The blind swordsman inclined his head slightly, as if acknowledging a sacred decree. His lips curved—not in cruelty, but in acceptance of order restored.
A moment later, the air stirred. A whisper of wind, faint and cold, brushed through the crowd. No one saw him move. Not even a flicker of motion betrayed the act. It was as though time itself blinked.
Then—shhhhk!
A faint line of light appeared along the booth owner's left arm. For one heartbeat, nothing happened. Then his arm fell cleanly to the ground.
He screamed. A raw, animal sound that tore through the tense silence. Blood splattered across the wooden floor of the betting booth, and the man crumpled, clutching the stump in horror.
Gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire.
"Did you see him move?"
"No—he didn't even draw his blade!"
"Unbelievable… the Blind Swordsman truly doesn't need eyes to strike."
The crowd's fear was mixed with awe. Many had heard tales of Naze, but few had ever witnessed the legend. Now they knew why the Emperor revered him a lot, some even called him "the Blade of Silence."
Ouake and Ouale watched wide-eyed, their golden coins glinting on the counter beside them. For a brief moment, neither spoke—the weight of what had just happened settling in.
Then Ouake smirked faintly. "That's what greed buys you."
Ouale nudged her twin, half horrified, half exhilarated. "He didn't even swing…"
Naze turned toward them, his head tilting slightly. "Justice is done," he said, his voice calm and deliberate—like the final note of a sacred hymn. "Take your winnings… and walk with me."
The twins hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other before scooping up the hundred gold coins. Their hands trembled—not from greed or excitement, but from the lingering echo of what they'd just witnessed.
Around them, the crowd parted instinctively. No one dared step too close to the blind swordsman. Whispers followed him like shadows—soft, reverent, and fearful—as he guided the two girls through the narrow aisles of the bustling arena.
Behind them, the booth owner's cries faded into the distance. The metallic scent of blood still lingered in the air, a grim reminder that mercy, in Naze's world, was not given freely.
As they left the noise of the betting stalls behind, the energy of the crowd slowly dimmed. The sound of horns and cheers from the stadium turned into a faint hum in the distance.
Finally, Naze stopped before a secluded courtyard at the far edge of the arena. It was a small, tranquil space filled with flowers of every kind—azure lilies, golden lotuses, blood-red thorns, and pale moon orchids that shimmered faintly under the afternoon sun. The gentle hum of bees and the perfume of blossoms wrapped the air in calm.
The twins exchanged puzzled glances. A man of blades… standing among flowers?
"Why here?" Ouake asked softly.
Naze tilted his head upward, though his blindfolded eyes never moved. "Because truth blooms best in silence," he said, lowering himself to sit by a cluster of white carnations.
The girls followed, still clutching their gold coins like charms of safety. They sat across from him, waiting, curiosity and unease mingling in their young faces.
"I want to tell you a story," Naze began, his tone changing—lower, distant, tinged with memory. "A story that will enlighten you… and answer questions you didn't know you had."
Ouake and Ouale looked at each other, uncertain but intrigued. Slowly, they nodded.
"Years ago," Naze continued, "before I ever met the Emperor, before I was called 'the Blade of Silence,' I was nothing more than a palace guard. Young. Reckless. Proud." He paused, as though tasting the old air of his memories. "I had a woman I loved dearly. Her name was Nymia. She was light itself to me—gentle, fierce, and beautiful beyond words."
The twins froze.
Nymia.
Their mother's name.
Ouale's lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Ouake's fingers clenched around the coins.
The twins gasped because Nymia was the name of their mother, but they decided to calm down and listen before jumping to conclusions.
Naze didn't seem to notice their reaction. His face, though covered, reflected pain and nostalgia. "But fate… it is a cruel master. Prince Alloysius—the Emperor's half brother—laid his eyes upon her. He desired her, and in those days, his word carried power that even the warriors of the empire hesitated to challenge."
He exhaled softly, as though each word cost him a measure of peace.
"I was warned," Naze said quietly, his voice a whisper of memory and regret. "I was told to let her go. But I was young, stubborn… foolish. And I married her anyway."
He drew in a slow breath, his head lowering slightly as though he could still see that moment in his mind.
"When Prince Aloysius found out about our marriage, he smiled in public, but I saw the rage behind his eyes. He wore a façade—calm, generous, noble. He even came to our wedding, offered gifts, and congratulated us before everyone."
Naze's jaw tightened. "But behind that smile was venom."
He paused, the scent of flowers filling the silence like a gentle dirge.
"On the night of the wedding, a messenger arrived with a royal decree. I was to be conscripted immediately into the army of Prince Balek." His tone darkened, his fingers curling slightly around his cane. "No explanation. No delay. I had no choice. I still believed prince Alloysius must have begged his brother to do that to me."
Ouake and Ouale listened, frozen, their hearts thudding softly in the quiet garden.
"Within the following weeks, the harassment began," Naze continued. "I was beaten, mocked, and starved. And when the prince's men came, they made sure I would never again look upon the world—or her face. They blinded me, then left me for dead."
The twins gasped, and Ouale instinctively covered her mouth.
He tilted his head slightly, his blindfold catching the sunlight. "That is how I lost my sight. Yet fate—strange and cruel—wasn't finished with me. By the end of that same month, I was placed among the condemned soldiers sent to Region Thirty-Two… to attack the last born prince of the old empire."
His voice steadied now, firm with reverence. "Prince Josh—the man who is now your emperor."
He smiled faintly. "You know the story, I'm sure. He defeated us all—decisively. Yet he did not kill us. He captured us and offered something I had never known before: mercy. He watched us carefully, tested our loyalty, and for those who proved faithful… he gave purpose again."
He lifted his chin slightly, as if meeting the gaze of an invisible past. "That's how I became his general. The Blind Sword of the Emperor. But through all those years of war and glory, I searched for her—your mother, Nymia."
The twins exchanged looks, trembling.