Everyone stood frozen, unable to move. The scene before them was impossible. Lady Shion Hoshino had just killed Master Daichi Akarawa right in front of their eyes. The body lay motionless on the ground, the life completely drained from it, while Shion laughed. At first, it was soft, almost playful, then louder, a high, gleeful sound that made the hairs on the back of every guard's neck stand on end. It was a laugh of a child, but cruel and unhinged.
"What just happened?" one of the Akarawa guards whispered, his voice trembling so much it barely carried. He stood beside Roku, the head guard, whose normally didn't like the no violence idea from the start.
Roku's hands clenched around the hilt of his fire sword until his knuckles went white. His chest heaved with each breath. His master's husband was dead. He could not comprehend it. Even during battles over lands, blood had limits. Injuries and unconsciousness were common, but the taking of life was not. The Clan lord's orders had been clear: no one should claim another life in the name of territory. And yet, here lay Master Daichi, a body so still it seemed unreal.
Roku's voice shook, but authority lingered beneath the tremor. "You all are traitors. You will answer for the death of my master."
Flames roared along his sword as he ignited it, the orange glow casting flickering shadows across the terrified faces of the remaining guards. One by one, others followed, forming their own fire swords, their hands tight, their breaths short and ragged. Rage and disbelief warred in their expressions.
"This has to be a mistake," Jiko, the head of the hoshino guards, said, her voice breaking slightly. Her eyes were wide, almost unblinking. She could not reconcile what she was seeing with what she knew. Shion had limits. She had rules. She would never take a life unless it was a matter of survival. And yet… she had killed Master Daichi without a single hesitation. No water magic, no defensive stance, no warning—just a swift, merciless strike. Jiko swallowed hard, feeling the taste of bile rise in her throat. "Lady Shion, please… this has to be a mistake. You didn't do this on purpose."
Shion turned slowly, tilting her head as she approached Jiko, her movements deliberate, almost languid. Her smile was crooked, stretched too wide, and her golden eyes glinted with something dark and unfamiliar, like sunlight on broken glass. "Mistake?" she asked lightly, her voice playful, soft, almost teasing. "This wasn't a mistake. We were playing a game, and I won. I punched him first."
The words sent a chill crawling down Jiko's spine. She shivered involuntarily. "A game doesn't end unless there is a winner," Shion continued, laughing. The sound calm and unnerving at once, settling into every corner like a living thing.
One of Roku's guards, shaking but determined, stepped forward. His fire sword ignited with a sharp hiss, and he charged. Shion didn't even glance at him. She lifted her hand slowly, and the world seemed to pause. Time itself bent, slowing the guard's steps as though invisible chains held him in place. His sword wavered midair, trembling in disbelief.
Shion turned her head toward him, her smile gentle but terrifying, as if she were amused by a bug trapped beneath her fingers. "Wrong move, sweetie," she whispered, low and silky, her voice teasing. "Never strike from the back. That is cowardice." Her fingers brushed his shoulder lightly, almost affectionate, and the contact felt like ice crawling beneath the skin. "And cowards," she added, her tone sharpening like the edge of a knife, "deserve to die."
The guard's eyes went wide. The sword fell from his hands, or perhaps he held it himself, and without a word, he stabbed himself with it. Fire erupted along the blade, burning him in bright, flickering flames. His scream tore through the hall, sudden and raw, and then cut off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
Every other guard staggered back, some tripping over their own feet, faces pale, eyes wide with horror. The Akarawa guards still clutched their swords, trembling, while Jiko's water swords hovered defensively. Every hand that had dared to raise a weapon shook. They all realized at the same time: this was not Shion.
"Who… who are you?" Jiko whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Shion tilted her head and giggled. The sound was light, casual, yet eerie, almost like a melody warped into something sinister. "Me," she said, her eyes glinting with razor-sharp light. "I don't need an introduction. I am everyone's favorite Queen." She smiled, and it was a smile that could chill the blood of the bravest warrior.
Jiko's hands shook violently as she took a tentative step forward. "Where is Lady Shion?"
"Your Lady Shion is currently... asleep," the figure replied smoothly, stepping between the two armies, her posture lazy but controlled, a predator among sheep. "Until she wakes, I will be in charge. You should all put down your swords if you wish to live."
No one moved. The silence was heavy, almost suffocating. Fear pressed down on their chests. Every heartbeat thudded loud in their ears, every breath felt ragged, every second stretched unbearably. They stared at the smiling figure, realizing the magnitude of what they faced.
Shion's eyes roamed over them with cruel amusement. "Okay then, no one," she said, her voice smooth, teasing. "You have been craving violence ever since you arrived on this land. Why hold back? A new game, ding!!. Since you are enemies, slay your foes. If you withdraw your weapons, I will pity you… at a cost."
She stepped back, allowing space, her presence alone radiating control. "Let the battle begin."
Reluctantly, the guards clashed. Weapon against water. Fire met water, sparks flying like tiny stars in the hall. Shion's head tilted, eyes glinting with delight, as one by one, they fell. Screams echoed, some frozen in shock, some caught in raw agony. Bodies littered the ground.
Soon, only two remained: Roku and Jiko. Both were breathing heavily, weapons poised, eyes wary, muscles tense. Neither dared strike the other.
Shion's voice cut through the chaos, teasing, cold. "What is happening here? Slay your enemy. Why do you hesitate?"
She walked forward slowly, steps precise, deliberate, as if she were stalking a small creature on the floor. She stopped before them, a predator savoring the moment. Her smile tugged at her lips, slow and deliberate. "Are you two not enemies? Then what are you to each other?"
Her fingers brushed their arms lightly, and it was as if she could peer into the deepest corners of their memories. Her smile widened. "Lovers, I see. Secret lovers."
Roku and Jiko froze. Their eyes widened. Blood drained from their faces. Their breathing hitched.
Shion stepped back, tilting her head in mock thoughtfulness. "If you don't want me to say it another way, then you know how to win this game."
Without hesitation, they both redrew their weapons, tension coiling in their bodies like a spring ready to snap.
Shion clapped her hands once, softly, the sound deliberate. "Now you have my pity. Both of you, on your knees."
They obeyed immediately, kneeling side by side, eyes lowered, bodies trembling.
Shion's smile was slow, deliberate, the predator's calm after the hunt. "You two are my puppets now. You will do whatever I say from this moment on." Her gaze flicked down to the bloodied dress clinging to her, and she tilted her head with mock irritation. "I'm bored and hungry. Find me a good place to eat. And I need a new dress. This one is far too bloody."
Her words floated in the air, deceptively casual, yet every syllable carried the weight of unchallengeable command. The night pressed in around them. The fallen guards' cries had faded. Only her laughter, sharp and merciless, remained, echoing in the minds of those who had survived.