Kaelion lunged at me in a flash, his eight blades moving in a relentless storm of steel. I parried the critical blows with my single katana, dodging the rest by mere inches, or deflecting them just enough to reduce the damage.
His speed… his strength… they were beyond what I'd faced before. This wasn't like that other Pill devourer. Kaelion hadn't just grown stronger—he'd become a true monster.
I was barely holding on. I thought I could beat him… but now? Now I was just buying time, praying that help would arrive.
Why hasn't anyone shown up?
Then it hit me.
This whole area—it's under a barrier. The city outside probably can't see or hear anything. That explains the strange silence. And… that masked man. I glimpsed something strapped to his left wrist. I squinted—barely caught a glimmer of light from a tiny lens.
A camera?
He's recording this… or livestreaming it. But for who?
I didn't have time to think.
Kaelion pressed forward, his movements blurring.
"Die already!" he snarled, his blades screeching as they crashed against mine.
I held my ground, breath ragged, muscles screaming. Blood dripped from cuts I didn't remember receiving. And yet, something inside me... smiled.
I'm still standing.
Kaelion halted suddenly, narrowing his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
I nearly collapsed, but forced myself upright. I smirked, blood trailing down my lip.
"The name's Renji."
Kaelion tilted his head. "Tch. Fine."
He surged forward again. I barely blocked his blade, then jumped back. He grinned wildly, eyes burning with murderous intent.
"Let's go all out."
And he meant it.
He moved like a tempest, attacks flowing into one another with terrifying grace. I couldn't even see the gaps between strikes anymore. Every slash blocked my counters, every feint nearly ended me. I was dodging by instinct, by millimeters, my body reacting on the brink of death.
And then—CRACK!
His boot slammed into my stomach. I hadn't seen it. My body flew like a ragdoll, crashing into the ground near the civilians.
Blood sprayed from my mouth.
Damn it… I didn't anticipate that.
I struggled to rise. I have to protect them... I have to—
My knees shook. My sword trembled in my hand.
Kaelion stepped forward, blades folding around him. A new stance. One I hadn't seen before. A killing stance.
This is the end?
"No—!" I screamed, charging.
"Demonic Art: Territory of Blades."
Kaelion unleashed it.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of blood blades erupted, flying in all directions. Crimson steel burst from beneath our feet, from above, from behind. It was like standing inside a living vortex of slaughter.
People screamed for only a second.
Then silence.
When I opened my eyes, I was the only one still breathing.
Barely.
My body was shredded. I lay in a pool of my own blood, every heartbeat a thunderclap of agony. And in my mind… I saw them.
Smiles—soft and warm.
Laughter—light and clear.
Gentle moments—quiet and meaningful.
Warmth—like a comforting fire.
Gratitude—silent and deep.
Isabelle. Amelie. Lucian. Evelyn. Everyone.
Dragging myself to my feet, each step a struggle under the weight of pain and sorrow, I slowly made my way toward where they'd been.
And when I arrived…
I fell to my knees.
No one had survived.
Lucian. Evelyn. The others. Their bodies were torn apart, twisted into unrecognizable shapes. Amelie and Isabelle lay beside each other, hands clasped even in death.
I stared.
I couldn't cry.
I couldn't scream.
Then it hit.
A guttural, broken sound ripped from my throat. Rage, sorrow, grief—they all blended into one terrible wail as I pounded the blood-soaked ground.
Kaelion and the masked man just stood there, watching.
My mind echoed with the old man's words: Lose the light… and you fall into true despair.
Now I understood.
There was no more light.
Only a void.
Not darkness—something worse. Indifference. Emptiness.
I stood, eyes dead. My soul… hollow.
The masked man stepped away from Kaelion.
We stared at each other.
He saw it too.
I wasn't going to run.
But I wasn't thinking about Kaelion anymore.
I thought about my choices.
If I hadn't let the girls go with those guards… Would they have lived?
If we'd attacked Kaelion together… Would we have stood a chance?
If I had just been stronger...
But the truth was clear now.
I'm a killer.
I don't deserve warmth. Or love. Or hope.
There was only this—pain, void, solitude.
If I am the one who kills and am prepared for it, then... I must also be ready to die.
Only the strongest survive.
I drew my katana from its sheath.
Both the sheath and the blade glowed with a crimson light, transforming—sharp, raw, primal, just as they were meant to be. I felt strength surge through me like never before.
Kaelion smirked. He formed blades of blood again and launched them at me.
I didn't flinch.
I simply smiled and dodged every blade.
None of them touched me.
His eyes widened.
"What the hell?"
In a rage, he lunged forward.
"You're dead!"
He swung down—but I was already behind him.
I slid my katana back into its sheath.
He froze.
"What…?"
He looked down. Then up. He couldn't move.
"I don't understand… how did you—"
Blood gushed from his neck—an immaculate cut.
His head remained on his body for a moment longer…
Then fell.
"You… monster…" he gasped as he faded into black mist.
I took his soul sphere. Absorbed it. Screamed silently from the pain.
But endured.
The masked man clapped.
"You exceeded my expectations," he said calmly. "I'm surprised."
He stepped forward, pulling a black top hat from a shadowy portal and placing it atop his head.
"I go by Arlecchino," he said with a grin beneath the mask. "Join me."
"No."
He tilted his head. "Pity."
Suddenly, he closed the distance and kicked.
I blocked—but was sent flying into the barrier, bones groaning.
One clean hit like that, and I'd die.
"You're finished," he said coldly.
Thin threads of shimmering energy extended from his fingers. They shot toward me like razors.
No… not yet…
Time slowed.
Everything—every thread, every flick of his hand—became clear. I saw two seconds into the future. Every possible trajectory, every option.
I moved.
Not away.
Toward them.
Arlecchino blinked. "What?"
I parried, sliced through the threads with surgical precision. More came—I weaved, cut, dodged.
Buildings were torn apart, sent flying at me. I dashed, jumped, cleaved through debris and thread alike.
"How…?!" Arlecchino hissed.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was too focused.
I was faster than I'd ever been. Sharper. Deadlier.
I saw a white line—a thread—leading straight to his throat.
Summoning my courage, I struck where the thread pointed.
But he parried the blow with a cane that appeared out of nowhere.
We collided and began exchanging blows.
He danced like a phantom, fluid and unpredictable. Behind the mask, I knew—he was enjoying this.
I dodged, saw another line—but it vanished as I moved. He blocked again.
He's not even using his full strength…
I can't kill him like this.
Still—I pressed on.
But then—
The barrier shattered.
Dozens of figures appeared behind me—awakeners. High-ranked. Alice among them.
Arlecchino stepped back, bowed theatrically.
"This performance ends here," he said.
He threw a glowing green orb to the ground.
Green smoke burst out from it.
Alice lunged at him—
but he vanished into the green smoke.
And me?
I blacked out.
Just before losing consciousness,
I told myself:
I'm pathetic.
This will never happen again.