The market square had settled into an easy rhythm three days following Hayato and Hikari's tense encounter with Nyx. Though the villagers went about their daily business, an unspoken tension lingered in the air. The fear of Nyx's return clung to them like an invisible chain, tightening with each passing moment.
Despite the ever-present unease, Hayato and Hikari moved through the market with purpose. Their attention was fixed on gathering materials—supplies for an invention Hayato had been painstakingly working on for weeks.
Hikari peered over his shoulder, her curiosity barely contained as she watched Hayato examine a small, polished copper coil in the merchant's stall. "So, are you finally gonna tell me what you're making?" she asked, her voice laced with playful suspicion.
Hayato smirked, rolling the coil between his fingers. "It's a surprise."
Hikari crossed her arms, huffing. "Come on, Nii-chan! You've been working on this for weeks, and you're still keeping secrets?"
Hayato chuckled, handing the coil to the merchant in exchange for a bundle of reinforced wires. "It's not a secret, just… not ready yet."
Hikari squinted at him, unconvinced. "You do realize that makes me even more curious, right?"
Shaking his head, Hayato reached into his bag, pulling out a small, half-assembled device. The metallic frame gleamed in the sunlight, its inner components a maze of delicate wiring and carefully arranged energy circuits. The design was sleek but sturdy, built with precision and careful engineering.
Hikari's eyes widened as she took in the unfamiliar structure. "Wait… is this—?"
"A compression gauntlet," Hayato confirmed, rotating the device in his palm. "I've been experimenting with kinetic storage. If I get it working properly, I'll be able to store energy in short bursts and release it when I need to. Think of it like… a shockwave amplifier."
Hikari's mouth parted slightly in awe before a grin spread across her face. "Okay, now that's cool."
Hayato gave a modest shrug, but there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. "If I can stabilize the output, I could use it to enhance my wind strikes. Maybe even boost my agility in a fight."
Hikari reached out, tracing the intricate filigree along the gauntlet's frame. "You always were the tinkerer." Her expression turned thoughtful. "If you link the output to your elemental flow, wouldn't it automatically adjust to your power levels?"
Hayato blinked, then let out a short laugh. "You know, that's actually not a bad idea."
Hikari puffed up proudly. "Please, I'm a genius."
Their lighthearted moment was short-lived.
A familiar sound—a deep, rumbling growl of engines—echoed through the valley, drowning out the soft murmurs of the marketplace. Conversations halted. Merchants stiffened. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface erupted into outright fear.
Hikari felt it first. The shift in the air, the sharp drop in temperature—not physically, but in the way the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
"Hayato!"
Nyx's voice cut through the market like a blade, raw and commanding.
Hayato turned slowly, already knowing what he would see.
Nyx stood at the marketplace entrance, his dark coat swaying with the wind, his presence commanding as ever. His gang flanked him like a pack of wolves, their matching black jackets making them seem like shadows bleeding into the streets.
Hikari's hand instinctively gripped Hayato's sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "Nii-chan… We should go."
Hayato exhaled slowly, the tension in his muscles coiling like a spring. "I'm not running."
Nyx smirked, stepping closer. "You should've taken my offer earlier, Hayato. But now, I'm not asking."
Hayato squared his shoulders, his eyes locked onto Nyx's with unwavering resolve. "Then you'll be disappointed."
Nyx's smirk twitched, his amusement faltering. His dark eyes flickered with something colder, sharper. He let out a slow exhale, then lazily raised a hand.
"Take him down."
The marketplace exploded into motion.
The first thug lunged forward, his grip tightening around a jagged metal pipe as he swung it with all the force of a desperate man. The air whistled as the crude weapon cut through it, aiming straight for Hayato's skull.
But Hayato was faster.
He pivoted smoothly, sidestepping the attack with the ease of someone who had been in far too many fights. The pipe missed him by inches, and before the attacker could recover, Hayato countered—his palm thrusting forward as a sharp burst of wind erupted from his fingertips.
WHAM.
The thug flew backward as if struck by an invisible hammer, crashing through a vendor's stall with an explosion of splintered wood and scattered produce. Vegetables and fabric rained down, rolling across the dirt road in a chaotic mess.
Before Hayato could take a breath, another gang member was already charging from his blind spot, a clenched fist aimed at his ribs.
Tch—sloppy.
The air shifted—Hayato felt it before he saw it. His instincts took over. He ducked low, spinning on his heel, and swept the thug's legs right out from under him. The man barely had time to grunt before slamming into the ground, his back hitting the dirt with a heavy thud.
Not giving him a chance to recover, Hayato pressed his palm against the fallen man's chest and released a concentrated burst of wind. The thug's body convulsed as the air was forcibly knocked from his lungs, leaving him gasping, too winded to fight back.
A flicker of movement—another gang member, rushing straight for Hayato with a rusted knife clutched in his fist.
ZZZT!
A blinding arc of electricity streaked through the air.
The moment the blade came within striking distance, a crackling bolt of lightning surged into the attacker's chest, coursing through his veins like liquid fire. His muscles seized violently, the knife slipping from his fingers as his entire body convulsed under the sudden jolt.
He collapsed to his knees, twitching from the residual static.
Hikari stood a few feet away, her palm still raised, her fingers crackling with blue-white energy. Her eyes, sharp and focused, glowed faintly beneath the electric pulses that ran up her arms like living circuitry.
She didn't stop there.
With a flick of her wrist, she extended both hands outward, and a shimmering barrier of electricity flared to life around the gathered villagers. The energy shield pulsed and sparked, forming a protective dome between the innocent bystanders and the chaos of the fight.
"I've got the crowd!" she called over her shoulder, her voice unwavering. "Focus on the fight!"
Hayato nodded, already shifting his stance as two more enemies came at him.
One came from the front, gripping a heavy iron club, while the other flanked him, poised to strike when he dodged.
But Hayato wasn't planning on dodging.
He inhaled deeply, centering himself—then exhaled, releasing a precise, controlled vortex of wind.
The force erupted outward in a shockwave, sending both attackers flying. Their bodies tumbled across the dirt road, skidding several feet before slamming into the village walls. They groaned, struggling to rise, but the powerful currents of wind still pressing them down made it impossible.
The marketplace was in ruins—overturned stalls, scattered goods, and the groaning bodies of Nyx's men littering the ground. The acrid scent of sweat, dust, and the faint metallic tang of blood clung to the air.
The remaining gang members hesitated. Their bravado cracked, their confidence wavering.
They had underestimated their opponents.
Then, amidst the eerie quiet that followed, a slow, deliberate sound cut through the tension.
Clap.
Clap.
The sharp echo of gloved hands meeting.
A voice followed, smooth and amused, but carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of danger.
"Well, well," Nyx drawled as he stepped forward. "Looks like you haven't gotten rusty after all, Hayato."
The gang leader stood at the edge of the battlefield, his signature dark coat swaying slightly in the wind. His sharp, ink-black eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he took in the damage around him. His enhanced arms flexed at his sides, the metallic plating grinding as the mechanisms within adjusted.
Despite the chaos, he looked unfazed. If anything, he looked entertained.
Hayato's stance remained firm, his glowing markings still pulsing faintly. He ignored the burning sensation in his muscles, the exhaustion creeping into his bones. His eyes were locked onto Nyx, unblinking, unwavering.
"This ends now," Hayato said, his voice cold as steel.
Nyx let out a slow exhale, rolling his shoulders as shadowy tendrils coiled lazily around his arms.
"Oh, I don't think so."
Then—he moved.
The moment Nyx stepped forward, the air shifted. The usual warmth of the market was sucked away, replaced by a suffocating pressure that pressed against Hayato's chest like an unseen weight. The remaining gang members scrambled back, their earlier bravado shattered as they instinctively parted to make way for their leader.
Hayato clenched his fists, steadying his breathing as he watched Nyx approach. The gang leader moved with slow, deliberate steps, his dark coat billowing slightly with each stride. His eyes—cold, calculating, and entirely unreadable—locked onto Hayato like a predator sizing up its prey.
A slow, mocking clap echoed through the ruined marketplace.
"Impressive."
Nyx's voice was as smooth as silk, yet carried an unmistakable edge. He surveyed the destruction around him—the groaning bodies of his fallen men, the debris scattered across the ground, the shimmering electric barrier where Hikari stood protecting the villagers. And, at the center of it all, Hayato—breathing heavily but still standing strong.
"You've gotten stronger since you left," Nyx mused, tilting his head slightly. "I'll give you that. But strength…" His smirk widened, but his eyes gleamed with something more dangerous. "Strength means nothing without control."
Hayato didn't flinch. His markings pulsed with a steady, determined glow as he raised his chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of you, Nyx."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then, Nyx chuckled—a dark, humorless sound that sent a cold shiver down the spines of those still watching.
"You should be."
With a low mechanical hum, the mechanisms in Nyx's gauntlets activated. Jagged obsidian blades shot out from his forearms with a sharp metallic whir, their black edges gleaming menacingly under the dim light. The air around him seemed to ripple, the shadows at his feet writhing unnaturally as if alive.
Hikari gasped, her grip tightening into fists as electricity crackled around her.
Hayato barely had time to process before—
WHOOSH.
Nyx moved.
Faster than before.
A blur of black and silver, he lunged forward with inhuman speed, his twin blades slicing through the air with deadly precision.
Hayato's body reacted on instinct—he barely twisted out of the way as the first blade slashed past his ribs, missing by a hair's breadth. The second strike came immediately after, a brutal downward slash aimed straight for his shoulder.
Not fast enough.
Hayato summoned a surge of wind, twisting his body mid-dodge. A powerful burst of air erupted around him, propelling him backward just in time to avoid being cut open.
The force sent Nyx skidding back slightly, but he hardly reacted—his stance remained unshaken, his smirk unwavering. His enhanced body absorbed the impact with ease, the reinforced plating on his arms gleaming beneath the marketplace lanterns.
"You'll have to do better than that," Nyx sneered, his eyes flashing.
Then, in an instant—
He closed the distance.
Nyx wasted no time pressing the attack, spinning on his heel and slashing horizontally with his left blade. The jagged obsidian edge sliced through the air with terrifying speed, its dark sheen reflecting the faint market lights.
Hayato barely ducked in time, the tip of the blade cutting through a few strands of his white hair. Before Nyx could follow up, Hayato thrust his hands forward, summoning a powerful gust of wind that blasted outward like a shockwave. The force sent dust and debris flying, momentarily obscuring the battlefield.
But Nyx didn't flinch.
The gang leader braced himself, his enhanced body absorbing the brunt of the impact. The wind sent smaller thugs tumbling backward, knocking over market stalls and sending goods crashing to the ground, but Nyx stood his ground, his black coat rippling from the force.
A sneer curled on his lips as the shadows around him pulsed unnaturally. "You'll have to do better than that," he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement.
Raising one arm, Nyx summoned the darkness around him, shaping it into writhing, ink-like tendrils that pooled beneath his feet. The black mist coalesced, twisting and expanding outward like a living wave.
"Abyssal Surge."
The tidal wave of darkness exploded forward, rushing toward Hayato with crushing force.
BOOM!
The impact sent Hayato flying, his body crashing into the dirt before rolling violently across the ground. Dust and shattered debris scattered in all directions as he skidded to a stop near the remains of a shattered cart.
"NII-CHAN!"
Hikari's scream tore through the air, raw with panic. She surged forward, electricity crackling violently around her hands, but Nyx's gang blocked her path.
One of the thugs sneered, crossing his arms as he watched Hayato struggle to rise. "Where do you think you're going, little princess?"
Another laughed cruelly. "Yeah, why don't you stay put and watch? This is just gettin' good."
Hikari clenched her teeth, sparks crackling off her fingertips. But there were too many of them—if she attacked now, she'd be swarmed before she could reach Hayato.
Meanwhile, Hayato coughed, spitting out a bit of blood as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. A fresh cut dripped crimson from his forehead, trailing down the side of his face. His glowing facial markings flickered erratically, his energy surging and waning.
Nyx strolled forward leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. His dark aura intensified, pulsing ominously as he lifted both hands.
"You're not strong enough to beat me," he mused, his voice laced with cruel amusement. "You never were."
Then, with a flick of his wrist, dozens of jagged black spears materialized in the air around him.
Each spear pulsed with raw darkness, their edges sharp enough to carve through solid rock. The moment they finished forming, they hovered ominously for just a second—then shot forward in a deadly storm.
"Shadow Spear Barrage."
The spears rained down, slicing through the air with whistling precision.
Hayato's instincts screamed at him to move.
He sprinted to the side, narrowly dodging the first wave of projectiles. One spear struck the ground where he had just been standing, exploding on impact and sending chunks of dirt flying. Another whizzed past his cheek, close enough that he could feel its cold energy brush against his skin.
But there were too many.
One spear grazed his shoulder, ripping through fabric and flesh alike. A sharp sting shot through his arm, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the pain.
"Tch!"
Nyx didn't let up. He surged forward, moving faster than should have been possible. Shadows curled around his right arm, thickening and hardening into a massive, hammer-like construct that radiated raw destruction.
The weight of it distorted the very air around him.
"Midnight Maul."
He swung the massive weapon downward with all his strength.
CRACK!
The impact shattered the ground, sending violent shockwaves outward in jagged fractures. The entire market trembled, dust and debris erupting into the air like a volcanic explosion.
Hayato barely rolled out of the way in time, the force of the attack still enough to knock him off balance. He landed hard on his side, pain radiating through his ribs.
Nyx straightened, his obsidian blades humming with power, his gaze locked onto Hayato like a predator toying with wounded prey.
"You're out of your league, Hayato," he said, his smirk widening. "You can't win."
Hayato, breathless but defiant, wiped the blood from his chin and pushed himself up once more. His piercing eyes, glowing with determination, never wavered.
"We'll see about that."
Nyx moved like a phantom, his body flickering in and out of the shadows with terrifying speed.
One second, he was standing in front of Hayato—the next, he was gone. The darkness around him pulsed unnaturally, warping and shifting as if alive.
Shifting Shadows.
Before Hayato could react, Nyx reappeared directly behind him, his obsidian blades already mid-swing. The razor-sharp edge caught Hayato across the side, sending him hurtling through the air like a ragdoll.
CRASH!
His back slammed into a stone wall, the impact so forceful that cracks splintered outward from the point of collision. Dust and debris rained down around him as his body slumped to the ground.
His breath came in ragged gasps.
His limbs felt heavy.
Pain radiated through his ribs, sharp and unrelenting, as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth onto the dirt below. His glowing facial markings flickered, their once-vibrant light now a dim, unstable pulse.
Damn it…
A sharp cry pierced through the chaos.
"NII-CHAN!"
Hikari's voice was shrill with panic, her circuits flaring with brilliant arcs of electricity. She tried to charge forward, but before she could reach her brother—
"Where do you think you're going?"
Three gang members stood in her way, preventing her from reaching her brother.
"Stay back, little girl," the thug sneered. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt."
Hikari gritted her teeth, her hands pressing into the ground as sparks flared around her. Her heart pounded against her chest, but even through the fear, rage burned inside her.
She wouldn't sit by and watch.
Not again.
Not when her brother needed her.
Nyx, meanwhile, loomed over Hayato, his shadow stretching long in the dim marketplace light. His jet-black blades gleamed with a cruel, dark sheen as he lifted one high above his head, ready to end it.
"This is the end for you," Nyx growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble.
Hayato barely had the strength to lift his head, but his piercing blue eyes locked onto Nyx's. Even as his vision blurred, even as his body screamed in agony, he still glared defiantly.
If he was going down—he wasn't going down begging.
Then—
The crowd gasped as a figure stepped into the space between them, cloak rippling like storm-split waves. He had emerged as though he'd been stitched into the fabric of the crowd itself—a thread of shadow quietly pulled loose until he stood apart, unmistakably present, like a ghost choosing to become flesh.
The hood concealed his face, but his posture was effortless, dangerous—shoulders relaxed, one hand still raised from catching Nyx's strike barehanded, the other tucked beneath his cloak. For a moment, silence returned, but now it pulsed with something else: a low, thrumming tension. Like the hush before lightning strikes.
"You're a little too eager, aren't you?" the hooded stranger said, voice calm, steady as falling rain.
The air around them thickened, carrying with it an otherworldly presence—something ancient, something powerful. The breeze was sharp, unnatural, almost sentient, twisting through the battlefield like a living force.
Nyx hesitated, his dark aura flickering for just a second. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the surroundings, his instincts suddenly on high alert.
What… is this?
The very ground beneath them trembled slightly, the subtle vibration sending a ripple through the dust and debris. The air crackled—not with Hikari's electricity, but with something even more primal.
The fight had just changed.
And none of them knew why.
No one knew his name.
But from that moment on, the villagers would whisper of the hooded stranger who split a shadow with his hand and halted death mid-strike.
The marketplace had fallen into a stunned silence.
The embers of fallen torches crackled softly in the background, the scent of scorched wood mingling with the dust kicked up from the battle. The villagers stood frozen in place, their gazes locked onto the new arrival. Even the wind itself seemed to hush in reverence.
The hooded stranger's presence was suffocating—not in the way Nyx's oppressive darkness spread like a creeping infection, but in something far more refined. More controlled. It was as if the very air around them bent to their will, moving in rhythm with their measured breaths.
Each step they took was deliberate, effortless. A young man clad in a modern black martial arts outfit designed for both function and intimidation. His hooded uniform, dark and streamlined, clings to his athletic frame, its design accented by subtle gold fastenings and reinforced stitching. The fabric flows like a combat gi but is tailored with a tactical edge, suggesting he's no ordinary fighter. His amber eyes burn with unwavering focus beneath his tousled black hair, and the hood casts a brooding shadow over his sharp features. With a battle-hardened look and quiet intensity, he exudes the aura of a warrior who has trained relentlessly—and isn't afraid to face what comes next.
Nyx, once the embodiment of arrogance and control, instinctively stepped back. His breath hitched—just for a second—but in that moment, it was clear. He had felt it.
The weight of something greater.
For the first time since he arrived in this village, he wasn't the one casting fear.
His expression twisted in irritation as he fought to maintain his composure, shadows writhing defensively around his enhanced arms. His voice was sharp, demanding, but just barely hiding the thinly veiled unease beneath.
"Who the hell are you?"
No answer.
The stranger's golden eyes gleamed beneath the shadow of their hood, piercing and unrelenting. They did not flinch, did not waver—just watched. Studied. As if stripping Nyx down to his very essence, past flesh and bone, straight to the soul.
The silence stretched, the weight of it growing unbearable.
Nyx's fists clenched, frustration flickering across his face. "Tch. What… what are you?"
The stranger did not reply.
Instead, they shifted ever so slightly—one foot forward, a stance balanced between stillness and the promise of devastating force. It was not an overtly aggressive movement, nor a blatant threat. And yet—
The very air collapsed.
It was instantaneous.
An invisible pressure surged outward, thick and crushing, like the gravity of the world itself had folded inward at the stranger's command. The marketplace trembled, dust kicking up in swirling tendrils.
Nyx's entire body seized. His enhanced muscles, built for raw power, failed him. His breath hitched, his vision blurred for a fraction of a second. His knees buckled.
"Gh—!"
His gang—who had moments ago been so sure of their leader's dominance—stumbled back in unfiltered terror. Some clutched their heads as if trying to shield themselves from a force they could not see.
Even Hayato, bruised and battered, felt it.
His wind energy flickered erratically in response, as if his very element was bowing to the overwhelming force before him. He sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers curling into the dirt beneath him. This wasn't mere strength.
This was mastery.
Not just of power. But of control.
Chi—pure, refined energy—flowed effortlessly around the stranger. Unlike Nyx's crude, overpowering darkness, this force felt precise, as if it existed in perfect harmony with the world around it.
Nyx struggled.
His teeth ground together, his veins bulging against his skin as he summoned all the darkness he had. Shadowy tendrils lashed out wildly, desperate to break free. But the moment they met the stranger's presence—
They dissolved.
Faded.
As if they had never even existed.
Nyx let out a snarl, his voice raw with frustration. "Enough!"
The stranger relaxed their stance. And just like that—
The suffocating pressure lifted.
Nyx gasped for air, staggering back, his enhanced body twitching involuntarily from the aftershock. His once-mighty aura flickered unsteadily, like a candle on the verge of going out.
For the first time, his mask of unshakable confidence cracked.
It was brief. A fleeting flicker of fear.
His eyes darted between Hayato and the stranger, searching for something—anything—that could explain what just happened.
His breathing was ragged. His jaw clenched. His ego screamed at him to fight back, to not give in.
But his instincts?
They were screaming louder.
Nyx took a slow step back, his expression darkening. "This isn't over." His voice was lower now, not as sharp, not as confident. More bitter.
The stranger didn't move.
Didn't even acknowledge his words.
Nyx hesitated for only a moment longer before turning on his heel. His remaining gang members, still visibly shaken, scrambled to follow him, their footsteps hurried and uneven. The sound of their retreating vehicles filled the night air, engines roaring as they sped away, disappearing into the distance.
The marketplace remained silent.
No one moved. No one spoke. The villagers, still half in shock, barely breathed. Their eyes flickered between Hayato—bruised but standing—and the hooded stranger who had forced Nyx to flee.
For the first time in a long while…
Nyx had to run.
The marketplace was still. The echoes of the battle had faded, but the tension in the air remained, thick and unshakable. Smoke curled from toppled lanterns, casting flickering shadows against the battered stalls. The scent of charred wood and dust clung to the wind, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.
Slowly, the villagers began to emerge from their hiding places, cautious and hesitant. Some peeked from behind wooden stalls, while others stepped out of doorways, their eyes scanning the scene as if unsure whether it was truly over. Their gazes flickered between the scattered remnants of Nyx's gang and the hooded stranger who had turned the tide.
Hayato leaned heavily against a nearby wall, his breath uneven. His body ached—every bruise, every cut, every strained muscle reminding him of just how close they had come to losing. His wind energy had nearly run dry, his glowing markings dimmed to a faint flicker.
Yet, he was still standing.
His sharp eyes flicked toward the hooded stranger, filled with a mixture of gratitude and wariness.
"Thank you," he managed, his voice rough, each word tasting like dust.
Hikari was at his side in an instant, her glowing blue eyes wide, still charged with lingering energy and adrenaline. Her fingers twitched, her body coiled with unspent tension. She turned her gaze to the stranger, curiosity burning in her expression.
"Who are you?" she asked, taking a step closer. "Why did you help us?"
The stranger stood motionless, their presence still exuding the same unshakable calm they had displayed moments ago. Their golden eyes, sharp and unreadable, flickered toward Hikari for the briefest moment before shifting away.
No response.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Then, without a word, the stranger turned on their heel, their vibrant kimono swaying with each step. The delicate gold embroidery shimmered in the fading torchlight, a stark contrast to the destruction around them.
"Hey!" Hayato called after them, pushing himself off the wall, ignoring the sharp protest of his ribs. His frustration seeped into his voice. "At least tell us your name!"
The stranger paused mid-step. The faintest breeze carried the stillness between them, the world holding its breath.
For a moment, Hayato swore he saw something in their eyes—recognition, hesitation, something unspoken.
But then—
Nothing.
The stranger simply turned away and continued walking, their figure fading into the darkness of the alleyway, swallowed by the very shadows they had emerged from.
Gone.
As if they had never been there in the first place.
Hikari let out an irritated huff, her fists balling at her sides. "What was that about?" she muttered. "He just shows up, saves us, and then disappears without a word? Who does that?"
Hayato exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled white hair, his brows furrowed. "I don't know." His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. His gaze lingered on the empty alleyway, his mind racing with questions.
Who was he?
Why did he help?
And why did his presence feel… familiar?
The wind stirred around them, carrying with it the weight of lingering uncertainty. The battle was over, but the war had only begun.
Nyx would return.
Stronger. Angrier. More ruthless than ever.
And Hayato knew that when that time came, they would have to be ready.
For now, they had survived. And that was enough.
But as he stood there, bruised and battered amidst the wreckage of the fight, only one thought echoed in his mind—
Who was that stranger?
And more importantly…
What was he really after?