The wind had died.
Renji stood alone at the edge of a boulder, eyes narrowed toward the valley below.
Through the trees, a daimyo's company moved—slow, but cautious.
Even the gentle clinking of their armor echoed through the stillness.
His gaze was distant.
"Reisou... you're probably still digging, aren't you?
You dug to remember.
I bled to forget.
You stained your hands with earth.
Mine, with blood."
His hand slowly reached for his pocket.
Fingers brushed the old silver pouch he always carried.
But this time, he didn't take it out.
"But this boy… Hayato…"
"There's something in his eyes.
Like he carries the imprint of what we lost."
The sky was gray.
The weight of the air pressed down on him—
but within it, a clear sense of resolve.
He drew a deep breath.
"If he breaks too…
I won't train another soul."
He rose slowly.
Felt the cold weight of his daggers in both hands.
His palms held so much—memory, rage… and maybe a little hope.
He moved toward the marked position below.
As he reached it, Lord Hayama and his men appeared from the other side.
There were no more than twenty—but some wore heavy armor.
At the center rode a noble clad in ornate plate.
Renji's footsteps came to a halt.
The pass no longer breathed.
The sound of footsteps echoed.
Steel plates collided. Shadows marched.
And at their head, proudly walking as before—Lord Hayama.
Still proud. Still careless.
Renji waited in the center of the path.
The wind had gone silent again.
Now, only his heartbeat remained.
"The arrogance in their faces...
How many times have I seen it?"
Lord Hayama curled his lips.
"Stand aside, traveler. Who do you think you are, standing in the path of a noble?
Hey! Are you deaf?"
Renji's eyes narrowed slightly.
He didn't answer.
The lord signaled to two of his men.
They approached, one with a spear, the other with a drawn katana.
But a second later—
—the sound of steel on flesh filled the pass.
And then, silence returned.
Renji had already sheathed his daggers.
He simply exhaled.
His eyes were glowing crimson—
Burning in the shadow of a deep, buried grief.
Level 5. Tier 5.
A faint click echoed.
Lord Hayama recoiled in fear, ready to flee.
"That's the 'Smiling Flame... Renji!'
Attack! All of you, attack!"
His guards froze for a breath.
Renji's eyes narrowed.
So… my name still inspires fear.
A faint curve touched his lips.
Was it a smile… or the weight of memory?
Renji slowly lifted his head and raised a finger toward the sky.
"Now," he whispered.
On the ridge above, between rocks and brush—nineteen figures appeared.
Their bows were already drawn.
The wind was on their side now.
At the front stood Kana.
Beside her, Yui, and Hino Watari.
All ready.
Then—another sound.
A sudden stir behind the enemy formation.
Before the guards could react, a figure stepped through the mist.
Hayato.
His blade was still sheathed—
but his eyes cut sharper than any sword.
Lord Hayama realized he was in the center of a trap.
Renji gave a small smile.
It wasn't a smile of rage.
It was the beginning—
of a vow,
of a bond,
of a war.
And Kana's arrow was the first to pierce the sky.
Next Chapter- Reisou