REUNION OF FRIENDS
REUNION OF FRIENDS
Back in our guest quarters, Princess Quina relentlessly scolded me for my reckless insubordination during the summit, while Prince Erwin quietly praised me in secret
According to Erwin, the intelligence I had extracted in a mere forty-eight hours would be invaluable for our long-term campaign against the church.
I didn't doubt his strategic vision. But I couldn't afford to wait for the long term.
The diplomatic delegation was officially scheduled to depart back to the Krane Kingdom tomorrow morning If I left these borders empty-handed, the Will Gurberr shadow identity I had meticulously built would lose all immediate value. I would permanently lose my window to flush out the puppet masters of The Nemesis. I had to forcefully stop this continental war tonight.
“What the hell are you thinking, Erik?” a raspy, low voice whispered from the corner of the room.
I looked over at Kiro. Our private chambers lacked an ounce of soundproofing, forcing us to communicate in hushed, lethal vibrations.
“We are going to forcefully stop this entire war tonight, Kiro,” I murmured, my eyes locking onto the dark horizon outside the glass. “We only have a window of roughly seven to eight hours before dawn breaks.”
Kiro leaned forward against the wall, a grim, challenging smirk on his grey features. “You explicitly stated during the summit that you didn't possess a Plan B, kid.”
“I don't,” I deadpanned, my eyes flashing with a dangerous, calculated focus. “That is exactly why, this time... we are going to act entirely without a plan.”
“How?”
Turning my head, I looked directly at one of Grim's miniature eagle drones resting silently on the wooden wardrobe. “Tell me, Grim... did your aerial sensors locate what I asked you to find?”
BZZZZT.
The mechanical lens of the drone flickered, and Grim’s raspy voice crackled quietly through our localized mana thread:
[ Grim: ] “Yes, Erik. I mobilized every single available drone grid within the capital's airspace. The human weapon warehouses you and Quina visited in the southern slums have been entirely evacuated. They shifted the entire operation to the western outskirts of the capital.”
Kiro stood up straight, his monstrous, deformed right arm subtly twitching in the dark. “What exactly are you planning to execute out there, Erik?”
“I am going to orchestrate an absolute, massacre,” I whispered, the dormant phantom pressure inside my core beginning to heat up. “Are you with me, Commander?”
Kiro let out a low, chilling laugh that resonated with a decade of accumulated psychological trauma. “I don't give a single damn about the survival of this kingdom anymore. If tearing that facility to pieces means Ruken will finally face reality and come back from the edge... then yes. I am with you to the end.”
I reached up, gently touching the silver surface of my locket. The 6'4" blonde frame of Will Gurberr dissolved within a flash of blinding light, replaced by the tailored, menacing all-crimson suit of The Crimson Card . Reaching into my shadow cloak, I pulled out a heavy, dark-alloy blade and slid it across the floor to Kiro .
“Tell me, Grim,” I commanded, strapping my twin black swords firmly to my waist. “What are the primary structural difficulties we are about to face?”
“There are exactly twelve 'Chosen Stones' currently stationed inside the perimeter,” Grim’s voice warned over the comms. “Worse, Grand Commander Kenon is already out there, actively waiting for your return . The western outskirts are dangerously close to the primary royal palace sector. If you don't execute the slaughter with absolute speed, the chronological probability of the Blood Tyrant’s immediate intrusion is...”
“One hundred percent,” I completed his sentence behind my crimson mask.
I didn't hesitate. Shifting my weight effortlessly, I unlatched the glass frame and stepped out into the freezing night sky, dropping into the dark capital alleys with Kiro running like a shadow right beside me. The final, desperate gambit of the Blood Kingdom arc had officially begun.
We crouched on the high stone ridge, looking down at the massive industrial complex below. Spread across the dark fields were exactly thirty-three massive warehouses, heavily fortified and teeming with sentries, researchers, and the remaining twelve high-captain-level human weapons.
My operational parameters were already locked in. I would slaughter the twelve Stones, eliminate every single researcher, and leave Grand Commander Kenon entirely to Kiro.
I drew the fated, modified black blade from my waist, its alloy humming in the freezing night air. “Are you ready, Kiro?”
Kiro’s monstrous right arm subtly expanded, the black parasitic tendrils twisting tightly around his hilt. “Born ready, kid.”
“Then let’s break the board.”
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Moving on a single, synchronized impulse of phantom agility, we launched a devastating combined frontline strike. The sheer concussive pressure of our initial shockwave thunderously tore through the perimeter, completely obliterating six massive warehouses in a single millisecond. Everyone caught inside the blast radius died instantly before they could even draw steel.
We blurred through the smoke like twin gods of death.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
“Stop right there! Who the hell are you—?!”
Before the perimeter alarm vipers could even form a proper defensive phalanx, nineteen of their fortified warehouses had already been reduced to smoldering rubble. A squad of elite guards frantically lunged toward us, but before they could form a stance, their heads were cleanly severed from their shoulders, trailing geysers of hot, metallic blood across the dirt. Kiro was moving with savage, unweighted ferocity.
VREEEEEEEEM!!!
The central base sirens shrieked violently through the capital outskirts. Thick, heavy rain clouds began to rapidly gather in the night sky, blotting out the stars.
“Just destroy every single one of them, Crimson!” Kiro roared.
SLASH!
A sudden, explosive arc of dark magic fiercely targeted Kiro's blind spot. He executed a flawless, low-angle dodge as the cobblestones beneath him shattered into dust. Based on the immense volume of mana radiating from the attacker's core, I analyzed him instantly. A Stone.
Grand Commander Kenon stepped out from the main command facility, surrounded by the remaining eleven human weapons. He glared at my crimson suit, his teeth grinding in pure rage. “You actually dared to return, Crimson Card!”
But as his gaze shifted to the figure standing directly on my right, Kenon’s crimson eyes violently widened, his aristocratic posture completely freezing in utter disbelief.
“Kiro...?” Kenon choked out, his voice shaking before morphing into a manic, blooddominant growl. “How dare you show your face back here... you miserable traitor!”
“Traitor?” Kiro whispered, his hollow eyes completely blank.
Kenon aggressively shifted his blade away from me, pointing the tip straight at his former best friend. “Listen to me, guards and Stones! Take care of the Crimson Card immediately! I will personally execute Kiro myself!”
DEATH’S GAMBIT.
The spectral deck manifested within my consciousness, the thirty-second countdown snapping into real-time calculation. Facing an entire army of elite guards and eleven high-captain-level monsters simultaneously, I mapped the psychological variables of the field:
DEATH’S GAMBIT
- King of Spades:The entire vanguard will launch a unified, simultaneous assault to overwhelm me.
- Queen of Spades:Only the eleven Stones will advance, while the standard guards hold the perimeter.
- Jack of Spades:The targets will hesitate, allowing me to execute the initial attack.
- Ace of Spades:The standard guards will rush forward first to create openings for the Stones.
Driven by feral bloodlust, the entire army charged forward all at once.
Flash.
The brilliant King of Spades card materialized before my eyes and abruptly shattered into black sparks.
An apocalyptic, suffocating torrent of supreme phantom mana explosively busted outward from my core. The crushing weight of the dark energy slammed into the battlefield like an invisible gravity hammer. Every single standard guard within a fifty-meter radius instantaneously lost consciousness, their eyes rolling back as they collapsed face-first into the dirt.
Only the eleven genetically engineered Stones remained upright, gritting their teeth through the pressure.
I spun both of my modified black twin blades over my shoulders, my crimson mask reflecting the fires of the burning warehouses. “Now... the massacre will formally commence.”
On the opposite side of the courtyard, Kenon rushed forward like a manic demon, his blade flaring with a catastrophic crimson magic as he targeted Kiro.
“If only you wouldn't have betrayed our brotherhood twelve years ago!” Kenon screamed, his eyes bloodshot.
“What the hell are you talking about, Kenon?!” Kiro shouted back.
Slash! Thud! BOOM!
Kenon launched a relentless, multi-directional flurry of lethal strikes, his steel cutting lines through the rain. But Kiro didn't counter-attack. He simply held his ground, using his deformed, monstrous right arm to calmly block and deflect every single frantic blow.
“Don't you dare lie to me!” Kenon wept, real tears of pure, agonizing grief finally spilling down his cheeks as he swung his sword with reckless fury. “I saw you that day, Kiro! Twelve years ago... I spotted you walking through the market with that royal princess! Trying to hide your face behind a pathetic travel mask was completely futile! I could recognize the silhouette of you or Ruken in total darkness! And then... when the wind blew... I saw her face!”
Suddenly, the puzzle pieces violently snapped together in Kiro’s brain.
Twelve years ago, Kenon had accidentally spotted him during his secret daytime walks with Princess Urena. Checking the variables for days, Kenon had jumped to the tragic conclusion that Kiro had turned his back on their revolution to ally with the fallen royalty. He thought his brother had abandoned them.
“Why did you betray us?!” Kenon shrieked, his voice breaking in total ruin. “You were our perfect Grand Commander! You possessed the strength, the charisma, the vision... everything! For a decade... I tried, and tried, and tried... but I was never able to manufacture a single Stone as perfect as you! Why?! Why did you leave me alone?!”
If Kiro still possessed his human tears, he would have openly wept alongside his childhood friend. But his empty eyes remained bone-dry.
Kiro didn't offer an answer. Shifting his weight with a seasoned military grace, he slipped past Kenon's reckless, emotional guard and delivered a single, precise, magic-reinforced strike to his temple.
Kenon’s eyes rolled back, his body completely short-circuiting as he collapsed heavily onto the wet cobblestones, completely unconscious.
Kiro stood over his fallen friend, the rain washing the blood off his grey skin as he stared down at his own monstrous claws.
“I want to ask that exact same question, Kenon...” Kiro whispered into the dark storm. “Why...? Why did my life have to turn out like this?”
Meanwhile, deep within the lavish guest wing of the royal palace, Erina Novalanch sat on the edge of her cot, preparing for sleep.
Suddenly, a sharp, violent prickle of cold danger shot through her spine. Extending her senses toward the western outskirts of the capital, her core detected a terrifyingly familiar, suffocating trace of dark magic.
Her internal conscience only screamed a single, definitive name: Erik.
Her eyes flared with pure, unyielding hatred. She grabbed her rapier and bolted into the dark corridor.
In the adjacent suite, Princess Quina violently sat up in her bed, her breath catching as she felt the exact same tragic, heavy resonance echoing through the night air.
The distinct frequency of that mana instantly dragged her mind back to the night of the slaughter—the day she was saved by the mysterious, crimson-eyed phantom in the ruined castle.
A flicker of absolute determination ignited within her elven blood. She tightly gripped her legendary sword, Tsukihime, strapped her concealment mask over her face, and prepared to step out into the bloody night to hunt for the truth.
Deep within the grand throne room, the Blood Tyrant sat motionless on his obsidian seat, listening to a high-ranking minister babble endlessly about local resource ledgers. Ruken’s mind wasn't on the papers; his thoughts were entirely consumed by the sudden disappearance of Kiro.
Suddenly, the air inside the throne room violently dropped.
Ruken felt it—the colossal, earth-shattering eruption of dark phantom energy exploding from the western outskirts.
The Blood Tyrant’s bored, deadpan expression instantaneously morphed into a wide, terrifyingly sinister grin [INDEX]. He abruptly stood up, his mountain-sized frame casting a shadow over the screaming minister.
“We will conclude this report tomorrow morning, Minister,” Ruken’s deep, dual-resonance echoed with an ecstatic, monstrous bloodlust through the hall. “Because tonight... Tonight is finally for fun.”
Throwing his tattered, starless cloak over his shoulders, the Blood Tyrant thundered out of the palace gates, advancing straight toward the battlefield.