The council tent slowly began to empty.
One by one, footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by silence. Time passed unnoticed, and by the time the last voices were gone, the sun had already sunk beyond the horizon.
It was 6 p.m.
Inside the tent, Toji remained alone.
A large map lay spread across the table before him. His eyes traced its markings calmly, almost thoughtfully, as if memorizing every path and border. The faint glow of the remaining light cast long shadows across the canvas.
Without a word, Toji reached into his cloak and pulled out a knife.
He tossed it into the air.
The blade spun once—twice—before he caught it effortlessly.
In the very next motion, he stabbed it down at the center of the map of Kazim.
The knife got stabbed deep inside the table.
A slow smile formed on Toji's face.
"Tonight…" he murmured, his voice low and certain,
"I'll paint Kazim with blood."
Outside, torches burned at the entrance of every tent, their flames swaying gently in the evening wind.
Toji stepped out of the council tent alone.
Torchlight followed him as he walked through the encampment, his shadow stretching long across the ground. He moved without haste, each step deliberate.
Soon, he came to a halt before a smaller tent.
From within, a faint light seeped through the fabric, barely illuminating the ground beneath it.
Toji stood there silently, facing it.
Toji paused.
For a brief moment, he looked back.
Beyond him, warriors moved through the camp, sharpening their blades, tightening armor straps, and preparing themselves for the coming night. The soft scrape of metal echoed in the air, steady and merciless.
His hand rose toward the tent flap—
—and trembled.
He exhaled, then lifted it.
Inside, Shizuka sat quietly on a woven mat. A small bundle rested in her arms. Wrapped in cloth, little Kai slept against her chest, his breathing slow and gentle.
A lantern flickered beside them, its warm light swaying, casting soft shadows along the tent walls.
Shizuka looked up.
"You're late," she said softly.
Toji stepped inside and lowered himself beside her.
"The night is shorter than it seems," he replied.
Kai stirred slightly, a faint movement beneath the cloth.
Toji leaned closer and gently touched the child's forehead. His rough fingers slowed, careful, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace before him.
"He's calm," Toji said in a low voice.
The lantern flame wavered.
Shizuka's gaze lowered to the child in her arms.
"He was crying while you were gone."
Silence followed her words.
It settled between them, heavy and unspoken.
Shizuka's expression slowly hardened. Her fingers tightened around the cloth wrapped around Kai as she looked up at Toji again—this time with quiet concern etched into her eyes.
"How many… this time?"
Toji didn't answer immediately.
His eyes dropped to the floor.
"Too many."
Shizuka's hand clenched the fabric of her clothes.
"More warriors," she said, not as a question, but a realization.
"Yes," Toji replied. "Every male."
Shizuka closed her eyes.
Her breath trembled, just slightly.
"Every night," she whispered,
"I fear hearing their names."
Toji's voice came softly, almost buried beneath the flickering lantern's hum.
"I fear hearing silence."
The lantern suddenly flickered more violently, its flame stretching and shrinking as if reacting to the tension in the air.
Shizuka lifted her eyes to him.
"Are you afraid, Toji?"
There was a pause.
Long enough for the silence to press against his chest.
"Not of dying," Toji said at last.
His hand slowly clenched into a fist.
"Of losing them… again."
He closed his eyes.
"They follow me," he continued quietly.
"And they die."
Shizuka's voice came firm, steady—unwavering.
"They follow you because you protect them."
Toji's breath hitched.
His voice trembled, and a single tear slipped free, tracing a silent path down his cheek.
"Protection doesn't bring them back."
A soft whimper broke the moment.
Kai stirred in Shizuka's arms, the fragile sound cutting through the weight of the words spoken.
Shizuka reached out and gently took Toji's hand.
Her grip was soft, yet trembling. Tears slid down her cheeks in silence, catching the lantern's glow before falling onto the cloth wrapped around Kai.
"What happens tonight?" she asked.
Toji's voice was steady when he answered, almost unnaturally so.
"If we win… nothing changes."
There was a pause.
"But if we lose…"
He finally lifted his head and met her eyes.
"You'll leave."
Shizuka's breath caught.
"Leave?" Her voice sharpened, disbelief cutting through the fear.
"I've planned it," Toji said.
He lowered his voice further, as if the tent itself might be listening.
"There are thirty warriors among forty-eight females. They'll guide the others—through a hidden path in the northern forest."
Shizuka's fingers tightened around his hand.
"The hunters…?"
"They won't be there," Toji said.
He spoke again, slower this time.
"You'll move to Sunvale Village. The villagers will hide you. I have deep connections with the people of Sunvale."
Shizuka's eyes filled once more, the tears returning despite her effort to stay strong.
"And you?" she asked.
Toji didn't hesitate.
"I don't go."
Silence followed.
It stretched painfully between them.
Toji's eyes grew watery, the resolve he wore beginning to crack. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees and pulled Shizuka into a tight embrace, holding her as if this moment alone could be preserved against the coming night.
After a moment, he pulled back slightly and looked at little Kai.
"Take care of my little prince," he said softly.
"If I wasn't able to return."
Shizuka broke.
She hugged him again, her sobs no longer restrained.
Toji placed his hands on her shoulders, gently easing her back. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead—lingering only for a heartbeat—before standing upright.
Shizuka looked up at him, tears clinging to her lashes.
"You're already leaving?"
Toji paused. He turned back slightly, his voice softened, stripped of the weight he carried for others.
"This time… for good… for our comrades…"
Shizuka held Kai closer to her chest, as if shielding him from the words themselves.
"If you don't return—"
"Don't wait," Toji said gently.
"Raise him away from war."
His eyes fell on the child one last time.
"Tell him his father chose the night so he could see the morning."
Slowly, Toji bowed his head.
"Promise me."
Silence followed.
It lingered—long, fragile, unbearable.
Then, barely louder than a breath, Shizuka spoke.
"I promise."
Toji took a single step forward.
Then he stopped.
Slowly, he turned just enough to look back once more—his eyes settling on Kai, small and unaware in Shizuka's arms.
"Live…" he said softly,
"Longer than us."
For a brief instant, the locket around his neck shimmered—its surface catching the lantern light, shining unnaturally for a single heartbeat.
Then it faded.
Toji turned back toward the exit.
"How many chances are there for victory?" Shizuka asked, her voice trembling.
"Less than five percent," Toji replied—without turning around.
He began to move.
"Toji—" Shizuka called, tears filling her eyes.
He stopped.
Her voice softened, almost breaking.
"Come back."
He didn't answer.
The tent flap lifted.
And Toji stepped out into the night.
The fabric fell back into place, cutting off the torchlight—and with it, the last trace of his presence.
Inside the tent, Shizuka stood motionless, holding Kai close.
Outside, footsteps faded.
Outside the tent, the warriors stood fully prepared.
Torches burned in their hands, flames crackling softly as they cast restless light across hardened faces and polished armor. No one spoke. The night itself seemed to be holding its breath.
Toji stepped forward, standing before them.
"Everybody here?"
A warrior stepped out slightly and lowered his head.
"No, sir. Commander Soichiro Matsuda is not here."
Toji nodded once.
"Oh… I can understand."
Around the camp, women and young girls stood near the tents, watching silently. Some clutched sleeves, others held hands over their mouths. All of them watched husbands, brothers, and loved ones standing beneath the torchlight.
Eyes glistened everywhere.
No tears fell loudly—but the night knew they were there.
The scene shifted.
To Soichiro's tent.
Inside, torches burned steadily, their flames brighter than the ones outside—yet unable to chase away the tension lingering in the air.
Soichiro stood at the entrance of the tent.
Before him stood Himari, her posture straight but her eyes heavy with unspoken worry.
Beside her was Soichi.
Himari stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Soichiro, holding him tightly.
"Don't you dare to lose," she said softly, her voice catching for just a moment. "Gerk!…"
Soichiro smiled, one corner of his lips lifting with familiar confidence.
"You really think…" he said lightly,
"…someone can defeat me?"
Himari pulled back just enough to look at him, her expression shifting into a teasing, almost mocking grin.
"I know," she replied. "You won't lose."
Soichiro raised an eyebrow.
"How?!"
She moved closer again, gently taking his hands in hers.
"'Cause you…" she said quietly,
"you're my guy."
Soichiro laughed, the sound warm and genuine, briefly pushing away the heaviness that hung over the night.
"Papa! I wanna come too!!"
Soichi stepped forward, his eyes shining with excitement and determination.
Soichiro turned toward him and placed a firm but gentle hand on his head, ruffling his hair.
"No, you can't," he said, his voice turning serious.
"It's dangerous out there."
Soichiro turned away, taking a slow breath.
"I should go now…"
Before he could take another step, Himari wrapped her arms around him from behind, holding him tightly—as if trying to anchor him to that moment.
"Go," she said, her voice firm despite the tremble beneath it.
"Make Kazim bleed… make them regret it."
Soichiro smiled.
Not the careless grin of before—but a calm, resolute one.
He stepped forward and left the tent.
Outside, Toji immediately noticed him emerging through the torchlight.
"Sorry for being late," Soichiro said.
Toji gave a single nod in response.
Behind him, Himari and Soichi stepped out as well, stopping just outside the tent. Their eyes followed Soichiro in silence.
As Soichiro passed closer, the torchlight caught something on his hand.
A ring.
Toji's gaze sharpened.
He lifted a hand slightly, pointing toward it.
"So…" Toji said quietly,
"you finally decided to use it…"
Soichiro smiled and gave a firm nod.
Toji returned the gesture, a faint smile forming on his lips.
"Well then."
He closed his eyes.
The locket resting against his chest began to tremble, slowly at first—then more violently, as if responding to an unseen call. The ground in front of him darkened, and a small circular swirl appeared upon the earth itself.
It shimmered with red and orange light, rotating silently, like molten fire trapped in a perfect ring.
Toji opened his eyes.
He bent down without hesitation and reached into the swirling light. For a brief moment, his hand vanished within it.
Then he pulled back.
A sword emerged in his grasp.
Flames wrapped around the blade from hilt to edge, burning bright yet controlled, as if the fire itself had been forged into steel.
Toji straightened and lifted the sword toward the sky.
In that instant, an overwhelming aura of blazing fire erupted from his body, engulfing him completely. Heat surged outward in waves, forcing the air to tremble.
The land beneath his feet cracked, thin fractures spreading under the pressure of his presence alone.
Without a single command—
Everyone dropped to their knees.
Every warrior.
Including Soichiro.
Toji's eyes changed.
The whites vanished, swallowed by a deep crimson glow, burning like living flame. For a brief moment, it felt as though fire itself was staring back at the world.
A smile occurred on Soichiro's face.
"Haha!!"
His smile and eyes wideneda bit, pride ringing clearly in his voice.
"That's my boy—Toji Akiyama… our Cinder Sovereign is back in action once again!!"
Toji exhaled slowly.
"I never thought," he said quietly,
"that I'd use it again."
The flames receded.
The red glow faded from his eyes, and his presence settled—still overwhelming, but restrained. Toji turned around, smoothly sliding the blazing sword back into its guard. The fire dimmed, obedient, as if awaiting its next command.
Around him, the warriors rose to their feet.
Armor clinked. Saddles creaked.
One by one, they mounted their horses—including Soichiro and Toji.
At the front of the formation, their horses stood side by side.
Toji glanced toward Soichiro and gave a single nod.
Soichiro raised his voice, sharp and commanding, cutting through the night.
"Warriors!!"
"Yes, Commander!!" the army roared in unison.
Soichiro's expression hardened. His voice dropped—cold, absolute.
"Roll out!!"
Hooves struck the ground.
Torches surged forward.
And beneath the burning sky, the warriors of the night began their march—
toward Kazim,
toward blood,
toward a battle that would decide who would see the morning.
To Be Continued...