The night over the False Curtain Hill was deep and heavy, with cold wind silently wandering through the darkness. Kaine stood quietly at the edge of the hill, gazing up at the boundless night sky. The stars were sparse and indifferent, as if silently watching this world on the verge of upheaval.
His eyes were deep and expressionless, seeming to swallow all light and hope. The night breeze swept his black cloak, stirring a shadow-like chill, yet it could not disturb the stillness within his heart.
Kaine's thoughts drifted far away, countless memories flashing through his mind — yet it felt as if there was nothing at all. He did not know what he was fighting for, nor where the future would lead. Only an indescribable emptiness filled him, as vast and endless as the night.
"Lord Kaine."
"Commander Zhodan is waiting for you at the camp on the eastern side of the hill. The mission is about to begin."
The voice was like a blade cutting through the silence of the night. Kaine slowly turned, his eyes cold as frost, as if able to freeze time itself. His gaze swept over the dark knight with neither emotion nor wavering.
"Tell Zhodan I'm coming." His voice was low and indifferent, like a chilling wind from the abyss, carrying an unreachable authority.
Without another word, Kaine turned and strode steadily and firmly, like a reaper of the night, silently heading toward the camp. The wind still howled behind him, but around him, everything seemed frozen by cold, deathly silent and cruel.
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False Curtain Hill · Eve of the Assassination Mission
A cold wind swept across False Curtain Hill, the gray-blue sky weighed down by heavy leaden clouds. Kaine, clad in dark armor, stood expressionless at the edge of the hill, his sword blade reflecting mottled light. His eyes were like ice, radiating an unyielding coldness.
"Lord Kaine." A serious and steady voice sounded behind him.
Kaine turned to see Zhodan approaching slowly. The man had brown hair and a face marked by scars—each line telling a bloody story of past battles. He was the captain of the Dark Knights and Kaine's closest superior.
"You're here." Zhodan gave a rare smile, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "You're still the unsmiling killer—reliable as ever."
Kaine said nothing, simply asked coldly, "What's the mission?"
Zhodan's expression grew serious, his tone low: "This target is no ordinary one—the Holy Light Protector Apostle, Xie Xi Yilan."
Kaine frowned slightly. "Xie Xi Yilan? The imperial knight commander? He's the core of the Empire's army."
"That's precisely why we must eliminate him swiftly and silently." Zhodan glanced toward the distance. "His death will trigger chaos within the Empire—an opportunity we can't miss. The highest echelons of the Order are watching closely. Failure is not an option."
Kaine lowered his eyes, dark energy swirling around him like countless ghosts whispering within his armor.
"Remember, it's all for the Order. The operation must be meticulous; no trace can be left."
"Understood." Kaine's voice was as cold as ice.
Zhodan nodded and turned away, leaving behind a heavy silence.
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False Curtain Hill · Assassination Begins
Kaine moved swiftly through the woods, closing in on the enemy camp. Ahead stood several Imperial Paladins, their armor gleaming coldly in the dusk.
"Hey! Up ahead…" one rider shouted—only to have his voice cut short by Kaine's merciless blade.
The sword's flash was like a shadow, and in an instant several riders fell, their heads rolling on the damp earth.
The remaining knights cried out in terror, "Heretic! Someone's killing us!"
Kaine stood silently in the shadows, his gaze cold and dismissive of the proud paladins before him. His eyes were like a freezing abyss, swallowing their arrogance whole.
"Heretic! You defile the holy ground of the Radiant God! Today, you will pay with your life!" Their leader, Zikata, roared with religious fervor and contempt. "We will send you before the eternal Radiance to repent your sins!"
The knights around him echoed in unison, gripping their swords and raising their shields, as if Kaine were a sinner doomed to divine punishment.
Kaine's gaze hardened, showing no fear. His sword gleamed like frost under the night, each unsheathed strike a declaration of death.
Amid flashing blades, blood splattered. The once arrogant paladins fell one by one. The air was filled only with frightened gasps and broken prayers.
Seeing his comrades fall, Zikata's fanaticism crumbled. His face turned pale as paper; his voice trembled: "P-please… spare my life… I swear loyalty to the Radiant God… I will say anything…"
Kaine slowly approached, the tip of his sword coldly pressing against Zikata's throat. His voice was ice-cold and cutting: "Weren't you shouting 'Heretic!' at me? Saying I must die? Now you beg for mercy?"
Zikata scrambled to explain, "N-no, that's not… I…I only… believe in the Radiance, for justice…"
Kaine's blade swept through cleanly, ending his plea.
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False Curtain Hill · Outside the Shrine of Zosher the Evil God
The night wind moaned low, the moonlight swallowed by black clouds, and only flickering firelight danced near the cave entrance. Darkness surged like a tide, so still it seemed even the wind held its breath.
Kaine stood among hay and dirt, stained with drying blood. His twin swords dripped fresh crimson, the tips smeared with flesh. At his feet lay heaps of twisted and mangled paladin corpses. His face was indifferent, devoid of pity.
Ahead, dozens of Tiyark Paladins formed ranks with shield walls raised, spears like a forest. They sneered:
"A mere brat? Coming alone?"
"Who do you think you are? A lackey of darkness, daring to desecrate our sacred ground!"
At a command, the paladins surged like a tide—only to collapse in moments.
Kaine's twin swords slid out silently, turning into streaks of dark light. His steps made no sound as he moved like a specter among the enemy. He did not evade attacks nor retreat an inch. Sword flashes cut through the air; blood and flesh flew.
— One sword shattered a shield, two severed heads, three slashed down three men, the fourth hand-reversed to snap a throat!
A paladin raised his spear, but his pupils caught a descending cold light—
"Ugh!"
Blood exploded skyward, his head flying off at an angle.
The formation completely broke, the paladins panicked and retreated. They had never seen such ruthless swordsmanship—this was no battle, but a slaughter—a harvest from hell.
"Monsters!!!" they screamed.
Among the mountain of corpses and blood, Kaine's expression remained blank, his eyes like still water. He did not even flinch at killing; it was a practiced indifference, like sweeping dust off the floor.
But just as he cut down the last man, urgent footsteps sounded behind—
A young paladin, lightly wounded and pale as paper, was desperately fleeing toward the cave entrance.
Kaine's eyes twitched; he lifted his foot to chase but paused, weary from the continuous fight.
"Missed one." he murmured softly, displeasure flickering in his eyes. Then he sheathed his swords and let his hand brush the hay, mud, and corpses beside him as he began setting traps and preparing flames for the next phase.
"It's alright."
His tone was calm as water, as if the massacre was merely clearing obstacles. The one enemy left behind would be burned alive inside the cave. The boy started readying traps.
"East wind, dirt, hay, corpses… burning fuel for dark magic. They'll suffer enough." Kaine smirked coldly, tossing reinforced dark magic fire bombs into the cave. Thick black flames rapidly spread. Then he sealed the entrance with heavy earth, the dark flames tightly wrapping and hardening, burning everything alive.
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Inside the cave, Xie Xi Yilan's voice echoed coldly like a command through the dark stone walls: "Full search! Must find all heretic devices left behind; no one can be spared!"
The paladins reported in panic: "Sir… outside… huff—huff—that gray-haired, blue-eyed boy has taken our garrison soldiers!"
Xie Xi Yilan frowned, shocked: "Over two hundred dead, all but you wiped out?"
"Yes…" The voice trembled near breaking.
Xie Xi Yilan sighed: "You join the search. I'll personally deal with that boy."
Suddenly, flames blazed inside, thick smoke rolling.
"Put out the fire!" screams rose as the knights rushed to rescue.
"That guy must have set the fire!"
The dark magic flames were as black as night, unquenchable by water. The blazing fire swept the scene, swallowing the soldiers' cries and struggles.
Another loud roar came, followed by the choking smell of burning. The dark magic flames had burst through the cave entrance, flooding in wildly, the fire dancing wildly on the stone walls like the gaping maw of hell.
"Fire! Put it out quickly!!"
"It's demon flame! Normal water can't extinguish it!"
The paladins scattered, pouring buckets of water onto the flames, only to raise thick black smoke without dampening the blaze's roar.
Soldiers screamed as tongues of fire consumed them, steel helmets burning through to flesh in moments. One after another fell, the flames spreading like a plague, devouring every inch.
"May the Lord of Light protect us…!!"
Amid chaos and despair, a thunderous roar shook all—
"Enough!!"
Deputy Captain Wenksen stood in the firelight, his armor blackened by soot, a deep scar trembling on his face. His eyes were blades, shining with the light of faith and fury.
"The holy fire never dies, the holy light never fades! You are the Empire's paladins, the blade of the Radiant Lord! If you must die, die here protecting the general's sacred ground!"
The soldiers stopped fleeing, staring at him in shock. He suddenly drew his dagger and without hesitation sliced his left arm artery. Blood gushed forth, splashing onto the fierce black flames—somehow suppressing part of the fire!
He gritted his teeth, fearless, standing between blood and fire, shouting:
"Only the blood of faith can extinguish the dark demon flame! Offer your hearts, your loyal souls, for the general, for the empire, for the true radiance!"
"For the Radiant Lord!!!" The soldiers instantly raised their voices, passion surging.
Some plunged swords into their chests, spilling warm blood; others cut their arms without hesitation; some lifted fallen comrades, using their still-warm blood to douse the flames.
They no longer fled but rushed into the inferno one after another. Blood and dark fire battled, accompanied by wails and shouts, staining the entire cave red.
Some soldiers burned while roaring: "Even if only my bones remain, I will pave the general's way!"
Others smiled as they threw themselves into the fire: "Father God above… I swear by my heart, burn my life to win victory for the general!"
Xie Xi Yilan stood within the flames, his eyes never so complex. He gritted his teeth, gripping his sword, stepping into the tunnel torn apart by fire.
"Wenksen… you have won these warriors' faith."
The deputy captain, bloodied, knelt. With his last strength he shouted at Xie Xi Yilan:
"Carry their wishes… kill that heretic!!!"
Blood quenched the flames, bodies littered the road, banners fell into pools of blood, yet the fire of faith never extinguished.
In this battle, none fled or betrayed; all built a paladin wall of flesh and blood. When the dark fire died, their souls had long risen with the holy light…