Kiseki's vision slowly returned, but his mind remained shrouded in dread. For the first time in years, he felt the crippling weight of mortality.
The evening his father fell to the masked killer flooded back. Fear's dark tendrils wrapped around his heart.
As Kushino approached, Kiseki's thoughts fragmented. "Grandfather, please, come... Mom... Dad... Tenjin..." Desperation clung to the names, a silent plea for salvation.
Kushino reveled in Kiseki's terror. "What a shame indeed."
"I could cut you into squares at any moment, but... you know, kid... I have a friend who'd just love to meet you." Kushino's words dripped with sadistic amusement. He strolled to the King's throne, dismissing the monarch's lifeless body with a careless toss.
The throne creaked beneath Kushino's weight as he settled in. "Join my family," Kushino offered, his voice laced with sinister intent.
Kiseki's left hand instinctively grasped his wounded right shoulder. The left elbow blade lay abandoned on the floor.
Kushino's gaze lingered on Kiseki's vulnerable form. "Refuse, and you'll join your King," Kushino's smile twisted. The throne room fell silent, awaiting Kiseki's rresponse
Kushino's horns vanished, and his ring blade, once a blur, plummeted. It embedded itself in a deceased soldier's body with a sickening thud. Kushino's expression transformed to innocent surprise. "Oh, would you look at that!"
Kiseki, now holding both elbow blades, snarled, "Become your friend?" He rose, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "I wanted to chop off your horns, but they were some freaky technique, weren't they?"
Kushino shrugged jovially. "Well, what can I say? I'm more of a sweetheart than a demon."
"Sweetheart?" Kiseki repeated, incredulous. His elbow blades whirred to life, rotating as a warm-up. With a battle-ready stance, Kiseki sneered, "I'm taking your head this time, ugly hornless freak!"
Kushino's face darkened, offended. He stood, grasping his ring blade, its inner frame glittering with colored stones. "It's KUSHINO," he emphasized, voice low and menacing.
With a fierce tug, Kushino freed his ring blade from the soldier's gut. The sound of steel sliding through flesh echoed through the throne room. Kushino's eyes blazed. "You should have kept your mouth shut, Kiseki Indomu."
The air crackled with tension. Kaito and Aka frantically pounded on Kiseki's door. "Old man Indomu! Old man Indomu!" they bellowed.
Kiseki's grandfather, weary, opened the door. "Yes, men of honor? Is it about the weapons? I had Kiseki send the new ones to the palace."
Their distressed faces gave him pause.
"Uh, is it... something else?"
Kaito's voice cracked. "A terrorist is in the King's Palace! And so is Kiseki!"
The old man's eyes widened in horror.
Aka and Kaito exchanged shame-filled glances.
"We told him to go home but...," Aka muttered.
Kiseki's grandfather grasped the urgency. "Kiseki..."
Meanwhile, in the throne room...
Kiseki charged forward, his expression focused. Kushino's ring blade gleamed, ready to strike. Their clash would decide the kingdom's fate.
Would Kiseki's training prevail, or Kushino's ruthless power? The outcome hung precariously.
Nethercrimson entered the round-walled room, its ceramic surfaces reflecting the faint light.
A figure sat at the room's center, shrouded in shadows. "Crimson, you finally return," the figure spoke, low and commanding.
Nethercrimson stood still, emotionless. "Yes, father."
As the light grew, the figure's features became clear. The masked one from Kiseki's past sat before him. The same mask, the same aura of menace.
"You went with your brother, didn't you?" the masked one asked.
"Yes, father. He's still acquiring Ganja village."
The masked one's voice held a hint of displeasure. "And for how long have I told you to stay by his side?"
Nethercrimson's response was laced with subtle defiance, "Kushino's a lousy fool. I'd learn more from doing what I need to do."
The masked one's tone turned stern. "Out of the question. He's there to protect you... And he's your superior. Honor that."
Nethercrimson's submission was reluctant. "Yes... father."
The masked one's gaze lingered on his son.
"Leave."
Nethercrimson departed, his obedience a facade. "As you wish, Father."
The masked one's thoughts whispered in the darkness. "Crimson, you're not like the rest of them. You're actually just like me... Tenjin Indomu."
A connection, hidden until now, began to unravel. The masked one's true identity and motives remained shrouded.
But one thing was certain: Nethercrimson's path was intertwined with Kiseki's.
In the next chapter