Following the trail, a man arrives at what used to be a home for three.
Only rubble remains.
Off to the side—
Three graves.
Each marked with a single white flower, now beginning to decay.
"Graves?"
His eyes narrow.
"If the target killed them… and yet there were remains to bury… then someone else was here."
Curiosity replaces doubt.
"I am the only one assigned to this mission. If another party interfered, they are not from the organization… which means they lack the means to kill him."
Broken branches.
Disturbed soil.
He moves.
Fast.
—
Two days earlier…
I place the last flower down.
The grave is small.
Painfully small.
I don't allow myself to stare.
"The direction," I say quietly. "You saw where it went, didn't you?"
The Knight nods.
He already understands.
I stand.
Turn away from the grave.
Cold serenity settles over me like frost.
"All right."
"Let's go hunting."
—
Present day. Midnight.
The process has been slow.
I still do not know the full range of my detection spell.
Only that it is insufficient.
Perhaps that is mercy.
The Knight follows the physical trail, though tracking is not his strength.
Then—
Four white lights.
Clustered.
Close.
And beside them—
That red light.
Then—
Two white lights vanish.
No scream reaches me.
No sound at all.
They simply disappear.
My body moves before my mind does.
My hand extends.
The air condenses.
Ice forms.
Not as before.
Larger.
Denser.
Colder.
A spear takes shape—far beyond what I normally cast.
I do not question it.
I throw.
The night splits.
The impact, as it carries the red light and shakes the forest.
The red light stutters.
But it does not fade.
It regenerates.
Slower.
Something inside me tightens.
Not thought.
Not anger.
Something more instinctual.
Within me—
A faint green light flickers.
The ice around my feet spreads further than intended.
Cracking the earth.
Before I step forward, The Knight launches his attack, passing through the opening left in the walls of the house.
I walk forward—no rush, no hesitation.
As I approach, the two remaining white lights come back into view.
I step inside.
Two little girls.
Alive.
But when I look at their faces— They are not theirs.
One face.
Younger.
Bloodier.
Quieter.
For a moment, my breath forgets how to exist.
As the world narrows, I force my eyes away and walk back into the night, into the red light, and into the battle.
Back in the battle…
The red light crashes through trees as the ice spear carries it deeper into the forest.
Wood splinters.
Branches snap.
Then—
Silence.
For half a second.
The Knight is already there.
Steel sings.
The creature howls.
Not in pain but irritation.
The red light writhes as flesh knits itself back together around the spear embedded through its torso. Limbs twist at wrong angles before snapping back into place.
Its eyes look back at the place from where the spear came.
Hungry.
Confused.
"Another one," it rasps, recognizing the existence of a second being, apart from the Knight
The Knight doesn't answer, just analyzes as the creature tears the spear from its body.
The wound closes instantly.
Then the Knight's arrows strike — pinning its shoulder, its thigh, its side — forcing it back against a tree.
It laughs.
The tree rots very slowly but steadily where the creature's blood touches it.
Then it sees a young man step into the clearing.
Kato POV
I step forward. The ground freezes beneath each step.
"Ice won't kill me," it says.
I raise my hand again. Not ice this time.
Sparks gather. Rough. Unstable.
And then they ignite. Fire erupts before it even leaves my hand.
Not careful. Not measured. Not calculated.
Just raw force.
The flames strike the creature squarely, wrapping its torso in blistering heat. Flesh melts and twists, smoke curling upward, yet it struggles to stay upright.
The Knight moves like a shadow beside me, blades slashing through claws and limbs. The impact echoes, rattling the trees.
The red light twists. Limbs flail. It roars—jagged, filled with irritation, not pain.
I step forward. Ice cracks beneath my boots. Fire licks the air around me. I don't pause. I don't think. I don't even weigh the odds.
It strikes at me. I respond instinctively—a pillar of ice erupts from the ground, forcing it to twist midair, a scream swallowed by the night.
The Knight pins it with arrows, keeping it from advancing. Its regeneration is slower now.
I advance again, flames blazing like a river of molten metal. Each strike burns. Reforms. Burns again.
Its eyes meet mine. Mocking. Hungry. Confused.
"You can't kill me!!!" it hisses.
Anger ignites my response. "Let's find out."
I step closer. And release everything.
A sustained inferno. Layer after layer. Fire that bites. Fire that crushes. Fire that consumes. It writhes, struggles, regenerates slower now, unable to keep up with the damage.
The smell of its flesh reaches me but I do not waver.
I keep going until there is nothing left.
Ash drifts from charred branches. The Knight withdraws his weapons.
Silence.
The forest holds its breath.
I lower my hands. The green flicker within me fades—almost satisfied, almost approving.
I breathe. For the first time, I allow myself to feel the weight of what has passed.
The battle is done.
But there is no satisfaction. Only silence.
And then I hear footsteps. Several. Close.
I don't want to be seen. But I am tired.
The Knight—somewhat unnatural—vanishes as if he had never been here.
Without thinking, I do the same. I vanish, just like him.
And once again, a green light flickers from within.
The silence slowly breaks, thick and expectant.
The other villagers arrive at the scene, and are initially shocked by the destruction…
Eventually, the villagers take charge of burying the bodies, but indecision and a lack of commitment lead them to do nothing for the girls. They simply murmur among themselves as they look at them, as if they had become a burden.
Then—movement.
Soft, deliberate.
Footsteps on broken branches, careful, measured.
A man appears at the edge of the clearing. Tall. Stern. His eyes sweep over the charred forest, over the ash that drifts lazily in the moonlight, and finally settle on the devastation where the creature once writhed.
He asks around to piece together the events that took place.
The villagers were absent at the time, so he goes to ask the girls, who are still in shock from the tragedy that befell them.
After a painful narrative, he speaks in a low voice to something.
From beneath his cloak, a black-feathered crow emerges. It perches on his shoulder for a moment before taking flight, wings slicing silently through the night air.
He watches it disappear into the night, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he turns back toward the sisters.
Kato's gaze follows the crow as it arcs above the treetops. It carries a message, he knows.
"There is almost no doubt about where I am, which means that if I follow it… I'll find them."
"The Knight needs their steel."
I follow the crow.
It glides low at first, then rises, keeping the forest between us.
Every branch I pass, every leaf I disturb, I silence with magic, making myself and the silence one.
The Knight remains hidden elsewhere — surely watching from a distance, as he did before.
We keep following the crow for some time.
1 day after…
Ahead, the crow dips toward a distant path, then lands briefly on a post—a marker, unmistakable. Its head tilts, black eyes glinting. Kato knows: the destination lies ahead.
In the distance, several structures and beyond the structures stretches a sea of trees—blossoms like peach trees, but darker. Purple instead of pink.