Morning arrived quietly.
The forest still bore the scars of yesterday's battle.
Charred trees stood like blackened pillars.
The earth remained split where Kaito's wind had carved through stone.
Even the air smelled faintly of smoke.
Ren walked in silence.
The old katana Hana had lent him rested at his waist.
Every step made his shoulder ache.
"...Ow."
Hana glanced over.
"You still whining?"
"You punched me."
"I complimented you."
"...With your fist."
"Exactly."
Ren sighed.
"...You're impossible."
She grinned proudly.
"I've been told."
Kaito walked a few paces ahead.
"...Focus."
"The forest has become unusually quiet."
Hana looked around.
"...Yeah."
"No birds."
"No insects."
"...I don't like it."
For once...
Nobody joked.
---
Hours later...
They reached the shrine.
Everything looked exactly as they had left it.
The weathered torii gate.
The cracked stone paths.
The seven statues standing beneath the pines.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Hana stretched.
"I'm starving."
Ren blinked.
"...That's your first concern?"
"My first concern is always food."
Kaito shook his head.
"...I'll prepare tea."
"YES!"
She immediately followed him inside.
Ren couldn't help smiling.
"...They're weird."
---
Far away...
The battlefield remained untouched.
Ash drifted lazily through the wind.
Broken roots still crawled weakly across the ground before withering away.
Silence.
Then—
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Crunch.
A boot stepped onto the scorched earth.
One.
Then another.
Figures cloaked entirely in black emerged from between the trees.
Not soldiers.
Not mercenaries.
Hunters.
They spread through the clearing without speaking.
Each inspected the battlefield differently.
One examined the burned vines.
Another measured the depth of Kaito's sword marks.
A third crouched beside shattered stone.
None wasted a single movement.
After several moments...
One finally spoke.
"...Fire."
Another answered.
"...Wind."
A third quietly added,
"...And..."
He touched a shallow sword mark carved into a rock.
"...Steel."
Silence returned.
Until—
"...Correct."
A calm voice echoed behind them.
The cloaked figures immediately stepped aside.
A lone man walked into the clearing.
He wore robes darker than the surrounding shadows.
Covering his face...
A white fox mask.
Its expression never changed.
Neither did his posture.
He simply stood.
Watching.
Listening.
Thinking.
He slowly walked toward the center of the battlefield.
The burn marks.
The shattered roots.
The cut earth.
Every detail entered his memory.
He stopped before the crude sword mark.
Unlike the others...
It lacked elegance.
The angle was imperfect.
The force inconsistent.
The mark was...
Human.
Inexperienced.
He knelt.
Running two fingers across the stone.
"...Interesting."
No one interrupted him.
Finally...
He spoke again.
"...Three combatants."
"...One Verdant Realmborn."
"...One wielder of Flame."
"...One wielder of Wind."
His fingers remained on the final mark.
"...And one swordsman."
A subordinate frowned.
"...Should we investigate Crimson?"
The fox mask tilted slightly.
"...No."
"They were never here."
The subordinate hesitated.
"...Then who?"
The masked man slowly stood.
His gaze drifted toward the distant mountains.
"...Someone..."
"...worth finding."
---
The masked captain remained silent.
The battlefield had already told him everything he needed to know.
One of the cloaked ninjas stepped forward.
"...Captain."
"The trail heads north."
The fox mask nodded once.
"How many?"
"Three."
"...No."
The captain calmly corrected him.
"Three left."
"The fourth..."
He looked toward the scorched vines.
"...didn't."
No one questioned him.
Among Black Lotus...
The captain's deductions were never doubted.
Another shinobi approached, carrying a torn piece of dark green cloth recovered from the battlefield.
"The Realmborn."
The captain took it.
Running his thumb across the strange fibers.
"...Verdant."
"It shouldn't have appeared this far from the weakening seals."
Another ninja spoke.
"...Then the seals are failing faster than expected."
The captain folded the cloth.
"...Or..."
"...someone wants us to believe they are."
Silence.
No one answered.
Because no one had an answer.
One of the younger members broke the silence.
"...Captain."
"If Crimson learns about this first—"
"They already know."
The response came instantly.
"They simply know less than we do."
The young shinobi lowered his head.
"...Understood."
The captain slowly turned away from the ruined clearing.
"We're leaving."
No one asked why.
One by one...
The Black Lotus disappeared into the trees.
Not a single footprint remained.
Hours passed.
The sun began to sink.
Far from the battlefield...
A lonely trade road wound through a dense bamboo forest.
Wooden carts creaked beneath heavy cargo.
Merchants laughed among themselves.
Children chased one another between the wagons.
The guards relaxed.
One of them stretched.
"...Quiet day."
Another chuckled.
"Don't say that."
"You'll curse us."
Laughter echoed through the convoy.
For a brief moment...
The world felt peaceful.
Then...
The horses stopped.
Every single one.
They refused to move.
One merchant frowned.
"...What's wrong with them?"
No answer.
The animals trembled.
Their ears flattened.
One horse suddenly let out a terrified scream.
It tore free from its reins.
Then another.
And another.
Within seconds...
The entire caravan descended into chaos.
"What the—?!"
"Grab them!"
"They're running!"
The guards reached for their weapons.
Not because they saw danger.
Because the forest had become...
Too quiet.
No birds.
No wind.
Nothing.
Then...
A heavy thud echoed between the bamboo.
...
Another.
...
Then another.
Each step...
Shook the earth beneath their feet.
One guard slowly turned toward the trees.
"...Who's there?"
No answer.
Only breathing.
Deep.
Heavy.
Animalistic.
Then...
Two crimson eyes opened in the darkness.
The crimson eyes did not blink.
They simply...
Watched.
One guard slowly raised his spear.
"...Show yourself."
The forest answered.
BOOM!
A massive tree exploded apart.
Something burst through the bamboo like a charging beast.
It was enormous.
Nearly three meters tall.
Its body was covered in coarse gray fur, scarred from countless battles.
Two twisted horns curved backward from its skull.
Its arms were grotesquely long, ending in claws that scraped against the ground.
Unlike Kaien...
There was nothing elegant about it.
It was violence given form.
One merchant screamed.
"...A-A REALMBORN!"
The creature tilted its head.
Its yellow eyes slowly wandered across the trembling humans.
Its lips curled into something resembling a smile.
"...Food."
Its voice was rough.
Broken.
Almost animalistic.
One guard charged.
"For the village!"
His spear struck the creature's chest.
...
It snapped in half.
The Realmborn stared at the broken wood.
Then...
It backhanded the guard.
His body crashed through three wagons before disappearing beneath the rubble.
Silence.
Then panic.
"RUN!"
"GET THE CHILDREN!"
The convoy scattered in every direction.
The beast laughed.
A deep, guttural sound.
"...Run."
"...More fun."
It lunged.
A wagon exploded beneath its claws.
Splinters flew through the air.
Another guard attacked from behind.
The creature didn't even turn.
Its tail slammed into him.
Bones cracked.
The man collapsed without another sound.
Blood soaked the dirt road.
The Realmborn inhaled deeply.
"...Human..."
"...Fear."
"...Good."
---
> The Lesser Realmborn—Gorak.
> Though classified among the Lesser Born...
> Its raw strength rivaled that of higher-ranked Realmborn, including Kaien of the Verdant Realm.
> Unlike Kaien, who sought knowledge...
> Gorak existed for one purpose alone.
> To hunt.
---
Another merchant stumbled backward, shielding his daughter.
"P-Please..."
The child cried.
Gorak slowly raised a claw.
"...Weak."
The claw fell.
...
...
...Tap. The sound of someone walking..
The claw stopped.
Not because Gorak chose to.
Because...
Something had changed.
Even the wind had disappeared.
...Tap.
...Tap.
A lone figure emerged from the bamboo.
Plain robes.
A weathered cloak.
One hand resting on the hilt of a sheathed katana.
He walked without hurry.
Without hesitation.
Without fear.
Gorak froze.
Its pupils shrank.
Its breathing became uneven.
Its body...
Refused to move.
Fragments flashed through its mind.
—--
A sky blackened by ash.
Mountains of corpses.
Realmborn screaming.
A lone swordsman walking through them.
Every step...
Another body.
Another scream.
Another death.
—--
Gorak had survived that battlefield.
Not through strength.
Not through courage.
Only...
Luck.
Its claws began to tremble.
Sweat rolled down the side of its face.
Its mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
---
> Against ordinary warriors...
> Gorak was a calamity.
> Against armies...
> It was a nightmare.
> ...
> None of that mattered.
> Because this was never a battle.
> It was an execution...
> ...whose outcome had already been decided.
---
Silent Blade continued walking.
The same calm pace.
Never once looking angry.
Never once looking afraid.
Gorak stumbled backward.
"...M..."
Another step.
"...M..."
Its voice cracked.
Its entire body shook uncontrollably.
Then...
It screamed.
"M-Murderer!!"
Silent Blade never answered.
He simply kept walking.
Gorak desperately raised both claws.
Not to attack.
To defend.
A soft whisper of steel echoed through the forest.
Shing.
Silent Blade was already behind it.
Still walking.
Never slowing.
Never looking back.
For a single moment...
Nothing happened.
Gorak blinked.
It tried to turn.
A thin red line slowly appeared across its chest.
Its strength disappeared.
Its massive body swayed.
As it fell...
Its terrified eyes remained fixed on the lone swordsman walking away.
The last thing it ever saw...
Was his back.
The earth trembled as Gorak crashed into the road.
Dead.
Before it even understood...
The fight had ended.
Only silence remained.
And the quiet sound of footsteps...
Growing farther away.
---
End of chapter 13
—