Deep within the forest.
The darkness felt thick and viscous. Time itself seemed to have halted—making it impossible to tell what hour or minute it was.
Two figures stared at each other through the curtain of rain.
If one ignored the lethal pressure that seemed to cut the rainfall itself, and the fact that the distance between them was far from 'safe conversation range', then perhaps the atmosphere could even be called... peaceful.
Jade's voice rang out amidst the downpour. Unlike the soft and sultry tone of the woman Allen had decapitated earlier, his voice was low and laced with mockery.
"Oi, Ghislane. The hardened lower stance forged by countless drills in the Kenshin Ryū (Sword God Style)... If that stability is lost, all sword techniques that use it as a core lose their threat. In that case, you're just a helpless little kitten, aren't you? The only Ken'ō (Sword King) of Kenshin Ryū... Princess of the beastmen?"
As he spoke, the air tore open with a sharp sound!
A bolt flew for Ghislane's face—only to be parried by her with a swift Heisō (Calm Slash).
Her angry eyes glared through the dark rain at Jade, another beastman like herself. She retaliated with a flash of sword ki, slicing through the mud in front of her—but Jade dodged with ease from ten meters away.
"Look at you. Without lower body stability, even your sword ki becomes disappointing. You rely too much on the theoretical framework of Kenshin Ryū that helped you become a Ken'ō... It's made you rigid and bound to doctrine."
Jade circled around her casually, as if chatting with a friend on a stroll—though with each word, he loosed another bolt, masked behind his voice.
The bolts kept flying, each one parried again by Ghislane—but her eyes darted quickly around, seeking a way to escape her predicament.
Around her was a man-made swamp, five meters wide, its foamy surface constantly churned by the downpour. Her body was submerged up to her waist.
This trap had been dug earlier by Jade's trio, taking advantage of the rainy night. If it were just mud, Ghislane could have escaped using her quadruped form. But...
The swamp had been treated.
She'd been stuck there for nearly thirty minutes now, waiting for the rain to dilute the unknown substance. Only now was she beginning to feel a slight sense of traction beneath her feet.
Just a bit more rain...
Jade noticed the subtle change in her expression and sneered. He tossed several red orbs into the swamp. Ghislane growled and tried to blast them away with her sword ki—but the orbs exploded mid-air upon impact.
Their contents rained down into the muck.
The moment her feet had gained some traction—gone again.
Trying to stay upright, she finally lost her temper and roared:
"Jade!!! I'll kill you!!!"
Her voice shattered the gloom, echoing through the rainy forest with ferocity.
Jade flinched, body tensing. He sighed with relief when no dōki (fighting spirit) followed her roar. In truth, her sword ki was still dangerously precise—after all, she was a Ken'ō.
But breaking her spirit through words was part of his nature as a Hokushin Ryū (North God Style) swordsman. His bolts weren't meant to kill—just to distract and disorient.
Psychological warfare.
He couldn't approach recklessly.
Hence the stalemate.
Jade stroked the crossbow in his hand and resumed his mocking tone.
"Everyone says Kenshin Ryū is stronger than Hokushin Ryū. But its biggest flaw is recklessness—especially you, Ghislane."
"The moment we met, before you even figured out our goal, your sword was already swinging—faster than your muscle-for-brains could process."
"Yes, sure, Hikari no Tachi (Light Blade) is great for killing. But you stepped straight into a trap—so who exactly did you slash? My brother risked his life luring you out... not a bad trade."
Another bolt flew—deflected again.
But now Jade pulled out more of those red orbs from his cloak.
"Hokushin Ryū—Akamoku."
A special concoction used exclusively by Hokushin Ryū swordsmen—an "anointed weapon" of sorts. Upon impact, the contents splatter and affect the terrain.
Used once by the Northern Emperor Aubel during the Asura throne war to stop Eris and Ghislane.
In its original form, the Akamoku's contents were sticky and effective on dry ground—but easily washed away by rain.
This version?
Water-activated lubricant.
Perfect for muddy terrain.
Its purpose: To expose the flaws in any Kenshin Ryū style that relies on a solid stance.
Few had ever seen it. Fewer still lived.
It was a secret art—one of many strange tricks of the Kibaha faction of Hokushin Ryū.
After all, what's a "trick" if everyone knows it?
Jade smiled confidently. He watched Ghislane's expression and sensed she was near breaking point.
"I bet my brother has already succeeded. I've only stalled you this long to wait for reinforcements. What are you waiting for? A corpse? Or your own death?"
"I'LL KILL YOU!!"
Her voice cracked the sky again.
Jade grinned, lowering his rabbit-like ears to block out the sound.
"Aiyaa~ stop shouting. What's the point? In a few minutes, your death is certain. Just die peacefully, won't you? Honestly, this job's pay is great. I should thank you for being so pathetic. Look at you—panic-stricken. Deep down, you don't actually believe that Water Saint brat is coming to save you, right?"
"You even claimed earlier he'd kill my brother—what a joke."
He aimed his crossbow directly at her.
"Where does your confidence even come from? It's ridiculous. Him? Don't make me laugh."
Rain fell.
Wind howled.
Leaves rustled.
And in that noise—
Came the faintest sound of footsteps.
But Jade heard it.
A familiar Hokushin Ryū stealth stride.
At the same time, a voice echoed in his plugged ears—
"Jade?"
His face lit up.
He turned instinctively toward the sound—
But something felt off.
Wasn't that voice... not his brother's?
Too late.
He had already turned.
He saw the familiar face of his brother—
But his neck felt cold.
His thoughts stalled.
Plop.
Jade's head fell to the ground.
Blood exploded into the night.
A figure emerged silently from behind, dragging blood into the earth where it formed a pale red puddle—washed away instantly by the rain.
The severed head of Nacule dangled from the man's hand, arm extended before him.
From the swamp, Ghislane's roar faded instantly—like an illusion.
Their eyes met.
Through rain and blood.
Time itself rippled.
——
Ten minutes earlier.
Five kilometers away.
In the forest, the wind carried information.
Broken branches.
Displaced leaves.
Water pooled unnaturally in the dirt.
Not caused by rain or animals.
This was a trail deliberately obscured by dōki, stirring the mud to hide tracks.
It was recent.
Despite the downpour, Allen was steadily closing in on Nacule.
His body cut through the rain like a spear.
This chase had lasted nearly ten minutes. But as he closed the distance, the signs became more obvious.
A disturbance in the wind—
Something small and agile was fleeing ahead, disrupting the air currents.
Got him.
Allen swung his blade sideways, slicing through a large tree that had been felled to fall in his path. Splitting it cleanly, he dashed through the gap.
Nacule was already out of sight—but Allen's senses never let go.
That was the twenty-first trap. Definitely Kibaha faction.
But from trap twelve onward, they've been laid hastily. He's panicking.
Nacule had misjudged Allen as a typical Suijin Ryū (Water God Style) swordsman—slow, reactive.
So his tactics relied on Allen hesitating or stopping.
But Allen wasn't normal.
His dōki endurance was far beyond expectations.
In the original story, Nacule was only called a Hokushin-ō (North King) when paired with his brother. Alone, he wasn't much.
Now, in panic, he would naturally flee toward familiarity—Ghislane's location.
If the two reunited while Ghislane was in bad shape, Allen could be in serious danger.
So I must kill him before then. Time is short.
Behind him, felled trees crashed loudly.
Allen's grey eyes shimmered with focus.
And far ahead...
So I must kill Jade first—before the variable arrives.
Two mirrored thoughts.
Two men.
Same fear: uncertainty.
Both hesitated no longer.
No more tests.
Nacule flickered through the trees, noticing the faint lag in Allen's strikes and the way he protected his neck.
So... he's forcing himself through that wound.
He's just a reckless idiot with a Water God's sword.
Shame... if he'd studied Hokushin Ryū too, he'd be terrifying.
But no "if."
Time to die!
Lightning ripped the sky!
Allen's boots crashed through the water, pupils flashing white.
At that moment, a dagger flew from the dark!
Allen instinctively deflected it with a slash—
Darkness returned.
His eyes adjusted to the sudden loss of light.
Too late—
A sharp object tore the rain!
Heading for his neck!
Perception still active!
He twisted, the black dagger whistling past and pinning to a tree—
Blood still sprayed from his neck.
His body stiffened—
From the blind spot at his side—
Nacule stabbed straight at his back!
A perfect opening!
But then...
He heard a whisper.
Soft. Calm.
Same words as his own inner voice—
"Opening."
Nacule's heart went cold.
Colder than his neck.
Allen hadn't frozen at all.
He'd turned.
His sword—already swung.
The wound on his neck? Self-inflicted.
To bait.
His Mukōon no Tachi (Silent Blade)—at short range, even a Seikyū (Saint-level) couldn't dodge.
Not at one meter.
Not at one shaku.
That close—
Was fast enough.
Blood answered.
Nacule's vision spun.
The light in his eyes faded.
Allen hoisted his head.
Melted into the night.
"Next."
Blood mingled with the rain.
Lightning tore the sky.
And with it—a blade slashed.
Trees fell into planks—placed atop the swamp.
Allen walked calmly across them, Nacule's head in hand.
Toward Ghislane.
Her eyes lit up.
He extended his hand.
"Nice to meet you."
In the flash of lightning, his smile gleamed.
"I'm Allen."
(End of Chapter)
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