The road to Oakhaven was a grueling stretch of jagged rocks and suffocating heat.
The trio moved in a tight formation, the silence of the forest replaced by the low, weary grunts of physical exertion.
Kaito led the way, his eyes darting between the mechanical compass in his hand and the horizon, while William brought up the rear, his heavy boots crunching rhythmically against the gravel.
"You know, for a city that's supposed to be a neutral trade hub, the air smells an awful lot like ozone and corruption," William grumbled, wiping a thick layer of dust from his forehead.
Kaito didn't look back.
"That's because neutrality is a lie people tell themselves so they can sleep at night.
Oakhaven belongs to whoever has the most coin, and right now, the Adjon are the only ones minting it."
Kenji remained silent, his gaze fixed forward. He didn't feel the fatigue in his legs or the parched tightness in his throat.
His mind was a cold machine, cataloging the terrain and measuring the distance. The closer they got to the city's towering stone gates, the more the atmosphere shifted. The wild, untamed magic of the forest gave way to a structured, oppressive energy.
When they finally breached the perimeter, the sheer scale of Oakhaven hit them. It was a sprawling metropolis built into the side of a canyon, with multi-tiered streets connected by rusted iron bridges.
Steam whistled from brass pipes, and the sky was perpetually grey from the soot of a thousand forges.
Kaito pulled them into a crowded alleyway, his face twisted in a grimace. "Alright, listen up. We're broke.
Completely tapped out. And if we want to get the supplies we need for the City of Quan, we need currency.
Which means..." He paused, the word seemingly catching in his throat like a bitter pill. "We need to get a job."
William groaned, leaning his heavy frame against a soot-stained wall. "A job? You said that like it was a slur, Kaito. I'm a warrior, not a laborer."
"In this city, the only difference between a warrior and a laborer is who's paying the bill," Kaito snapped.
They managed to find work at a crowded meat market on the lower docks, a place where massive sea-beasts were hauled in and butchered for the upper-class districts. Kaito and William were tasked with hauling crates, their elemental strengths making them efficient, if reluctant, workers.
Kenji was handed a heavy, rusted cleaver and told to process the carcasses.
While Kaito was bartering with a confused customer over the price of a slab of ribs, Kenji's ears picked up a sound that didn't belong to the market's chaos.
From behind a stack of shipping containers came the muffled whimpers of a young woman and the low, predatory chuckle of a man.
Kenji stopped. He didn't look at Kaito or William. He simply laid down the meat he was holding and walked away from the stall, his movements fluid and ghost-like.
He rounded the corner to find a large, scarred man pinning a girl against the cold stone wall, his hand gripping her throat.
The man didn't even notice Kenji until the cold edge of a butcher's knife was pressed firmly against the back of his neck.
The man froze, the color draining from his face as he felt the killing intent radiating from the boy behind him. He slowly turned, his hands rising in a frantic gesture.
"Mercy! Mercy, please! I was just... I won't do it again! Have mercy!"
Kenji stared at him with those flat, leaden eyes. "Mercy?" he whispered, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "What is that?"
Before the man could utter another sound, Kenji's hand moved. It was a clean, clinical strike.
He didn't hesitate, and he didn't feel a flicker of remorse. He watched the light leave the man's eyes with the same detachment he felt when butchering the sea-beasts.
By the end of the day, they had earned twelve Adjon—the local currency stamped with the Leader's crest.
Kaito looked at the coins in his palm and then at the dark, crowded streets.
"We need to leave by tomorrow morning," he whispered, his voice urgent. "Look at the stamp on these coins.
This city isn't neutral. It's a feeder system for the Adjon's war machine. We're standing in the belly of the beast."
They secured a cramped, windowless room in a run-down inn for four Adjon. The air was stale, and the walls were thin, but it was cover.
William and Kaito collapsed into a deep, exhausted sleep almost immediately, their snores filling the small space.
Kenji, however, couldn't sleep. The silence of the room was too loud.
He lay back in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
Skritch. Skritch.
He heard it, the faint, rhythmic scrape of leather on stone coming from the roof directly above them. Kenji sat up instantly, reaching for a heavy butcher knife he had taken from the market.
BOOM!
The ceiling exploded inward in a shower of splintered wood and plaster. A man clad in dark, reinforced leather armor crashed down, landing directly on top of Kenji.
The intruder was a Hunter, a specialized assassin used by the Adjon to track high-value targets.
"Is this the 'Zero' kid the lords sent me to play with?" the Hunter hissed, pinning Kenji's arms down with knees that felt like iron weights.
"This is too easy. You're nothing but a—"
BOOM!
A massive, green-glowing fist slammed into the Hunter's side, sending him hurtling through the thin wooden wall and into the adjacent room.
William stood there, his skin steaming, his eyes glowing with the fury of a man whose sleep had been rudely interrupted.
"What the hell is happening?" Kaito scrambled up, his hands already glowing as he fought off the fog of sleep.
Kenji didn't wait for an explanation. He scrambled to his feet and ran straight for the hole in the wall, his knife raised for a killing blow. But as he lunged, the Hunter recovered with unnatural speed, catching Kenji's wrist in mid-air.
"You're so weak," the Hunter spat, twisting Kenji's arm until the bone groaned.
Kaito didn't give him a second chance. He planted his feet and threw his arms out.
"Gravity Shift!"
The gravity in the Hunter's immediate vicinity didn't just change; it inverted.
The floorboards beneath the man's feet tore upward, and the sheer force of the shift sent the Hunter flying backward, slamming him into the far stone wall with a sickening crunch.
Kenji was on him before he could hit the floor. He didn't use the knife this time; he drew his sword in one fluid motion and drove it straight through the Hunter's chest, pinning him to the wall.
"The weak just killed you," Kenji said.
He didn't stop at the heart. He moved with a cold, systematic fury, slashing at every vital point to ensure the man couldn't be revived, his blade a blur of steel in the moonlight.
As the night progressed, a strange change came over Kenji.
While Kaito and William tried to clean up the mess and plan their escape, Kenji slipped out into the night. He didn't go for a walk; he went to hunt.
He moved through the slums of Oakhaven like a vengeful spirit. In one alley, he found a group of thugs shaking down an elderly man. He didn't call out a warning.
He simply emerged from the shadows, his blade ending the encounter before the thugs could even draw their weapons. In another street, he intercepted a corrupt guard attempting to extort a family.
By the time the sun began to peek over the canyon walls, Kenji returned to the inn, his clothes damp with fresh blood.
Kaito looked up from a map, his expression a mix of horror and exhaustion. "Kenji... we heard the screams from three blocks away. What are you doing? We're trying to keep a low profile!"
William sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let him be, Kaito. The kid's been a victim his whole life.
Now he's the one holding the knife. It's not pretty, but in a city like this? He's the only one doing God's work, even if he doesn't believe in one."
Kenji didn't respond. He sat on the edge of his bed and began to sharpen his blade, the rhythmic shink-shink of stone on steel the only sound in the room.
"We're leaving right now." Kenji said.