The wind howled through the sprawling stronghold of the Assassin Empire, the night air thick with an electric tension. In the distance, the shadows twisted unnaturally, responding to an unseen force. At the center of it all, the great throne room of the Empire stood silent, its once-bustling halls eerily vacant. The assassins who remained dared not approach—something had shifted.
And then he appeared.
Retsyu.
Not stepping into existence, but already there—as though he had never left. The world itself seemed to slow around him, the air thickening as his crimson eyes scanned the empty hall. He wore the black-and-gold robes of an Emperor, the edges of the fabric fraying slightly, as if reality struggled to keep up with him.
Retsyu: (softly, to himself) Seven years. Seven years of stagnation, of failure, and this is what my empire has become?
His voice carried a razor-sharp edge, cutting through the silence like a blade. He took a step forward, his movements so fluid and precise they left no sound. Shadows twisted and coiled at his feet, as if alive.
Retsyu: (quietly) They think they understand speed. They think they can replace me. Fools.
A faint ripple disturbed the air behind him, and Retsyu's crimson eyes flicked sideways, his lips curling into a faint smirk. Without turning, he spoke, his voice calm.
Retsyu: (coldly) Hiding? At your level?
A figure stepped forward from the shadows—a young assassin, trembling as he knelt before Retsyu. His voice wavered.
Assassin: E-Emperor... you're alive?
Retsyu turned to face the assassin fully, his movements a blur that resolved instantly, his smirk widening.
Retsyu: (mockingly) Alive? No. I never died. But what you saw—what the world saw—was enough, wasn't it?
The assassin's eyes widened in realization, his voice barely above a whisper.
Assassin: (shocked) The afterimage... That was you?
Retsyu nodded, his expression darkening.
Retsyu: (calmly) What you saw was a fragment of my presence. Enough to fool even Sukojo... or so I thought.
He stepped closer, his crimson eyes locking onto the assassin.
Retsyu: (coldly) Tell me. What has become of my empire in my absence?
Retsyu's cold, commanding voice echoed across the vast chamber, laced with an edge sharp enough to carve through steel. He stood tall, his form radiating an aura of mastery and dominance. His presence alone seemed to ripple through the air, shaking the very foundation of the Assassin Empire's sanctum. The few remaining assassins who had gathered in his presence dared not meet his gaze. They knelt, trembling, unable to find words.
The silence lingered like a noose tightening around their necks.
Finally, one of the assassins, an older man clad in the traditional black and crimson robes of the empire, raised his head ever so slightly. His voice was shaky but filled with reverence.
Elder Assassin: (respectfully) Emperor Retsyu... the empire has fractured in your absence. Without your guidance, the clans have scattered... some have turned rogue.
Retsyu's crimson eyes narrowed, his displeasure palpable.
Retsyu: (coldly) Scattered? Rogue? My empire was built on precision, loyalty, and strength. How dare they fracture what I created?
The elder lowered his head further, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elder Assassin: Forgive us, my lord. The vacuum left after your... departure... was too great. None among us could wield your power, your wisdom. It was chaos.
Retsyu's gaze shifted, scanning the trembling figures around him. He exhaled sharply, the air around him shimmering as his aura pulsed faintly. His voice dropped to a chilling calm.
Retsyu: (softly) I see. Then it falls to me to rebuild what was lost. And to punish those who betrayed my name.
The assassins remained silent, knowing better than to speak out of turn. But then, another voice broke the quiet—a younger assassin, bold or foolish enough to raise his head.
Young Assassin: (hesitant) Emperor... there are rumors. Whispers of a man... or a being who claimed to have bested you. They say... they say Sukojo destroyed you.
The chamber froze. Every assassin turned toward the young man, horror etched across their faces. Even the elder's breath hitched as he dared a glance at Retsyu, whose expression remained unreadable.
For a long, agonizing moment, Retsyu said nothing. Then, his lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smile.
Retsyu: (quietly) Sukojo. Yes... the name that echoes like thunder, the storm that no one can outrun.
The young assassin trembled, realizing too late the weight of his words.
Young Assassin: (quickly) Forgive me, Emperor! I only meant to—
Retsyu raised a hand, silencing him instantly. His smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation.
Retsyu: (calmly) He believes himself a god, untouchable, faster than the very concept of speed itself. But what he fought that day... was not me.
The chamber erupted in whispers, the assassins exchanging shocked glances. Retsyu's gaze darkened, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade.
Retsyu: (sharply) Silence.
The room fell still once more. Retsyu took a step forward, the sound of his footfall reverberating unnaturally, as if the air itself were acknowledging his presence.
Retsyu: (coldly) The Sukojo who "defeated" me fought a fragment of my power—an afterimage, nothing more. A reflection I left behind to protect this empire. It seems even that was not enough.
The assassins looked at one another, awe and disbelief warring on their faces. The elder assassin dared to speak again, his voice steadying as he bowed deeply.
Elder Assassin: Emperor, if Sukojo fought only an afterimage and not your true self... then what does this mean for the empire? For the world?
Retsyu's crimson eyes gleamed, a dangerous light flickering within them.
Retsyu: (softly) It means the world has forgotten what true speed is. What true power looks like. And I will remind them. I will remind him. Sukojo will know the difference between chasing shadows... and facing the storm.
Then, somewhere far away.
Far from the Assassin Empire, in a desolate expanse untouched by time, Sukojo stood alone, his hands buried in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His smirk widened as a faint ripple in the fabric of existence reached him, a sensation so subtle that only someone of his caliber would notice.
Sukojo: (amused) Well, well. Look who's finally awake.
The ripple grew stronger, sharper, as if announcing its presence. Sukojo tilted his head, his voice light but tinged with something darker.
Sukojo: (softly) Retsyu. You always were good at making an entrance.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as the ripple faded. When he opened them again, his smirk had twisted into something sharper, more dangerous.
Sukojo: (mockingly) Let's see if you've learned anything new, Emperor Of The Assassin Empire. I've been waiting for this.
He took a step forward, his aura flaring faintly as the winds around him stilled. The air grew heavier, the space around him distorting ever so slightly.
Sukojo: (softly) You think you can outrun me? Let's find out. Hehe.
Meanwhile, Back in the Assassin Empire
Retsyu stood atop the highest tower of his empire, his crimson cloak billowing in the wind as he stared out over the shattered remnants of his domain. His expression was unreadable, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of cold resolve.
Retsyu: (to himself) Sukojo. You may be faster. You may even be stronger. But speed... true speed... is not measured in power. It's measured in precision. Control. And that is where you will fall.
He extended his hand, the air around him shimmering as his aura flared to life. The techniques of the Assassin Empire flowed through him like second nature, each one a weapon sharpened to perfection.
Retsyu: (softly) The empire will rise again. And when it does... so will I.
As the wind carried his words into the distance, a faint glimmer appeared in the sky—far off, but unmistakable. A storm was coming, one born of speed and fury, and the world would never be the same.
To Be Continued...
End Of Arc 4 Chapter 9.