"In this world, strength is not a gift… it is the price one pays to stay alive."
"Kara is the life energy that flows through all things. Some shape it to create, others to destroy… but all depend on it to survive."
"When the breath of Kara fades, the heart stops beating, and the soul disappears into the eternal shadow."
Raizen:
"When I found myself facing them… I didn't know if I could do it…" Raizen breathed out.
Hana:
"And yet you held on. And you acted with instinct, with courage," Hana corrected, a slight smile on her lips. "Every step is a lesson, and today you learned more than you think."
Raizen took a deep breath, feeling his Kara vibrate faintly. For the first time, he understood that his power was linked to his will and his ability to protect those who couldn't defend themselves.
Night in Kazemori
Night had fallen on the hidden sanctuary. The soft glow of the moon reflected on the hot water of a natural spring set up for the Stellar Zeniths. Steam rose in light wisps, creating a veil of mystery and calm.
Raizen, as was his habit, approached the spring with his towel wrapped around his waist, ready to relax after the grueling day. He sighed, appreciating the moist heat escaping from the water.
Without further delay, he submerged himself completely in the water, letting his muscles relax and the residual Kara subside. But as soon as his eyes opened beneath the surface, he sensed a presence: someone was already there.
A figure rose gently, the steam gradually revealing a young woman about his age, completely naked. Raizen, his eyes wide, emerged with a start, his mouth forming a muffled "oh!" The woman, also surprised, tried to cover her body with her arms, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Raizen:
"Hey!" he exclaimed, his cheeks reddening.
The young woman, just as surprised, tried to cover herself with her arms.
Woman:
"Wh-what…" she stammered, blushing.
Before they could recover from their shock, the sound of footsteps was heard at the edge of the hot spring. A towel was quickly tied around the waist of a young man with red hair who had just entered, also coming for a bath. He stopped short, his gaze falling on Raizen and the young woman, both surprised and completely naked.
Young Man:
"Oh… uh… I… I didn't mean to…"
Looking at the woman, his cheeks also on fire.
Three held breaths, three flushed faces under the moonlight and the steam of the hot spring. Silence fell, broken only by the gentle lapping of the hot water.
Raizen stammered, trying to look away and regain his composure:
"Uh… I… I thought I was alone…"
The young woman whispered in turn, her cheeks still scarlet:
"Me too… I… I thought it was empty…"
The young man at the entrance, hesitating, finally murmured:
"Well… uh… I think… I'll wait a bit… outside."
Raizen slowly stood up, the water up to his waist, while the young woman entered it. Raizen got out and followed the young man.
Raizen: (with a sly smile)
"Sorry, enjoy yourselves anyway…"
The steam and the murmur of the water masked the color of their cheeks, and the hot spring returned to its tranquil atmosphere, as if the surprise had been only a fleeting moment.
(Next Scene...)
The forest was dense and silent. Every step of the Blood Burn echoed like a funeral drum. His clothes were torn, his legs were weak, and every breath burned his chest. He had survived Seiran… but fear clung to him like a second skin.
Then the voice came, muffled but relentless, resonating directly in his mind:
"You run quite fast… for someone who has failed."
The Blood Burn flinched, his heart pounding as if to break. His fingers dug into the damp mud, trying to anchor himself to reality.
"Ma… Master Shiro… I… I didn't run! I… I only wanted to report what I saw!" he stammered, his voice trembling.
Silence fell again, heavy, oppressive. Even the wind seemed to have stopped.
"Are you speaking of a report, or an excuse?"
The Blood Burn shook his head, unable to answer. His memories were a jumble: the corpses of his comrades, the chaos, the impassive face of the masked warrior who had cut down everything.
"And… the Zenith base… did you find it?"
"N… no, master…" he whispered, his throat tight.
An icy chill ran through him. His legs gave way, his hands trembled. Every word from Shiro weighed like an invisible blade, and the air around him seemed to freeze.
"No…" Shiro repeated. "No… and you still dare to breathe after such a failure."
His eyelids filled with tears. He fell to his knees, mud sticking to his clothes, the metallic taste of blood rising in his mouth. His hands searched the ground, desperate, but his mind was slowly shutting down.
"Look at yourself…" Shiro continued in his head, relentless. "Breathing… but dead inside. Everything you were… consumed by your incompetence."
"P…please, master! I… I'll do better… I…" he whispered one last time.
But his words died in his mouth. The light in his eyes flickered, then vanished. His muscles tensed, his face froze. He was still breathing… but his soul, his spirit, all consciousness had been burned away. He was nothing more than an empty shell, a puppet of flesh left behind.
The wind hissed through the trees. The forest returned to its silence, as if refusing to bear witness to the damnation that had just occurred. Even the animals remained still, sensing that something terrible had passed.
The frozen body of the Blood Burn remained kneeling in the mud, and Shiro's voice faded away, like a cruel echo:
"Let the world continue… and let despair spread."
A few streets away, in the heart of Kazemori, the city vibrated with life. Lanterns illuminated the stalls, the laughter of children and the voices of merchants mingled in a joyful hubbub. The air was filled with grilled spices and human warmth.
Sitting at the terrace of a small outdoor restaurant, "Shiro Takahashi," the creator of the Blood Burns, was reading a book, impassive, elegantly dressed. His face betrayed nothing, neither the boredom nor the cruelty that flowed in his veins. Families laughed around him, children ran between the tables, but his eyes remained fixed on the lines of the book.
He slowly closed the book, placed a few coins on the table, and stood up. His gait was fluid, calm, perfectly detached from the surrounding turmoil.
As he crossed the busy street, a bucket of water slipped from a vendor's hands and splashed on the ground a few inches from him.
"Oh! Sir! I'm sorry! Excuse me!" the woman exclaimed, flustered.
Shiro stopped. Slowly, his gaze fell upon her. There was no shout, no anger, but a murderous aura that chilled the blood. The woman felt her breath catch, her words getting stuck in her throat.
With an almost tender gesture, Shiro placed his hand on her shoulder. His smile was polite, charming… deceptive. Then he removed his hand. The vendor remained motionless, her gaze empty, her body paralyzed. She too had become an empty shell, a silent spectator of her own life fading away.
Without a backward glance, Shiro resumed his walk through the crowd, indifferent to the laughter and cries. The joy of Kazemori continued around him, but he had left behind the seal of despair.
He walked on, impassive, the night and the vibrant city around him, and his thoughts drifted to a single name:
"A new Zenith… Raizen. Let's see if his light will be strong enough to survive what I have prepared."
END OF CHAPTER 7