He sat on the concrete floor of the well, turning the dagger slightly as his reflection stared back at him. For the first time in years, he was finally able to see what he looked like.
His cheekbones were showing. Too sharp. His face looked hollow, stretched thin like someone who had taken their diet a bit too far. His eyes, once brown, were now a deep crimson—unfamiliar and unsettling.
"…Huh," he muttered. "That's interesting."
He hardly recognized the person staring back.
With a quiet sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. "Do they think I'm a joke?" he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "I made sure to let enough of my presence be known to be a threat, and still, not a single squad leader showed up."
He scratched the back of his head and tilted his gaze upward.
"What about you guys?" he asked calmly.
A dozen of his clan members hung in the air above him, bodies suspended by thin strands of mana, unable to move.
"Do you also think I'm a joke?"
They wore standard black robes.
No artifacts worth mentioning.
They were nothing special.
They were the kind of people no one ever noticed—the ones stuck carrying orders, running errands, and doing whatever the higher ranks told them to do, no questions asked.
"Who are you, brat? Release us right now before we kill you," one of them snapped, twisting against the thin strands of mana wrapped around his arms and chest, almost like prey stuck in a spider's web.
Their struggle only made it worse.
The threads dug deeper, slicing into flesh, coating the strands in thin streaks of blood. The more they fought, the tighter the mana threads pulled.
He stared at them, then at the glowing threads, then back at the man. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second… you realize you're currently tied up by the person you're threatening, right?" he muttered. "Like, this isn't a very strong negotiating position for you."
The man snarled and struggled harder. The threads only tightened, humming faintly as they dug deeper into his skin.
"You crazy kid!" one of them shouted.
"Why are these mana threads so tough?" another muttered, twisting his wrists in panic.
"Let us out now!"
Shiro frowned. "Wow. You guys are terrible listeners," he said calmly, almost disappointed. "I'm standing here, pouring my heart out, and all you want to do is leave. That's just hurtful."
He lifted his hand and gave a small tug with his fingers, like he was pulling on invisible strings.
Their bodies snapped apart midair as the threads tightened, slicing through them like invisible blades.
Piece by piece, parts of them dropped to the floor with soft, wet thuds. Blood poured down in heavy splashes, spreading across the stone floor beneath them.
He sighed. "See? Now the conversation's over, and I didn't even get to the best part." He shook his head. "People these days are so impatient."
A tired tch left his mouth when he noticed a few drops of blood on his new robe. He pinched the fabric between two fingers, frowning. "Not only were you all rude, but now you've gone and gotten my clothes dirty. Seriously, do none of you have manners?"
He stepped past the remains and headed for the mountain peak, the same place he had once watched Rei and Sera meet in that strange dream.
He sat at the edge, one foot dangling over the drop, letting the memory play out again. Only this time, he imagined himself wedged right between them, deliberately ruining the moment.
"Hey, Rei," he muttered, voice dry. "If your eyes were as good as mine, you'd have noticed."
He tilted his head slightly.
"The clan looks almost beautiful from up here."
His eyes drifted to the moon, pale and distant.
"You know, I actually thought about doing what you said," he admitted quietly. "Just walking away. Forgetting the revenge. Slipping off the island like I was never here. Maybe find some quiet town, meet some people, and just… be a normal kid for once. The usual heroic stuff."
His throat tightened, and tears slipped free anyway.
"But I can't."
His fingers pressed hard into his chest, like the feeling inside might crack if he pushed hard enough.
"So… I'm sorry," he murmured. "If I die today, I won't be able to keep my promise."
He shut his eyes and wiped his face, letting out a slow breath.
"Hope you understand."
His expression darkened as he glanced down at the village. Torch and lantern light washed over the clan like it was some kind of festival. Everyone had gathered in one place, laughing, dancing, music echoing up the mountain.
"Wow," he muttered.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Alright then… let's go say hello. I'm just dying for this family reunion."
From his shadow, the Black Knight emerged behind him, silent and massive, radiating an intense amount of pressure. The ground beneath them rumbled.
[Entity: Black Knight]
[Rank: Dormant]
[Shard Fragments: 0 / 100]
With his command, the Black Knight soared into the sky, its silhouette slicing across the moon.
A breath later, it came crashing down into the village's heart like judgment from above.
The shockwave tore through the island.
Trees snapped. Houses exploded. The earth trembled as if groaning in pain.
That certainly got their attention.
Those closest dragged themselves out of the rubble, coughing and stumbling.
Women and children rushed from their homes, running for safety, confused but alert. From the mountaintop, he watched panic spread through them like flames through dry grass.
But once they realized they were under attack, they swarmed the knight, fast but disorganized. Blades struck the black armor and shattered like glass.
Their strikes did nothing.
But his did.
One swing of the ebony blade, and several men fell apart like they were never standing there at all.
Normally, anyone sane would have just fled. And some did, while others didn't, too prideful to run.
They raised their weapons bravely, still convinced there was a man hiding inside the pitch-black armor.
"Come out, coward, and fight like a man."
The knight didn't bother to answer. Instead, it moved toward the upper level, its primary target—his father.
They struck the armored beast from the back, their weapons glowing. Some carried elemental abilities.
One slammed their fist onto the ground, and its foot sank into the earth, rooting it. Vines rose and snapped around its armored arms, squeezing tight, trying to snap them.
And from above, blades fell like rain. But their weak metal was no match for its armor, shattering before their eyes.
The knight's armor began to pulse. Purple smoke seeped through the gaps, hissing softly as it melted way vines like they were nothing more than wet paper.
It launched forward fast. None of them had time to react. In three seconds, dozens were already dead. Its ebony blade glowed red now, dripping crimson with every step.
As the knight closed in on the main house, the ground beneath its feet detonated.
Explosions tore through the earth, shockwaves ripping outward as stone and fire were hurled into the air. Smoke flooded the battlefield, thick and white.
From above, glowing arrows rained down in numbers greater than the carvings he had left in the well, piercing through the haze like falling stars. Each impact only made the smoke grow thicker.
A heartbeat later, three figures came crushing down like shooting stars.
One slammed down first, a massive sword crashing into the ground hard enough to split it open.
The second followed with a spear, its tip punching through stone as if it were flesh.
The last one came down barehanded, thick gauntlets slamming into the ground hard enough to crack the earth. The impact kicked up dirt and stone in every direction.
The battlefield dipped under the force, the air filling with dust and smoke until everything turned into a gray blur.
A moment later, through the haze, the three figures shot back out after their grand entrance. "Okay," he muttered, "that was actually kind of cool."
Shiro watched it all from a distance, calm and unmoving, a faint smile carved across his face as the destruction unfolded below.
"Well," he said under his breath, "let's see if I can outdo that."