Shadows in the Rain
Rain had softened the forest floor overnight, turning every fallen leaf into a silent sponge beneath Light's boots. The morning mist still clung low, curling like phantom fingers across the mossy ridge where he crouched—high above the Empire's main war encampment. From his hidden perch, Light had a perfect view of the organized chaos below: armor being polished, tents adjusted, horses groomed. But none of it mattered now. All focus had shifted the moment the badge was seen.
Down there, every face had changed.
When the imperial insignia—a coded metal badge taken from a dead assassin—had been spotted dangling from Light's chest, the entire courtyard fell into a stunned hush. Eyes had widened. Some even stepped back. Whispers spread like wildfire:
> "That badge… that's elite rank..." "Is he one of them?" "But with her…?"
The most surprising part wasn't just that Light held that badge.
It was that the emperor's sister stood beside him.
The same woman known for appearing and disappearing from battlefields like smoke. The assassin queen. The youngest blood relative of the imperial line. The woman who answered to no one.
> "Why is he with her?" "Who is he really?"
And yet—no one dared ask.
Not a single guard, commander, or even one of the emperor's sons raised a question.
No challenge.
No welcome.
Just silence… and the quiet shifting of stances as soldiers parted to let them pass.
---
Light's Thoughts:
> "They won't say it out loud," he thought, walking beside her under growing clouds, "but they're all afraid. Not of me… but of her. And maybe now, because of that badge."
---
As they moved deeper into the camp, the winds picked up. Flags began to flutter harder. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled low. A drizzle started—thin and cold, but growing steady.
By the time Light reached the tent assigned to him, rain had begun to patter on the canopy above, a dull rhythm matching the quickened pulse in his chest.
Inside, he was alone.
No guards. No questions. Just a dimly lit tent, a folded blanket, and a single stool beside a low table with warm tea already waiting.
He sat down slowly.
> "They don't know what to do with me," Light realized. "So they're buying time."
> "He wasted no time. Focus activated. Cool Mind steadying him. His breath slowed…"
From this silent center, he began to listen.
---
Outside, despite the weather, camp life stirred.
Two soldiers passed near his tent, voices muffled by the canvas.
> "Did you see his badge? That wasn't fake..." "Why didn't the second prince react?" "Because she vouched for him. That means he's fireproof—for now."
Another group argued near the supply tent.
> "We don't need her interfering. This is about the princes, not her shadow games." "Shut up. Do you want to disappear in your sleep?"
Something had changed.
> "A new army's coming," whispered a soldier in passing, unaware Light was listening from the shadows above. "Not reinforcements… something else."
Within the camp, trumpets rang — deep, war-forged tones that made even seasoned knights shift uncomfortably. The imperial banners, usually still, now flapped violently in the wind.
A new squad entered from the western path — thirty men in black and silver gear. Sleek armor. No crests. No banners. Only one small emblem on their chestplates: a burning crown pierced by a spear.
The camp commander stepped forward.
> "Name yourselves."
The lead rider dismounted — a man in his late 30s with slick gray-streaked hair, face lined with cold precision.
> "Commander Rhyst of the Silent Fang," he said. "By order of His Majesty, we are here on a sanctioned hunt."
> "Target?" someone asked.
> "The Rebellion King."
A wave of murmurs broke out across the camp.
Light thought.
> "So the emperor sends ghosts... but not for glory. Just blood."
Farther away, near a stone watchtower, voices rose in tension.
> "...Fang unit arriving was enough. Now she's here too? Who else is coming?" "The Rebellion King's drawing them all out."
Light narrowed his eyes.
Another faction?
Or a message?
This… felt like blood was coming.
He shifted slightly, trying to catch the faces of those reacting below. And then he saw them—three different clusters within the imperial army. Each belonged to a different royal child.
And in one of the more distant pavilions, Light caught a deeper voice—calm but sharp, unmistakably Prince Uji:
🔻 Prince Uji's Camp
The second son, Uji, handsome and composed, stood beneath a silk-draped pavilion. His soldiers were the best dressed, well-fed, and looked more like nobles than warriors.
He sipped from a jeweled cup and whispered to his scribe:
> "Father's testing us. This isn't about killing the rebel… it's about who reacts."
He walked calmly to his map table and began rearranging chess-like pieces.
> "If the Fang fails, we strike. If they succeed, we praise. Either way, we gain."
His advisor nodded. "Shall I inform the Rebellion spies of the Fang's presence?"
Uji smirked. "No"
🔻 Prince Vitas's Camp
The first son, tall and wide-shouldered, his body a moving mountain, was sharpening a massive axe when he heard the name Silent Fang. His men stiffened. His lips curled into a frown.
> "So Father sends ghosts to do what I could've done with a march…" he muttered.
His lieutenant leaned in. "Shall we send a protest, Your Highness?"
> "No," he grunted. "Let the ghosts do their dance. Then we'll take the credit when the smoke clears."
> " And Keep the daughters distracted. Send gifts to Riko. Siko will take offense. Let them fight. We'll gain the middle."
🔻 Prince Nit's Camp
The third son, Nit, thin and pale with razor-sharp eyes, stood beside a burning firepit with several women and old warriors. He was the most mysterious — quiet, but observant.
One of his aides whispered, "Silent Fang's arrival could shake troop morale."
Nit didn't reply. He just tossed a scroll into the fire and whispered:
> "If Father plays with shadows…."
🔻 Princesses' Tents
On the far eastern ridge, the two imperial daughters' personal guards argued.
One daughter, Siko — the eldest — had already sent scouts to tail the Silent Fang. The second daughter, Riko — the so-called Beautiful Bastard — stood alone, arms crossed, watching from atop a hill. Her steel eyes caught Light's attention even from afar.
Light opened his eyes slowly.
> "They're all playing different games," Light thought. "And none of them trust each other. Everyone's hiding daggers behind their smiles."
From the middle of the camp, one of the Silent Fang soldiers unrolled a sealed scroll and nailed it onto a wooden post for all commanders to read.
Light focused his eyes and lip-read from a distance.
> "Authorized Termination Mission."
"Subject: R.K."
> "Elite operatives only."
Light blinked.
> "R.K. — Rebellion King."
Light's Thoughts
> "So this is the Empire's plan… not unity, but competition. Father sets the hunt. His children fight for the prize like dogs."
> "If they knew who the Rebellion King really Come here, would they still be this careless?"
> "Or is that the point?"
Light's instincts flared.
> "This won't stay quiet. The princes will move. The daughters will plan. The Fang will strike."
> "And I'm in the middle of all of it."
This wasn't war.
This was politics sharpened into steel.
And he had just stepped into its heart.