Silas dropped to one knee, breath rasping. The mask of control he'd worn until now began to crack. His body trembled, blood hissing as it sealed open wounds. Then something behind him shattered. A faint echo rolled through the swamp. He turned, slow and heavy, toward the sound.
Ren stood there. The blood that pooled at his feet rose like mist, threading into his palms. He drank it without hesitation. The taste burned down his throat, thick and metallic, but his veins surged with new strength. He exhaled, steadying his breath. A faint smile touched his lips.
"I appreciate you saving my life, Commander. I had a chance to discover myself. Watching this display of strength… it made me realize the peaks one can reach alone." Ren stood upright, though his balance faltered for a moment. The remnants of frozen armor on his body cracked apart and melted into water that bled down his arms.
Silas tilted his head. "Fool. You'll die anyway. Your body will reject the blood." He sighed, almost disappointed. "It pains me to see you lose your life like this. Unsatisfying. There's no honor in desperation."
"Screw your honor. I just wanted to take your life."
Ren's arm extended, water spiraling from his fingertips before solidifying into a sleek, crystalline edge. Crystalis returned to his grasp, glinting with a faint white glow that pulsed with his heartbeat.
Silas watched him. "The battle is over. Rest in peace. It doesn't have to be painful. You don't deserve it like the others."
Ren's mana surged. The air crackled cold as ice formed in streaks through the mist, hardening into deadly icicles that tore toward Silas. They punctured his flesh, frost spreading from each wound.
Silas stepped forward through the barrage, his face set in calm fury. Blood rose from beneath him and shaped into a blade that pulsed like a living thing. He swung, the weight splitting the air, but Ren met the blow. Crystalis screamed against the blood-forged edge, shards of frost scattering.
Ren shifted, feet sliding through the mud. He twisted low and drove his sword into Silas' side, freezing the motion of his right arm. A flash of light and sound erupted as Ren pivoted and severed the limb completely. The strike was clean, the movement precise, and the moment hung in silence before the blood splashed across the ground.
Silas staggered back, crimson rising in streams that coiled together to form a new arm. The smell of iron thickened in the air.
Ren steadied his breath and drove Crystalis deep into the earth. "This strength won't last long. It's my final attempt to destroy you, Silas. I may die, but I can't accept death while your heart still beats." Frost began crawling outward from his feet, spreading in delicate patterns that devoured the ground.
Silas clenched his jaw as his newly formed hand twitched. "How many times will you use the same trick?"
Ren didn't answer immediately. He dropped to one knee, resting both hands over Crystalis' hilt. His breath turned to mist. "It's not the same," he said quietly. "It's the truth."
The frost erupted. It surged like a tidal wave, freezing Silas' domain of blood in a single instant. The ice climbed higher, covering walls, ceiling, and swamp alike until the world itself turned white. Silas raised a barrier of blood, but it shattered like glass under the spreading cold.
He tried to move. Nothing responded. The ice had claimed him from the feet up, reaching his throat, his eyes, his crown.
"Absolute Zero," Ren whispered.
The words carried no echo, only silence. The world stopped moving.
The ice on Ren's skin hissed and melted into rivulets that ran down his arms. He stayed still a moment, hands braced on the hilt sunk in the earth. Crystalis glinted faintly where it vanished into the ground.
The frost around Silas' throat cracked and fell away. He exhaled like someone finally letting out a held breath. His eyes slid upward, and for the first time they were not only calculating. They were small and human and raw.
"This power…" he said, voice thin. The words trembled at the edge of meaning.
"It's over," Ren said. His voice had no triumph. Only cold resolve. Heat and chill fought under his skin. The foreign blood roiled through him like a bright, wrong tide. It made his joints ache and his vision blur at the edges. He swallowed the burn and stepped forward anyway.
Silas flexed his muscles, as if raw will could pry him free. The ice held him fast. He struck and struck, soundless fists against the white, until energy left his shoulders and settled into a strange, still quiet.
Ren stumbled, coughs spitting black flecks into the mud. He tasted iron and frost and the faint tang of blood that was not his. Pain pressed under his ribs, a tightness that would not be loosened. He forced his legs to move and closed the distance to Silas' frozen shape. "Your kind was named for the blight it spread on humanity," he said. "Chaos and nothing more."
Silas blinked. The word cut him. For one breath he let shame show where there had been steel. "I am… a human," he whispered. The sound was small and oddly fierce.
Ren stopped. His brow pulled low and his eyes searched the floor like someone looking for a lie. "What?" He did not hurry. He listened for the trick.
"I admit defeat by your hand, Natsume." Silas closed his eyes. "There is no reason to lie."
Ren made a sound that was almost a laugh and almost a cough. "You're like Clyde," he said quietly. "Why did you do it? Did you work with him?"
Silas' breath came colder now, a slow exhale. "I served my king of my own will. He wanted destruction. I followed because my life had been a series of wounds. I expected ruin. I wanted the rotten to know sorrow." His hands trembled once. "It seemed fair then."
Ren shook his head, not with pity but with a measured dislike. "You are a hypocrite," he said. "You chose corruption and called it change."
Silas' jaw tightened. The confession came out like ash. "It did not matter how. Only that it was done. I told myself the ends made the means righteous. But I was wrong. There is good here. People like you prove it. I cannot undo what I made. Dying at your hand feels… fitting. I will not ask for mercy. I do not deserve it."
The ice began to weep at the base of his neck. It slipped him down, leaving him on cold stone. His shoulders shook with a ragged breath. Tears did not fall. He did not waste that motion. Regret sat in him like a heavy stone. For a man who had rarely shown a crack, the crack carved a face.
"Then do it yourself," Ren said. His eyes did not burn. They held a hard, narrow light. "You have not earned forgiveness. End your life. Pay the price you chose." He turned his back to the plea as if distance could make the answer easier.
Silas set both palms flat and bowed his head. "I understand." His voice was steadier now, a dry sort of peace. "One warning. If your friends do not grow past you, they will fall beneath the king." His hands opened like a man giving up a last thing. "If I am to die, kill him."
Ren listened. He did not argue. He let the words sit in the air without reply.
Silas' blood rose in his palms, a slow, solemn movement. It gathered into a narrow blade, its edge a dark promise. He lifted it without hesitation and pressed the point beneath his ribs. The motion was deliberate, almost ceremonial. The blade slid in, warm and quick. Blood ran down his fingers and down his chest in a thin, tidy line.
Ren stepped across the icy spill and moved to where Virgil lay. The commander was wet with frozen crust and slow breaths. Ren slid Virgil's shoulders, hauled him upright, and eased him down against the wall. The man's eyes fluttered but did not focus.
Silas' knees hit the floor with a soft, final sound. He did not scream. He only let his head drop and watched a small leak of red bead from his lips.
Ren straightened. His veins still sang with cold. "I said I would take care of him, Lyra." he said, the words so soft they almost vanished into the dripping air. His voice had no flourish. Just the blunt, unshowy promise of a soldier keeping an account.