Chapter 27 – The Last Breath of Darkness
Blue and black.
Flame and shadow.
Blade and curse.
Two bodies. Two wills.
Clashing within a single moment.
Stone walls cracked.
The earth split open beneath them.
Murad no longer stepped back.
The Sword of the Fatih swirled around him like a blue tempest.
With each strike, Sabbah was pushed further back.
His dark eyes narrowed, sweat dripping from his brow.
Tsshh!
Another blow.
Sabbah blocked it—
But still slid backward.
"This… isn't how it should end," he thought.
Suddenly, he reached once more toward the black crystal.
Hhhhhhh...
A stream of obsidian flowed into his veins.
His eyes flashed dark.
The blade in his hand surged in size for a moment.
Murad sensed it.
"No… I must not only block this… I must end it."
He took a deep breath.
Gripped his sword with both hands.
And—
He doubled the power of the blue flame.
The blade trembled in his hands.
Flames danced along his shoulders.
Blue cracks etched themselves down his body.
He had passed the limit.
But he did not stop.
He couldn't.
Sabbah's strike came.
TSSSH!
With a single motion, Murad swung upward,
shattering the shadow strike mid-air.
And in that instant—
"HAAAAAAH!"
Murad lunged forward.
The Sword of the Fatih crashed like thunder.
Before Sabbah could react,
the blade pierced straight through his heart.
THUNK.
Everything froze.
Sabbah's eyes widened.
His body trembled.
Yet he kept moving.
He raised his hands,
entered an attack stance.
But—
A single drop fell from his mouth.
Blackened blood.
Then, from his eyes,
the same darkness flowed.
He took a step.
And another.
Then stumbled.
For a few seconds,
he still believed he was fighting.
But the body no longer obeyed.
He looked at Murad—
and smiled.
"At last..."
And then—
His knees gave out.
He collapsed.
As he hit the ground,
his body transformed into a cloud of black smoke.
The cursed power within him
spiraled into the sky like a vortex of shadows.
The wind scattered it.
What remained
was only the crystal
that had hung from his neck.
Tingk.
It struck the stone floor.
And lay there—still.
The battle was over.
But the night…
was not.
Murad's breath slowly calmed.
Sabbah was gone.
The darkness had receded.
He had won.
But—
Hhhhhh...
A sudden jolt spread through his veins.
A sharp pain in his chest…
spreading to his shoulders, his spine, his legs.
"Aaaahh…"
He groaned involuntarily.
He tried to take a step—
but his knees gave way.
His sword dropped from his hand.
And Murad—
Collapsed.
His eyes remained open.
But he could no longer control his body.
His muscles trembled.
His thoughts were blurred.
He had drawn too much power.
"It was too much…"
"I crossed the threshold… shattered the barrier…
but I was unprepared for what lay beyond."
The blue flames rising from his body
now burned his skin—
searing beneath it.
The pain…
was like screaming without a voice.
Silent, but consuming.
And then—
A voice echoed from deep within his mind.
A memory.
A face.
His brother—Osman.
Back when they were young,
sitting together on the stone terrace after a training session.
Words whispered to him like a forgotten scripture:
"This power is not our enemy… but neither is it our friend.
It will treat you the way you treat it."
"If you ever cross the limit…
and realize you can't turn back—
imagine it like pouring water into a bowl.
Be gentle.
Don't spill.
Don't force it.
Let it fill—slowly, carefully—until it fits."
Tears welled in Murad's eyes.
Not from pain.
But from the purifying clarity of remembering a lesson
born in shadow.
With effort,
he pressed his hands to the stone floor.
Gathered his trembling knees.
And—
Sat in lotus position.
Placed his hands on his knees.
Closed his eyes.
A deep breath.
Then another.
The blue flames still wrapped around his body—
But they no longer burned.
Because Murad
had chosen to tame the storm within.
The power…
he no longer unleashed like a flood—
but gathered, slowly and gently,
like water filling a stone bowl.
The flames did not rise.
They dissolved—
within.
The blue light became
an energy coursing beneath his skin.
No longer searing—
but flowing.
Harmonious.
Calm.
His forehead was soaked with sweat.
But his breathing was steady.
And—
He opened his eyes.
They still glowed blue.
But not the blue of flame—
The blue of a wolf's gaze.
Deep.
Wise.
Unyielding.