"Hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue."
(---)
By the time I reached the heart of Suzou, the moon had already staked its claim in the sky, its cold radiance smothering the city in a ghostly glow. Fog coiled through the streets like a living thing, winding around the husks of abandoned market stalls and silent homes. If not for the flickering magical crystal lamps clinging to the walkways like dying fireflies, the place could have passed for a forgotten memory.
I didn't mind. The night and fog were my allies. They lulled people into complacency. Even the wary let their guards slip... eventually.
Then I saw it - looming at the end of the winding path, a silhouette draped in shadow and history: Ame-no-Sakahoko Temple.
A monument to the past, its foundations steeped in myth, the temple crowned Suzou's highest peak like a forgotten deity. Legends say that an ancestral priestess of the Amenohokosaka lineage had driven a divine spear through the heart of a Black Beast here, pinning its writhing form to the land like an insect trapped in amber.
If I moved forward now, I'd be one step closer to my goal.
The stone stairs stretched before me, uneven and worn with age. Each step scraped beneath my boots like bones grinding against each other. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a question surfaced.
"How many places like this have I destroyed before?"
Temples. Bastions. Monuments to the sacred. Places that once stood unshaken against time - reduced to ash and ruin under my pursuit of knowledge.
But sentiment had no place in my mission. Reverence and regret were luxuries for the ignorant.
Eventually, I would have to eliminate the greatest local threat.
Still... the moon seemed brighter tonight.
I looked up. That massive celestial body watched me, cold and unblinking. A memory stirred, unbidden - an abandoned church, training grounds filled with dust and the echoes of old lessons.
A village nearby. Small, tucked away, but never quiet. Laughter. The shrill cries of Kaka kittens scampering through the streets. My sisters twirling in playful dances beneath festival lights.
"Big brother!" - Sellen, always affectionate.
"Brother." - Selene, always curious.
I exhaled sharply. "Damn it. Why am I thinking about this now?"
Frustrated, I sent a loose stone skidding down the stairs. It vanished into the fog below, swallowed without a trace.
By the time I reached the entrance, my thoughts had settled into cold steel once more.
The temple's doors were more than mere barriers - they were a warning. A vast slab of reinforced metal, its surface etched with intricate Mystic Code seals. One careless step, and I would have been nothing more than a stain on the stone.
"That was close," I muttered, relieved my mindless wandering hadn't gotten me killed.
It took only moments to impose my own Mystic Code over the seal, unraveling the lock with minimal effort.
Except-
"Huh?"
The seal was already inactive.
A prickle of unease crept up my spine.
Something's wrong.
But when is it ever right?
I placed both hands against the heavy door and pushed. It groaned open, its hinges whispering like a dying breath.
Inside, only darkness.
"This is... strange."
No priests. No guards. No signs of recent activity. The temple should have been a fortress - yet it lay hollow and silent, like a corpse left to rot.
I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the quiet.
"Hello! The famed Prodigy of the Mage's Association is here! I came to give you all a private lesson!"
Silence.
"Excuse me! Your food delivery has arrived!"
Still nothing.
My fingers instinctively twitched toward Fireseal's hilt. Something was very wrong.
A faint beep.
I reached into my coat, pulling out a sleek, black communicator - Selene's handiwork.
Static crackled in my ear.
"Sh--ion... ---ope... ---ful with----... ---no is--.... --gnus---..."
Then silence.
I don't know much about how this little thing operates, but from what Selene explained, when something like this happens, it means I'm in a "dead zone."
I clenched my jaw.
I stowed the communicator and pressed on, hand resting on my weapon.
The temple smelled of burnt incense. Its pillars stood tall, adorned with religious carvings, while the tatami mats beneath my boots whispered with each step.
But this was just the facade.
I knew the truth.
Cathedrals like this were always the same, their true purpose hidden beneath layers of history. I'd seen enough of them to recognize the pattern.
We, mages, call these places "Cathedrals" because they are the most religiously utilized sites across various cultures worldwide. Always built atop ley lines that flow beneath the ground like rivers. The acclaimed "Dragon's Meridian."
But, alas, I reached the final door at the corridor's end. Warm light bled from its edges, casting soft glows onto the stone.
And yet - I hesitated.
Why?
I exhaled, rolled my shoulders, and placed a hand on the door.
A single image burned in my mind: a sun, devouring everything, reducing all to nothing.
Then-
"RAAAAAAARGH!"
I shoved the door open, swinging Fireseal in a brutal arc-
CLANG-!
Steel met steel.
Sparks flared, illuminating the chamber in a burst of orange light. My rectangular blade clashed against a slender longsword, its bluish-white edge humming with electric power.
And then - laughter.
Low. Amused.
The kind of chuckle that sent a chill down my spine.
The man before me stood tall, unshaken. His blond hair caught the light in a golden halo, his blue eyes sharp as ice. A pristine white cape draped over his shoulders, the fabric barely rustling as he adjusted his stance.
I knew that sword.
I knew him.
"Heh... Is this how you greet people? You never change, do you, Prodigy?"
"...Kyrie!?"
Kyrie Hansen.
A name that once carried weight like a hammer against steel. A warrior so revered that his mere presence could silence a battlefield. Commander of the Order of the Holy Knights of Whitewood.
One of the Empire's most decorated legends.
And yet, here he was.
"Why the hell are you here!?"
His smirk widened. "Why?"
His grip on his blade relaxed - just slightly.
"I came to see you, Shelion Burgundy."
My stomach twisted.
"You've been... waiting for me?"
Kyrie's blue eyes gleamed.
"Mmhmm. Though I must say, I'm impressed."
He tilted his head, studying me with quiet amusement.
"The famed 'Prodigy.' One of the Nine Heroes. You tear through high-level Magecraft like they're children's puzzles... but I wonder..."
His smirk deepened.
"How much of that reputation is still deserved?"
A taunt. A challenge. The same arrogance that had always burned in him, ever since we were children.
My grip on Fireseal tightened.
"Shut up...! I have questions for you. But-"
I pressed forward, straining against the deadlock of our blades.
"...But?" His voice was smooth. Calculated.
I bared my teeth. "I think I'll have to force the answers out of you!"
Kyrie laughed. A low, wicked sound.
"Hahaha... As expected. En garde, Hero!"
Then he surged forward.
His blade flashed like lightning - so fast my instincts barely had time to catch up.
Damn, he's fast-
Steel screamed as I parried at the last second, my feet sliding back from the sheer force of his attack.
"Haha! Give me your best shot... I'll be delighted to rid the world of your existence!"
His next strike came with monstrous power, and before I could fully brace, I was launched backward. Air rushed past me as I twisted midair, landing hard but skidding into a low crouch.
No hesitation. I launched a counterattack.
Flames roared to life, erupting from Fireseal as I swung. The heat shimmered, distorting the space between us.
But-
Kyrie cut through my flames like they were nothing.
A crackling surge of electricity burst through the dissipating fire, and he was already on the move.
I clicked my tongue, summoning a spirit familiar - a green wisp of ethereal energy - and sent it hurtling toward him.
The familiar detonated on impact, sending a blade of wind slicing into his chest. Kyrie staggered back, teeth bared, lightning flickering wildly around him.
Now.
Fireseal's flames surged forward, morphing into the shape of a massive beast's maw - a predator of black fire lunging to devour him whole.
For a moment, I thought I had him.
Then-
BOOM.
From within the inferno, lightning exploded outward, splitting the fire apart in a dazzling burst of raw power. Kyrie emerged, completely unharmed, his sword wreathed in crackling arcs of energy.
"Hah. You'll need more than that to stop me."
Damn his Magic Resistence.
I exhaled sharply, lowering my stance. This was going to be a long night.
Kyrie's stance wavered slightly - his body was feeling the impact - but his grip on his blade only tightened. His gaze burned - not with desperation, but with unrelenting determination.
Before he could charge again, a silver shield materialized on my left arm, emblazoned with an eagle crest.
Just in time.
Kyrie closed the gap in an instant, his sword slamming into my shield with a force that sent shockwaves through my bones. The impact rattled my entire frame, my boots skidding against the cold tatami floor.
He didn't stop.
Every strike carried monstrous power - calculated. Merciless. His relentless swordplay forced me onto the defensive, sparks flying as our blades clashed again and again.
I was at a disadvantage in raw strength. But brute force alone never decided battles.
Then-
I noticed something.
He's not using his other sword...?
Kyrie wielded his blade like an extension of his will, but it wasn't his strongest weapon. His second sword - the one that could summon fire capable of rivaling even my own flames - remained yet to be seen.
Why?
A mistake? No - Kyrie wasn't careless. He was holding back. Or worse - waiting for something.
I would make him regret it.
I lunged, Fireseal a blinding streak in the dim light.
Kyrie met my charge with a grin, his confidence unshaken.
Steel met steel - sharp, deafening, final. Sparks scattered like dying stars as we clashed, his strikes pressing down with brutal force. But I had him now.
His rhythm. His momentum. He was predictable.
I pivoted at the last second, barely avoiding a diagonal slash, and conjured two bronze disks in my free hand. Magic crackled along their edges as I hurled them straight for his exposed side.
Kyrie's reflexes were near-instantaneous - his sword flashed in a single, fluid motion, shattering the disks before they could reach him. The molten fragments scattered harmlessly across the battlefield.
But I was already moving.
He retaliated, twisting his blade, sending a searing arc of lightning streaking toward me.
I didn't flinch.
Fireseal met the ground with a thunderous impact, flames erupting in a ravenous surge. The black fire coiled and rose, taking shape again into a monstrous maw, lunging for him with snapping jaws.
Kyrie charged straight through it.
His sword tore through the fire-beast's head, slicing the flames apart with a single, decisive motion. He was fast. Too fast.
But that didn't matter.
Because I was already behind him.
The instant he cut down my flames, I moved - silent, precise, using the cover of fire and shadow.
His confidence, his unyielding aggression - it left him blind to the trap I had set.
I struck.
Fireseal roared, its edge igniting in a violent, explosive arc. The force of my attack collided with him like a meteor, the sheer impact launching him backward. His body twisted midair before he slammed into the far wall, stone cracking beneath the impact.
His sword flew from his grasp, embedding itself into the floor several meters away.
Silence.
For a long moment, Kyrie didn't move. Then-
He stirred. Slowly, painfully, he forced himself upright, swaying like a wounded beast. Blood ran down his forehead, staining his cheek, but his eyes still burned with that same unwavering defiance.
His chest heaved with ragged breaths. His muscles trembled from exhaustion.
But still-
He refused to fall.
I exhaled, letting Fireseal's flames slowly recede.
The battle had shifted. He knew it.
Still, I sheathed my sword.
Kyrie laughed. A hollow, rasping sound.
"What's the matter, Hero?" he panted, swaying on his feet. "Hahaha... You're not going to finish me off?"
"I need answers," I said, voice low. "I'm not here for you. If you want to die, do it alone."
His laughter turned bitter.
"So soft... You're too soft, Shelion Burgundy... Hahaha..." His usual righteous arrogance cracked, revealing something far uglier beneath. "That's why you try so hard - but never protect anything... or anyone... Guh-!"
My fist crashed into his face before he could finish.
Kyrie hit the ground with a thud, breath knocked from his lungs. He didn't move.
"Shut up," I muttered. "And get some sleep."
I turned away, stepping into the Cathedral's shadowed halls. My heart pounded, not from exertion, but from something deeper - something gnawing at me.
Tch. Dammit... Dammit! Damn it! Why the hell do I hold back on him!?
Then - a sound echoed through the cold, empty cathedral.
Pain no longer mattered.
Because the fight wasn't over.
Not yet.
(... ... ...)