Toki remained hidden inside the old wooden barrack long after dawn had broken.
Through the narrow cracks in the planks, thin beams of sunlight filtered in, cutting the dusty air into pale fragments. Outside, he could hear footsteps. Voices. Laughter. The metallic clatter of armor.
More and more knights were gathering on the training grounds.
Good.
That was exactly what he had been waiting for.
He stayed perfectly still, sitting on a low bench with his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely intertwined. His breathing was slow. Controlled. Almost unnaturally calm.
If I move too early… if I draw attention…
They'll start asking questions.
And questions lead to suspicion.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
After several minutes, when the noise outside had grown thick and constant, he finally stood.
He slipped out quietly.
The training field was already coming to life.
Knights moved in organized lines. Assistants carried crates. Junior officers shouted instructions. Flags were being planted to mark the examination zones.
Everything looked… normal.
Peaceful.
Almost beautiful.
Under the clear blue sky, with soft snow glittering like powdered crystal, it could have been a festival instead of a trial.
Toki walked forward slowly.
His people were already at work.
"Captain!"
One of the younger knights straightened immediately.
"We've started delimiting the zones."
"Good," Toki replied quietly. "Make sure the borders are visible. No overlaps."
"Yes, sir!"
He moved past them.
Wooden racks had been set in neat rows. Each one held training swords—polished, balanced, carefully maintained.
He stopped in front of the first rack.
Reached out.
Touched one.
The wood was smooth.
Cold.
Hard.
Perfectly reinforced.
He lifted it.
Weighed it in his hand.
Good craftsmanship…
No cracks… no weak points…
He took a step back.
Raised the sword.
And swung.
The blade cut through the air with a low whistle.
It struck the straw dummy.
With a thunderous impact.
The mannequin exploded.
Straw burst outward like a small storm. Wooden supports snapped. The torso split in half.
Several nearby knights froze.
"…Wow," someone muttered.
Toki lowered the sword slowly.
His expression didn't change.
"Replace it," he said calmly. "And reinforce the base."
"Yes, sir!"
He placed the sword back.
One by one, he tested several more.
Every strike was precise.
Controlled.
Deadly.
When he was done, he nodded.
"Good. These will hold."
An hour later, everything was ready.
The zones.
The equipment.
The observation posts.
The medical tents.
The emergency signals.
He gathered his subordinates.
"You're dismissed until the candidates arrive," he said. "Go eat. Stay nearby."
A few of them hesitated.
"But Captain—"
"I'll finish the questionnaires," he added. "That's an order."
They saluted.
And left.
Toki remained alone.
Inside a small tent, he sat at a narrow desk.
Stacks of parchment lay before him.
Each sheet bore a name.
Scores.
Evaluations.
He dipped his pen.
Carefully marked symbols.
Red dot — exceptional.
Green dot — competent.
Black dot — insufficient.
Transfer.
Reassignment.
Another chance.
Another burden.
Every dot is a future…
Every mark decides where they'll suffer next…
His hand trembled slightly.
He forced it to stop.
No.
Focus.
After finishing, he leaned back.
Exhaled.
"…Done."
Around noon, he finally left the tent.
And walked toward the city center.
The marketplace was enormous.
Hundreds of small stalls lined the streets. Colorful fabrics fluttered. Steam rose from food stands. Spices filled the air.
Preparations for the Snow Festival were in full swing.
Laughter.
Music.
Children running.
Merchants shouting.
Life.
He scanned the area.
Bernard…
Harold…
Reginald…
They were supposed to patrol.
Yet—
Only Reginald was there.
Standing near the central fountain.
Surrounded by his men.
When Toki approached, Reginald didn't even look at him.
Didn't greet him.
Didn't acknowledge him.
…Still angry.
Toki clenched his jaw.
He looked up.
The clock tower.
12:07 PM.
Still early…
Maybe Bernard and Harold are at the palace…
Then—
Something changed.
A shadow stretched unnaturally across the ground.
The light dimmed.
Slowly.
Like a curtain being pulled over the sky.
Toki raised his hand to shield his eyes.
"…Already?"
The lunar eclipse.
It was beginning.
Earlier than expected.
His heartbeat skipped.
Then—
The smell hit him.
Blood.
Rotten.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
It flooded his lungs.
His vision blurred.
"…No…"
His knees weakened.
"Not again…"
His hands began to shake.
"Not now… please… not now…"
Pain exploded in his skull.
Warm liquid ran down his face.
He touched his nose.
Red.
He wiped under his eyes.
More red.
"…Damn it…"
He activated his spiritual sight.
Instantly—
The world transformed.
A thick, dark miasma rose from the ground.
Like fog.
Like smoke.
It crawled over buildings.
Over people.
Into their bodies.
"…This… this is…"
Horror filled him.
"No… it can't be…"
Screams erupted.
Behind him.
He turned.
Reginald's knights were fighting.
One drove his sword into another's chest.
A man tore out his comrade's throat with his teeth.
Someone smashed a skull with a hammer.
Blood sprayed.
"STOP!" Toki shouted. "STOP IT!"
No one listened.
His own men—
They were attacking too.
Slashing.
Biting.
Ripping flesh.
Like beasts.
Like monsters.
Merchants were dragged from stalls.
Women screamed.
Children were crushed.
A mother shielded her son—
And was torn apart.
"NO! STOP! PLEASE!"
Toki ran forward.
Grabbed a knight.
Shook him.
"LOOK AT ME! IT'S ME!"
The man's eyes were empty.
Foaming.
He bit Toki's shoulder.
Toki pushed him away.
Stumbled.
Fell.
The blood pool grew.
A river of red.
Flowing through the streets.
"Why…"
Toki whispered.
"Why is this happening…?"
He collapsed to his knees.
"I prepared… I planned… I watched everything…"
"So why…?"
Tears mixed with blood.
"I can't… I can't stop it…"
The noise was unbearable.
Screams.
Cracking bones.
Wet tearing sounds.
He crawled backward.
He hid in a narrow alley.
Pressed his back against a frozen wall.
Panting.
Gasping.
"I… can't…"
His body trembled violently.
"I'm useless… I'm useless…"
"The star collector didn't have this ability, I was expecting invisible attacks, beasts, but this smell is so familiar and yet so different."
" Did he bring reinforcements, what's the point of all this, is it the eclipse?"
He covered his face.
"Why… why… why…?"
DEEP BREATH.
"Think."
"Think, Toki."
"Think!"
Then—
It hit him.
Like lightning.
His eyes widened.
"…The palace."
"They're there."
"If this spreads…"
"They'll die."
His heart stopped.
"I won't let that happen."
He stood.
Wiped his face.
Blood smeared his sleeve.
He ran.
A knight lunged at him—
He knocked him aside.
A woman grabbed his leg—
He freed himself.
He jumped over corpses.
Slipped in blood.
Fell.
Got up.
Ran again.
"MOVE!"
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
Buildings burned.
Stalls collapsed.
Animals screamed.
The capital was drowning.
In red.
In fear.
In despair.
"This is my fault…"
he thought.
"If I had seen it…"
"If I had acted sooner…"
His lungs burned.
His vision darkened.
But he kept running.
Toward the palace.....
The lunar eclipse surprised the Maho mansion
Inside the courtyard, Ozvold stood beside a long wooden carriage.
It wasn't luxurious.
It wasn't decorated.
It was practical.
Reinforced wheels.
Thick leather coverings.
Extra supplies tied to the sides.
Everything was arranged with military precision.
He checked the straps again.
Then again.
Then once more.
"…Still not tight enough," he muttered.
He pulled harder.
The leather creaked.
Satisfied, he stepped back.
For a moment, he simply stared at the caravan.
This is it…
The first real step.
No more training games.
No more pretending.
From now on… it's the real world.
Behind him, light footsteps approached.
"Ozvold?"
He turned.
Kandaki stood there.
Dressed in his examination uniform.
Clean.
Neatly pressed.
Sword at his side.
His hair was combed carefully, though a few rebellious strands still refused to behave.
He looked… different.
Older.
More serious.
More determined.
Ozvold felt something tighten in his chest.
"…You're up early," Ozvold said quietly.
Kandaki nodded.
"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "I kept thinking… what if I mess up?"
Ozvold walked toward him.
Stopped in front of him.
Placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You will mess up," he said bluntly.
Kandaki blinked.
"…What?"
"You'll stumble," Ozvold continued. "You'll hesitate. You'll doubt yourself."
He looked him straight in the eyes.
"And you'll survive it."
Kandaki slowly relaxed.
"…You always say things in the scariest way possible."
Ozvold smirked faintly.
"Occupational habit."
From the entrance of the manor, two figures rushed out.
"WAIT!"
"DON'T LEAVE WITHOUT US!"
Utsuki and Tora ran across the courtyard.
Utsuki's hair was half tied.
Her cloak was crooked.
She was clearly still waking up.
Tora followed behind, panting.
"Utsuki… slow down…!"
They stopped in front of them.
Utsuki placed her hands on her knees.
"…We're… coming too."
Ozvold frowned.
"No, you're not."
"Yes, we are," she replied immediately.
Kandaki looked between them.
"…You don't have to—"
"We want to," Utsuki interrupted gently.
She smiled at him.
"This is important to you."
"So it's important to us."
Kandaki felt his throat tighten.
"…Thank you."
Tora grinned.
"Besides," she added, "if you become famous, we can say we knew you first."
"Don't say embarrassing things," Utsuki scolded.
Ozvold sighed.
"…You're all insane."
But he didn't stop them.
Umma stood at the far end of the courtyard.
Powerful.
She lowered her head slightly when she saw Kandaki.
A soft, warm sound escaped her throat.
Ozvold climbed onto the front platform.
Took the reins.
Checked the harness.
Once more.
"…All aboard," he said.
Kandaki climbed in first.
Utsuki followed.
Then Tora.
They settled inside the covered compartment.
Soft cushions.
Blankets.
Emergency supplies.
It felt almost like a traveling home.
Ozvold mounted fully.
Lifted the whip.
Paused.
Looked back at them.
"You ready?" he asked.
Kandaki straightened.
His hands clenched into fists.
Then relaxed.
He took a deep breath.
And said, firmly:
"It's time."
They all looked at him.
"I'm done being just a student," Kandaki continued.
"I'm done hiding behind others."
His voice trembled slightly.
"But I won't run away."
"I'll become a real knight."
"Like my master."
"Like Toki."
"I'll be someone who protects."
Silence followed.
Then—
Utsuki smiled.
Ozvold closed his eyes briefly.
Damn it…
He's grown too fast…
He cracked the whip.
"Hyah!"
Umma launched forward.
The ground shook.
Snow scattered.
Wind rushed past.
The caravan surged ahead.
Faster.
Faster.
The road stretched forward like a promise.
Inside, Kandaki watched the landscape fly past.
Everything looked smaller from here.
This is it…
No turning back…
He touched the hilt of his sword.
Master…
Are you watching?
I won't disappoint you...
Toki reached the palace gates with burning lungs and trembling legs.
He almost didn't recognize the place.
The wide training grounds—once neat, organized, filled with discipline and hope—had turned into a slaughterhouse.
Children were fighting.
Two boys rolled in the snow, teeth sinking into flesh.
A girl smashed a wooden sword into another's skull again and again, screaming.
Blood soaked the ground.
Bodies lay twisted in unnatural positions.
Some were still moving.
Some were not.
Toki froze.
His voice barely existed.
"This… this wasn t supposed to be their future…"
He forced himself forward.
"Stop!" he shouted. "Stop it!"
No one listened.
A boy rushed at him with a broken blade.
Eyes empty.
Foam on his lips.
Toki pushed him away.
Hard.
Too hard.
The child fell.
Hit a stone.
A dull crack echoed.
Silence.
Toki stared.
The boy didn't move.
Blood spread beneath his head.
"…I…"
His hands shook.
"I didn't mean…"
But there was no time.
Another scream erupted nearby.
He ran.
Inside the palace, it was worse.
So much worse.
Blood covered the walls.
Paintings were torn apart.
Banners burned.
The marble floors were red and slippery.
Broken armor lay everywhere.
Swords embedded in corpses.
Shields split in half.
Knights were still fighting.
Bernard's men.
Harold's men.
Friends.
Brothers.
Slaughtering each other.
One knight stabbed another through the eye.
A second later, he was cut down.
Toki tried to grab someone.
"Listen to me!"
A blade slashed past his face.
He jumped back.
"…Damn it!"
He ran.
Dodged.
Slipped.
Fell.
Got up.
Again and again.
Toward the throne room.
Toward the heart of the nightmare.
The doors were half-open.
Cracked.
Broken.
He pushed them.
They creaked loudly.
Inside—
Silence.
A heavy, unnatural silence.
And in the center—
The throne.
King Mathias sat there.
Motionless.
A sword was driven straight through his chest.
Pinning him to the seat.
His eyes were open.
Empty.
Frozen in shock.
Blood had dried around the blade.
Toki's breath stopped.
"…King… Mathias…"
Then he saw them.
Bernard.
Standing nearby.
Bent over.
Panting.
Covered in blood.
Hands.
Arms.
Face.
All red.
And—
Harold.
Lying on the floor.
Head separated from his body.
Eyes staring into nothing.
Toki staggered.
"…Bernard…"
His voice broke.
"…Why…?"
Bernard lifted his head slowly.
His eyes were bloodshot.
But strangely gentle.
"I'm the older brother," Bernard said quietly.
His voice trembled.
"I couldn't let them suffer."
"I couldn't let them scream."
"I couldn't let them beg."
"So…"
He swallowed.
"I killed them quickly."
Toki shook his head.
"No…"
"No, Bernard… listen…"
He stepped closer.
"We can fix this."
"This isn't you."
"Just… just put the sword down."
Bernard smiled.
Warm.
Loving.
"I love you like a brother, Toki."
"That's why…"
"I can't let you suffer anymore."
"I can't let you carry this."
"So don't resist."
Before Toki could react—
Bernard rushed forward.
Sword raised.
Eyes blazing.
"TOKI—!"
A blur crossed Toki's vision.
For a fraction of a second, the world seemed to stretch.
Time slowed.
Steel flashed.
A sharp, silver arc cutting through the air.
Bernard screamed.
Not in anger.
Not in rage.
But in shock.
In disbelief.
His arm separated from his body.
Blood erupted.
Hot.
Violent.
It painted the marble in dark red streaks.
The severed limb hit the floor with a wet, hollow sound.
Thud.
Bernard staggered.
Eyes wide.
Mouth trembling.
He stared at the empty space where his arm had been.
"…Ah…"
No sound came out.
Then—
Ozvold stood between them.
Chest rising.
Falling.
Rising.
His blade dripped.
Each drop echoed in the silence.
Plink.
Plink.
Plink.
"Stay back," Ozvold said.
His voice was rough.
Strained.
But steady.
Toki's heart slammed into his ribs.
"Ozvold…!"
Bernard's face twisted.
Pain.
Rage.
All mixed together.
"You…"
"You traitor…!"
He roared.
Like a wounded animal.
He lunged.
Ignoring the blood.
Ignoring the pain.
The sword pierced straight through Ozvold's chest.
Shnk.
A dull, sickening sound.
"OZVOLD!"
Toki screamed.
Ozvold gasped.
His body jerked.
Blood exploded from his mouth.
It dripped down his chin.
Stained his shirt.
His knees nearly gave out.
But he didn't fall.
He looked at Toki.
And smiled.
A small.
Tired.
Genuine smile.
"…Guess… I still… got it," he whispered.
Then—
With the last of his strength—
He lifted his blade.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Every movement tore through him.
Muscles screamed.
Bones shook.
He drove it upward.
Straight into Bernard's throat.
The blade slid in.
Easy.
Like cutting wet cloth.
Bernard's roar turned into a gargled sound.
Blood poured from his mouth.
From his neck.
From his eyes.
His body went limp.
Both men collapsed.
Silence followed.
Toki ran.
He didn't remember moving.
One moment he was standing—
The next, he was on his knees beside Ozvold.
Hands shaking.
Heart tearing apart.
"Don't… don't die…"
His voice cracked.
He pressed his hands against Ozvold's wound.
Useless.
Blood slipped through his fingers.
Warm.
Endless.
"I'm here…"
"I'm here, okay…?"
"Just… stay with me…"
Ozvold coughed.
Blood splattered Toki's sleeve.
His eyes were already losing focus.
But he forced them open.
"Listen…"
His voice was barely sound.
"Utsuki…"
"…the kids…"
"They're… outside…"
"In the caravan…"
Toki grabbed his hand.
Held it tightly.
As if he could pull him back.
"Then we'll go together," Toki said desperately.
"All of us."
"I won't leave you."
Ozvold shook his head.
Slowly.
"No…"
"It's… too late… for me…"
He swallowed.
Pain rippled through him.
"But… not for you…"
He squeezed Toki's hand.
With surprising strength.
"Live."
"Please…"
Toki's eyes filled.
"No, don't say that…"
"We'll find help…"
"I'll carry you if I have to…"
Ozvold smiled again.
Soft.
Peaceful.
Like someone who had already accepted the end.
"…You were… always stubborn," he murmured.
Then—
With trembling fingers—
He reached for his fallen sword.
Toki noticed too late.
"Ozvold—wait—!"
Without hesitation.
Without fear.
Without regret.
Ozvold drove the blade into his own heart.
Deep.
Final.
His body stiffened.
Once.
Then relaxed.
All strength left him.
All warmth faded.
His hand slipped from Toki's grasp.
Lifeless.
Empty.
Toki froze.
For a second—
His mind refused to accept it.
"…Ozvold…?"
No answer.
"…Hey…"
"Stop joking…"
Still nothing.
Then reality hit.
Like a blade through his chest.
"NO!"
He screamed.
He wrapped his arms around Ozvold's body.
Shaking him.
Begging.
Crying.
"Please…"
"Come back…"
"Please…"
The world kept collapsing.
And Toki had to run.
He ran.
Out of the palace.
Through shattered doors.
Into the snow.
The cold air hit his lungs like knives.
But he didn't slow down.
"…They're alive…"
His breath came in broken clouds.
"They have to be…"
He repeated it like a prayer.
Like a spell.
Like something that could force reality to obey him.
"They're alive."
"They're waiting for me."
Beyond the gates—
He saw it.
A caravan.
Dark against the white snow.
Still.
Untouched.
His heart leaped so violently it hurt.
"That's them."
Relief flooded him.
Painful.
Blinding.
"They made it…"
He stumbled forward.
Almost laughing.
Almost crying.
"I'm coming!"
His boots slipped in blood-stained snow.
But he didn't notice.
Didn't think.
Didn't feel.
He reached the caravan.
Hands shaking.
He grabbed the wooden edge—
And looked inside.
For one second—
His mind refused to understand.
Shapes.
Red.
Too much red.
Then the smell hit him.
Rot.
Opened flesh.
His stomach twisted violently.
He staggered back.
And vomited into the snow.
Over and over.
Nothing left inside him—
Yet his body kept trying.
"No…"
He forced himself to look again.
Forced himself.
Because maybe—
Maybe he was mistaken.
Maybe it wasn't them.
It was them.
Utsuki.
Her body twisted unnaturally.
One arm missing.
The other bent the wrong way.
Her fingers frozen mid-grasp—
As if she had tried to shield someone.
Her face—
Her eyes—
Still open.
Still terrified.
Tora.
Jaw broken.
Teeth scattered across the wooden floor.
Both legs shattered.
Flesh torn from her side.
As if something had fed on her while he was still alive.
Kandaki.
One leg completely gone.
His chest ripped open.
Tiny hands clenched into fists.
As if he had tried to fight.
As if he had tried to be brave.
Just like he promised.
Toki collapsed.
His knees slammed into the snow.
His vision blurred.
His ears rang.
"No no no no no…"
He crawled closer.
Hands trembling.
Touched Utsuki's hair.
It was stiff.
Frozen.
Cold.
"I was coming…"
His voice broke.
"I was right there…"
He touched Kandaki's face.
"…You said you'd become a knight…"
He pressed his forehead against the caravan's edge.
"I was too late…"
A voice cut through the silence.
"Disgusting, isn't it?"
Toki didn't react at first.
He couldn't.
Then—
Slowly—
He looked up.
A tall man sat where the driver should have been.
Relaxed.
Cross-legged.
Blond hair moved slightly in the winter wind.
Green eyes.
Bright.
Amused.
He wore white.
Immaculate.
Untouched by blood.
His right arm was missing.
Cleanly severed.
He smiled.
"I told you I'd be back in three days."
His tone was light.
Almost conversational.
"I expected better preparation."
He glanced at the bodies casually.
"But teamwork makes everything easier."
Toki stared at him.
Breathing shallow.
"…You…"
His voice was hollow.
"…You were behind this…"
The man laughed softly.
"Behind it?"
He tilted his head.
"More like we."
"I can't take all the credit."
He gestured vaguely toward the city.
"This massacre was a group effort."
His eyes returned to Toki.
Bright.
Satisfied.
"Now we're even."
A pause.
"You took my hand."
He lifted the empty sleeve slightly.
"I took your family."
The words didn't feel real.
They floated.
Meaningless.
Eight shapes emerged from the snow.
Large.
Deformed.
Boar-like beasts with thick tusks and matted fur.
Their eyes glowed faintly.
Saliva dripped from jagged mouths.
They circled the caravan.
Low growls vibrating in the air.
Toki didn't move.
Didn't react.
He just stared at the man.
"Easy, boys," the man said calmly.
"Our job is done."
Toki's body gave out.
He fell forward.
Hands buried in snow stained red.
Tears spilled silently.
Then violently.
"Kill me…"
He whispered it into the cold.
"Kill me…"
Louder.
"Kill me."
Again.
And again.
And again.
The man stepped down from the driver's seat.
Boots crunching in snow.
He crouched in front of Toki.
Close enough for Toki to see the reflection of himself in those green eyes.
Broken.
Pathetic.
Empty.
"My dear friend…"
His voice softened.
"I never wanted to kill you."
He studied Toki's trembling hands.
"What a pity… You were so eager to see me again, and now you can't even bring yourself to look at me — you wound me, Toki."
"Oh… don't look at me like that. I told you I would come. I even told you the day."
"But I can't blame you for choosing to indulge yourself these past few days — this pathetic kingdom was already on the verge of collapse anyway."
"Good luck in this world… Perhaps fate will bring us together once more."
"But now…"
A faint smile returned.
"I've fulfilled my role."
His body began to fade.
Edges turning transparent.
Like mist dissolving in sunlight.
The beasts dissolved with him.
Their growls thinning into nothing.
"No—"
Toki reached out.
"COME BACK!"
His scream tore through the gates.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
The snow answered with silence.
The wind blew gently.
As if nothing had happened.
Toki lay there in the snow.
For a long time.
He didn't feel the cold anymore.
Didn't feel his hands.
Didn't feel his heart.
Only emptiness.
Eventually—
Slowly—
He pushed himself up.
Like a puppet.
Like something already dead.
He approached the caravan again.
He didn't look at their faces this time.
He couldn't.
He gathered Utsuki first.
Careful.
Gentle.
As if she might wake.
Then Tora.
Then Kandaki.
Then he turned.
Carrying all of them.
Step by step.
Back toward the palace.
The palace was silent now.
Everyone was dead.
Toki walked to the throne.
Kicked Mathias' corpse aside.
Sat down.
Placed the bodies before him.
He looked at them.
Utsuki.
Still beautiful.
Even in death.
Tora.
Still smiling faintly.
Kandaki...
"…I failed you…"
His voice cracked.
Toki looked down at the floor.
His closest friends… the people he had considered brothers… were killing each other.
Their bodies, scattered among the wreckage and blood, formed a scene too horrific to bear. Flames licked the broken armor, and the snow outside could no longer hide any of the devastation.
How could I have let this happen?
There were more than one Star Collector.
The first had merely tested the waters… now the real assault had begun.
All of my people are dead.
My lady is dead.
My apprentices are dead.
The civilians… dead.
Tears poured down his face in torrents.
Why do I always have to be the one left alive?
Why does everyone abandon me?
Toki's hands shook uncontrollably.
He reached for the revolver—the one Bernard had given him.
Cold metal pressed against his temple.
"…Too late…" he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of everything he had seen.
"For all of us," he murmured again, louder this time, almost as if speaking to the ghosts of his fallen friends, to the lifeless eyes of Utsuki, Tora, Kandaki… to the shattered city itself.
Bang.
The shot echoed like thunder through the throne room.
Blood erupted from his head, hot and sudden, propelling fragments of skull and brain across the stone floor.
The revolver slipped from his fingers, clattering violently against the marble
The world had ended, and he was the only witness.