Chapter 21
Meanwhile, far away from Bladyso City where the tragedy had unfolded.
There existed another city. One at least twice the size of most, yet strangely empty. The streets were wide, clean, almost too perfect. But people were few. Those who walked its paths all wore the same uniforms. White and black. Crisp. Identical. On their chests sat a badge crest, polished and heavy with meaning.
A thick shield engraved upon it, pierced by a radiant white sword.
The Bulwark of the Shural of the AYDE Kingdom.
Towering spires dominated the skyline. Training grounds rang with distant clashes of steel and essence. Facilities rose in disciplined order. At the heart of it all stood a massive hall where most Shurals gathered, trained, and were forged.
But far from the noise, far from the echoes of power and command, near the back of the city, stood a lone structure.
A modest building. Quiet. Isolated.
Sitting atop it in a meditative pose was an old man dressed in pure white.
His hair cascaded like fresh snow. His eyes were closed. A peaceful radiance surrounded him, so calm it felt unreal. Power slept beneath that stillness. Immense. Ancient. The kind that made men bow without knowing why.
He looked almost like a god among men.
The peace shattered.
A flash of movement split the air.
The old man did not open his eyes.
"Report, Ashiro."
A figure had appeared, as if stepping straight out of the void. He dropped to one knee immediately, head lowered. When he spoke, his voice trembled.
"I'm sorry. We failed the mission."
For the first time in hours, the old man stirred.
His eyes snapped open.
"What do you mean you failed?" His gaze locked onto Ashiro. "Did they escape? Or were they captured by him?"
Ashiro stayed silent for several breaths. Choosing his words carefully. When he finally spoke, his voice was solemn, heavy.
"No. I don't believe they escaped. Nor do I think they were captured."
The pause that followed was suffocating.
"I believe they are dead. All of them."
The old man's face remained calm. But the distress in his grey eyes was unmistakable.
His body stiffened.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, as if repeating a curse he could not believe.
"You mean he killed them. All of them."
Ashiro nodded.
"We found several bodies. Others were missing. But the scale of the battle, and the essence that permeated the ruined city and even the surrounding areas, makes it clear. They are all dead."
He swallowed.
"I believe the devil slaughtered them."
The old man closed his eyes once more.
His fist clenched, turning pale.
When he opened them again, calm had returned to his expression. But the storm burning beneath was undeniable.
Ashiro bowed his head deeper. "I'm sorry, Master. We failed to complete the mission. I failed to—"
"That is enough."
The old man cut him off.
"The death of the Trystan was bound to shake the direction of things once word spreads." His voice was steady. Controlled. "But for now, we focus on what is present. The more immediate threats."
He paused.
"When the time comes to deal with the rest, we will."
He opened his eyes fully.
"Send several Shurals to scout the city. Report anything unusual. Also, I need you and a few others to move to Plaza City. There are signs of two fallen rampaging there. Take care of it."
Ashiro nodded and rose to his feet.
As he turned to leave, he hesitated.
Then, in a low voice, almost inaudible, yet spoken with certainty that it would be heard.
"Why would the devil target the Trystan?" he asked. "There are many Gold Shurals tied to powerful clans. Why target a family that has hidden itself for years?"
The old man closed his eyes again.
His reply came shortly.
"Because the Trystan are special."
Ashiro frowned slightly.
"You don't need to know more than that," the old man continued. "Just know this. Things will become far more hectic soon. It has been a very long time since the devil last showed himself. Now he is acting again."
A brief pause.
"All of us must prepare."
Ashiro remained silent for a moment longer. Then he nodded.
He stepped away.
His movement was so fast and silent that he vanished, only to reappear several meters away. He stood atop a tall tree, gaze calm, posture relaxed.
"I'm sorry, Master," Ashiro whispered. "I didn't tell you everything."
He removed a ring from his pocket.
Greenish in color, laced with black.
His grip tightened around it, nearly crushing it if not for its extreme durability.
His eyes darkened, emotions too complex for anyone to read sinking deep within them.
"I'm certain he also participated in that attack."
The ring trembled slightly in his hand.
Meanwhile, far away from the Bulwark.
Still within the vast AYDE Kingdom.
A figure dressed in black stepped into an unassuming shop tucked between stone buildings. The sign was old. Faded. Inside, shelves were lined with herbs and potions of all kinds, yet the place was empty. Too empty. It looked like a business that barely survived on passing interest.
The man walked straight to the counter.
Behind it sat a young woman with a petite build, sharp goggles resting atop her eyes. The moment she noticed a customer, her eyes lit up. She stood quickly, a joyful smile blooming across her face.
"Welcome, sir, to the Harbital Potion Shop," she said brightly. "There is no herb or potion in this world you will not find here."
She launched into her pitch, words flowing smoothly, persuasive enough to sway most people without effort.
The man did not react.
His short blue hair swayed slightly as he raised his head. His gaze was cold. Focused.
"I am not here for herbs or potions," he said, voice sharp and resolute. "I am here to see the mistress."
The girl froze.
Her smile faltered just a little. She studied him carefully now, wariness creeping into her eyes. After a moment, she spoke in an unassuming tone.
"When the light falters."
The man did not answer immediately.
Then, calmly.
"The shadow endures."
Her eyes widened just a fraction.
Then she smiled again, this time differently.
She walked to the back of the shop and stopped before one of the shelves filled with potions. Removing a single herb, she pressed inward. The shelf slid aside silently, revealing a hidden doorway.
They stepped through.
There was no light within the passage, yet neither of them hesitated. They did not need it. Both could see clearly in the dark.
After some time, they entered a large chamber. It too was shrouded in darkness, save for a small luminous orb rotating above a lone figure seated on a purple chair. The figure faced away from them.
The petite woman bowed slightly.
"We greet the mistress. This young man—"
"You may leave now, Lily," the seated figure said calmly. "He is a special guest."
Lily glanced at the man once more, nodded, and withdrew, leaving the two alone in the dark.
Silence stretched.
Then the woman spoke.
"What is it, Francis?" she asked, her voice devoid of warmth. "I doubt you came here because you missed me."
The blue haired man shook his head.
"No. That is not it."
He paused.
"I bring bad news."
"Speak," the woman replied, tone neutral.
Francis stared at the purple chair, not quite at her.
"There are two matters," he said. "I managed to locate the devil. But before I could determine why he has resurfaced, I discovered he is targeting a particular family."
"A family?" she asked. "What family is important enough to make him act on his own?"
Francis's voice sharpened.
"I could not learn why before he struck. But I did learn the name."
He inhaled slowly.
"They are called the Trystan."
The woman's shoulders moved.
Just slightly.
When she spoke again, the distance in her voice was gone.
"Did you say the Trystan?"
Francis nodded. "Yes. The Trystan."
"And he has already struck," she said.
"Yes."
Silence.
Longer than before.
"Are there any survivors?" she asked quietly.
Francis hesitated.
"I am not certain," he admitted. "But the probability is low. Storme Fang's death is confirmed. As well as his children."
Francis frowned.
Was it his imagination, or did the mistress sigh?
The woman turned around.
Purple lips. Beautiful. Enchanting. Illuminated faintly by the rotating light.
"Oh," she said softly. "So he has already begun to move."
She rose from the chair.
"Prepare everything. We will not remain idle. Gather the others. Proceed with the plan."
After issuing several more orders, Francis bowed and departed, leaving the chamber empty once more.
The woman sighed again, her voice solemn as she whispered into the darkness.
"To think you would die by that monster's hand after all, White Head."
Her lips curled slightly.
"I wonder how he will react when he hears this."
The room fell silent.
Things had been quiet for far too long.
The heat was rising.
And chaos was about to return.