash that burst sparks into the air.
Clang!
The impact rippled through both their arms.
Hyung-Woo's teeth clenched as his hand trembled from the force.
Heavy…!
Wolf grinned—sharp, animalistic—as he pressed forward.
But Hyung-Woo didn't yield.
He twisted his wrist, stepping in, the motion seamless—a precise counter.
His blade cut diagonally toward Wolf's forearm, a clean riposte meant to cripple.
Wolf's eyes narrowed; his instincts screamed.
He raised his saber just in time, letting the knuckle guard intercept the slash. Steel scraped against steel—screaming.
The two locked eyes—Hyung-Woo's calm, Wolf's burning with a manic gleam.
Hyung-Woo didn't stop there. Using the recoil from the deflection, he pivoted—his wrist rolled, sword tip flicking back with surgical speed. The edge reversed direction, thrusting straight for Wolf's ribs in the same breath as the last block.
Fast!
Wolf's heel scraped against the dirt, ether bursting from his feet as he twisted. His body spun with the momentum of the parry, saber trailing a dark crimson arc. He used the recoil of his last defense to rotate fully, slicing horizontally for Hyung-Woo's legs.
The cut was sharp, merciless—an executioner's swing.
"It's too late!" Wolf barked, voice echoing with raw thrill.
Hyung-Woo's pupils dilated. If I stay, he'll sever it—!
He leapt back, raising his front leg just before the blade passed, the tip of Wolf's saber grazing across his leather pants. He felt the sting—hot and sharp—as blood seeped from a thin gash across his calf.
Smack—!
The air shuddered as steel clashed again.
Hyung-Woo gritted his teeth, pain flashing briefly across his face, but his focus didn't break.
His sword came down in a low swoop, catching the saber's tip to push it aside. Sparks scattered between them.
Wolf's laughter cracked the silence.
"Ahahaha! Not bad!"
His teeth bared in a grin slick with blood.
"You actually bleed slower than I thought, hyung-woo!"
He flicked his wrist, slinging the crimson off his blade, droplets raining down onto the blood-soaked grass between them. His breathing was steady—controlled—but the faint tremor of strain pulsed beneath it.
Hyung-Woo didn't answer.
He shifted his footing again, adjusting his stance—the textbook posture of a trained swordsman, but something colder rested behind his eyes.
Wolf tilted his head, grinning wider.
"Come then, prophet," he muttered.
"Show me what your future says about this next cut."
Hyung-woo's voice cut through the clatter like a blade
"Shut up, devil."
The single word landed harder than any parry.
Wolf's grin flickered— surprise, not because Hyung-woo spoke, but because the man chose that name.
Devil.
It hung in the air like an accusation and a promise.
"Oh?" Wolf said, amusement softening the edge of his tone.
"Is that because of what I do now… or what I will do later?"
He let the question dangle, a slow, provocative smile forming.
"Past, Present... or future, it seem that you'll always find a reason to hate me."
Hyung-woo's reply was not composed serenity. It was a raw, brittle thing:
"You'll always be the worst person in this world."
He spat the last word as if it could stain Wolf.
There was heat behind his voice sound disgust more than fear.
an animal's indignation.
Wolf noticed the tremor in the man's jaw, the tiny, constant shift of weight on his feet.
Not the posture of a prophet who rests on certainty; this was the posture of someone who'd been forced to look at what he'd done and hated the reflection.
Not the quiet certainty of a prophet, Wolf thought, watching the man's shoulders rock with the smallest tremor.
His thought made the familiar amusement curl at the corner of Wolf's mouth, but he swallowed the laugh. He preferred to keep everything framed as a hypothesis. easier to adapt if facts changed.
He let the silence stretch and then, carefully, almost conversationally, he began to assemble his pieces aloud. not as facts, but as plausible links.
"You didn't start a group of your own," Wolf said, voice even.
"You stayed with Arden. You kept things in order. You slowed the rest down. Maybe that was for the good. maybe you thought sheltering them was mercy. Then Arden spiraled."
He watched Hyung-woo's face for a ripple of reaction, any flinch.
"Maybe it scared you. Maybe you decided the only way to keep things—manageable—was to cut the leadership loose and make a new plan. You left. You learned the routes I could not see."
He shrugged once as if the gesture absolved him of arrogance.
"That would explain how you always slip through my lines. That would explain the flash. Is it Maja? You had knowledge before she did. Maybe you taught her indirectly. Maybe you told her. So tell me what are you? Regressor? Returner? Time traveler? Or maybe none of that. maybe you're just a man who got himself good at hiding."
Hyung-woo didn't answer at first. His grip tightened on his sword; the tendons at his wrist jumped. When he finally spoke it was small and plain
"No. I'm just a man."
Wolf's mouth softened into a thin smile, just the way a man savors a hint of a joke.
He kept poking, because poking yielded reaction.
People tell truths when they try to push them back down.
"So tell me, then. Tell me about your first life — if you still remember me the one. Tell me what I have done to push you this far. You let them hang on false hope while you planned in the shadows. You let them starve, knowing only a hundred would make it. Isn't that… a touch cruel? Or practical? Which would you call it?"
Hyung-woo's eyes went black for a split second, rage flaring like a match struck in a dark room.
"Shut up!" He barked.
It wasn't a reasoned rebuttal; it was a raw, human noise, the kind that comes when too much guilt or fear has been shoved under a door and you finally kick the door down.
"Even as you slowly dying you still choose to mock me instead of try finishing this fight. You sick..."
Wolf's face smoothed blank for a breath, like a knife wiped clean.
The moment hung there, fragile and electric. Then, almost tenderly, he let a laugh out — not loud, but cold and clipped.
It was a smile turned inward, the kind a hunter gives when a trap snaps into place.
"Hah." The sound, small and certain, folded into a grin.
Wolf's expression blanked for a heartbeat; the laughter that came after was thin and cold.
He cocked his head, smooth as oil.
"All right."
There was no hesitation in the tone. only a measured dark promise, as if he'd been enjoying the conversation from the start. The smile that creased his face was merciless.
Then he ran.
The moment Wolf lunged, the world broke into rhythm—
steel on steel, breath on breath, a cadence of violence.
Hyung-woo met him head-on, sword glancing and shivering with every parry.
Sparks jumped like fireflies between them, short-lived and bright. The ground beneath their feet was already scarred with shallow grooves, dirt slicked dark by the oil of sweat and blood.
Wolf's eyes flicked sideways for a fraction of a heartbeat—Klion's group still in that damn testudo formation, shields locked and overlapping like scales of some patient creature.
They hadn't budged.
Still holding...
That's annoying.
So this is your plan, huh? Keep them boxed, keep them safe while you buy time?
He let out a small breath, half a laugh that never reached his throat.
Then again… you're barely holding on yourself.
Wolf's saber whirled back to guard, and he pressed forward again. His body moved with practiced precision—hips turned, shoulder relaxed, every motion feeding the next.
Is this really your plan, Hyung-woo? Is this the best you've got?
The gap between our stats is too wide.
You can predict my swings, sure, but you can't outlast me. You're burning through yourself just to stay even.
He pivoted, step sliding through loose soil, and muttered under his breath—almost a whisper only his own ears heard.
"We have the whole day for this, don't we? Let's see how long you can lasts."
Then—he triggered it.
Kinetic Accumulation.
A crimson shimmer ran down his saber's edge, like heat rippling off molten glass. Each consecutive strike began to hum differently—he could feel the charge building.
His heartbeat synced with the weapon's rhythm.
One… two… three… every impact landing heavier, faster, feeding on itself.
Four… five… six… His grip tightened; his breath shortened to a beast's growl.
Hyung-woo's blade met every blow with desperate precision. The man's movements were economical, almost mechanical—deflecting, redirecting, parrying at the last possible moment. Sparks cracked in sharp white bursts against the fogged air.
Seven… eight… nine… ten.
The final tenth strike crashed against Hyung-woo's guard with a violent shockwave.
The impact pushed them both back, boots grinding the dirt. Wolf could feel the familiar pressure of strength blooming under his skin—his veins singing with the temporary surge.
The world slowed.
His weapon grew light in his hands.
He grinned. "Time to end this."
The words came out low, nearly a growl.
He triggered Thousand-Kill Toll.
For an instant the air around him imploded.
His body blurred forward; the red light from his saber exploded into a streak across his field of vision. Strength and speed doubled, condensed into one lethal motion.
Hyung-woo's eyes widened—the first real break in his composure.
He stepped into a Closed Parry, crossing his blade at a sharp inward angle, bracing for the diagonal cut that came roaring toward him.
But Wolf didn't follow through. He twisted his wrist halfway through the motion, shoulders snapping with violent control. The slash reversed mid-arc—
—became a thrust.
The blade's tip shot forward, red glow narrowing into a needle of killing intent. The thrust screamed toward Hyung-woo's chest with impossible precision.
Hyung-woo had no time. His parry line was wrong. His weight was off.
He twisted—desperation overtaking technique. The saber passed so close it sliced through fabric and skin, drawing a flash of blood across his ribs.
Wolf pressed forward immediately, the movement fluid, predatory. He was already calculating distance, momentum, angle.
Then—
"Flash!"
The single word hit him like a thunderclap.
His world went white—violent, searing white. His sight vanished, burned out by that familiar brilliance.
"Tch—!"
He hissed between teeth, head jerking instinctively to the side, blade rising to guard even though he couldn't see. For a split second his balance faltered. The rush of power he'd built bled into wasted air. His body lagged behind his intent.
And in that flicker of blindness—Hyung-woo was gone.
When Wolf's vision began to clear, all he saw were shadows scattering and the faint shimmer of motion ahead. His ears caught it before his eyes did—footsteps. Not one, not ten—hundreds. The synchronized rhythm of armor and earth trembling under weight.
The air filled with the low thunder of approach.
Wolf barely had time to breathe before he slammed his will into motion.
"Red Tide!" he rasped, not calling it aloud so much as commanding his body.
The world shifted; a thin, dark mist peeled up from the ground and curled around him like an answering tide. It was not the viscous, clotted fog of the first onslaught but the same blood-tinged haze—hot at the edges of his senses, tasting of iron and adrenaline.
The air hummed with the scent of panic; every inhale felt like drawing smoke into his lungs.
He counted in his head with mechanical calm.
Five seconds.
Five seconds of blindness he already knew would come; five seconds that had to be paid for in motion and blood.
He'd buy the time with pain and fury.
Across the field Hyung-woo's voice cut through, steel and command braided together.
"This is our last chance! Kill him! Even the smallest wound will cripple him—strike together!"
The formation answered.
A rolling rumble of shields, the rattle of spears, the scrape of boot leather. Klion's men—steady, disciplined—shifted, closing the gaps Hyung-woo's shout opened.
Wolf could hear Klion bellow, a single gruff order and the testudo tightened like a living thing, ready to stamp out one man.
Hyung-woo led the charge himself—forward with the point of his sword like a living arrow, his soldiers pressed close, shields interlocked, faces set in white masks of resolve.
Every step they took was a calculation to land the smallest wound that would cascade into his advantage.
Wolf's eyes went red in the fog; pupils pinpricks of lantern flame.
He read the rhythm—shield lift, spear step, the micro-breath before the drive.
Suddenly, a smile bloomed on his face.
It wasn't a crooked smirk, but a wide, gleeful, inhuman grin.
He began to laugh quietly under his breath—a soft "Hngh-hngh" that evolved into a laugh that shook from the depths of his wounded chest.
"Hah... Hahaha!"
The laughter was sharp, violent, almost fracturing. It rose above the clash of shields and the roar of the klion's men.
A frantic amusement surged like a crescendo in the soundtrack to the impending massacre.
He stretched the arm holding his saber forward, dragging the blade's tip across the blood-soaked mud at his feet, as if drawing a final line.
He lifted his head, crimson eyes blazing through the fog, and bellowed with a raw voice, bright like molten iron. The laughter echoed across the entire Field of Blood, a hallmark of the maddest glee in the heart of death.
"Come then! Let's see how beautifully the final trembling lump of flesh will dance! Hahahaha-hahaha!"