The temple was dead silent after those three words.
Finally… I've found you.
The voice carried weight. It wasn't loud, yet every syllable pressed into Laine's chest like steel. Dust rained gently from the ceiling, and the sunlight spilling through the crack dimmed, swallowed by the heavy presence that now filled the air.
Laine's grip on his sword tightened. Airi, clutching the hem of his robe, looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. He didn't speak, didn't comfort her. His focus was fixed on the figure emerging from the shadows.
Boots scraped against broken stone, slow and deliberate. Out of the darkness stepped a tall man clad in black and silver armor. His chest plate bore the golden crest of the Empire—a dragon entwined with a blade. A black cape draped from his shoulders, torn at the edges, but it did nothing to soften the aura that radiated from him.
The man's eyes glowed faintly, like embers smoldering in ash. His hand rested lazily on the hilt of his sword, but there was no mistaking the restrained power in his stance.
Laine's mask pulsed, crimson light flashing in warning. His body tensed.
The armored man stopped a few steps away, tilting his head as if studying a strange animal. Then he smirked.
"So it's true. The reports weren't lies." His voice was calm, smooth, but every word dripped with disdain. "A gutter rat, starving on the streets one day… and the next, slaughtering a merchant in broad daylight."
Airi's head jerked toward Laine, confusion flashing in her eyes.
"…Slaughtering?" she whispered.
Laine's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
The soldier chuckled darkly. "Don't bother denying it. I saw you drain him with my own eyes. The market was in chaos for hours. People whisper about a demon walking among them. That demon…" His smirk widened. "…is you."
Laine took a step forward, shadows flickering faintly from his mask. "And you came here alone?" His voice was low, almost mocking, but his grip on the hilt betrayed the tremor in his hand.
The man's smirk didn't falter. "Alone? You think a Mortal Rank rat like you deserves an army? Hah. Don't flatter yourself."
Laine froze. Mortal Rank?
The soldier raised a single finger, tracing the air lazily as if writing invisible words. "Do you even know where you stand, boy? Let me teach you the truth of this world."
His voice grew cold, precise, like a teacher lecturing a fool.
Mortal Rank (1–3): Weaklings. Street trash. The powerless who barely cling to survival.
Awakened Rank (4–6): Soldiers. Knights. Those who have tasted the flow of power and bent it to their will.
Ascendant Rank (7–9): Commanders. Elite captains. Men and women whose names carve fear into cities.
Dominion Rank (10–12): Lords of land and blood. Their will shapes kingdoms.
Imperial Rank (13–15): Guardians of the throne. Chosen hands of the Emperor himself.
Aether Sovereigns (16+): Untouchable. Divine. Beyond mortal comprehension.
The man's smirk turned cruel. "And you? You're barely clawing your way to the second rung of Mortality. A cursed child clutching a toy sword."
Laine's lips curled, but his mask pulsed angrily, as if responding to the insult. He shifted his stance, sword inching free of its sheath.
The soldier didn't move. He simply let his aura slip.
It was like a mountain collapsing on Laine's chest. His knees buckled, stone cracked under his boots, and his breath hitched as if the very air had been stolen.
"Awakened Rank… six." The man's voice was almost bored. "And yet, look at you. Trembling. Choking. You can't even stand in my presence."
Airi gasped, clinging tighter to Laine's robe. "Laine…"
The soldier's gaze shifted briefly to her. A slow smile spread across his lips. "Ah… so this is what you've been hiding. How amusing. A monster playing caretaker to a child."
Something snapped in Laine. Shadows burst violently from his mask, chains rattling into existence. He roared, swinging his blade, the Berserker Sword shrieking as it tore through the air.
But the soldier… raised only a hand.
Clang!
The massive black blade slammed into an invisible barrier, sparks scattering. Laine's eyes widened. His chains lashed out, wrapping around the soldier's arm—only for them to shatter like glass under a pulse of aura.
"Pathetic," the man muttered, almost disappointed. He drew his own sword with a smooth, effortless motion. The steel gleamed in the dim light, humming with power.
Before Laine could react, the blade blurred.
Crash!
The ground split open where Laine had been standing a moment before. He staggered back, mask flaring wildly, shadows shielding both him and Airi from the crushing strike.
The soldier didn't pursue. He simply rested the blade against his shoulder. "See the difference now, rat? No matter how much you writhe, you cannot bridge the gap between a Mortal and an Awakened."
Laine's chest heaved. Sweat dripped down his forehead beneath the mask. He wanted to deny it, to roar, to fight—but every fiber of his body screamed the truth.
He couldn't win. Not here. Not now.
His eyes flicked sideways. Airi's small form pressed into him, trembling, her face pale with terror.
The soldier noticed. His smirk deepened. "I'll make this simple. Come quietly, and maybe I'll let the child live. Resist… and I'll slaughter her first, before your eyes."
Airi gasped, her tiny hands gripping Laine's robe with desperate strength. "Laine…"
Laine's jaw clenched. His mind screamed. If I fight, she dies. If I surrender, she dies later.
The mask pulsed violently. Whispers coiled around his thoughts. Kill him. Drain him. Break him.
But even the mask knew the truth—Laine couldn't. Not against this power. Not today.
He sheathed his sword in one sharp motion. Shadows surged around his legs, wrapping both him and Airi.
The soldier's eyes narrowed. "What—"
Laine didn't wait. He grabbed Airi into his arms and exploded backward. The floor cracked, chains slamming against the ground to propel him forward. They shot out of the temple like a shadow-born storm.
The soldier's roar echoed behind them. "You think you can run from me, rat?!"
But Laine didn't look back. He clutched Airi close, sprinting through the ruined streets, then into the outer fields. His breath burned, his muscles screamed, but he didn't stop.
Airi buried her face into his chest, clutching his robe. She could feel his heartbeat—wild, desperate, but unyielding.
The soldier's aura chased them like a storm, heavy and oppressive.
Finally, trees swallowed them. The city faded behind, and the forest loomed ahead, dark and endless.
Laine collapsed against a tree, chest heaving, mask glowing faintly as the shadows wrapped protectively around them both.
Airi looked up at him, her face pale but her eyes searching. "…Laine… what… what was that man?"
Laine's voice was ragged, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. "…A reminder. Of how far I still have to climb."
The forest was silent, save for their ragged breaths. The world had just shown Laine its teeth.
He wasn't ready. Not yet. But he would be.
Because now, he wasn't fighting for himself.
He was fighting for her.
---
And far behind, in the ruins of the temple, the armored soldier stood in silence, his sword buried in the stone floor. His lips twisted into a cold smile.
"You can run for now, rat. But the Empire always finds its prey. And when you're dragged before the Empress…" His smirk widened. "…you'll beg for the death you escaped today."
The shadows of the ruined temple swallowed his words, but their weight carried far—toward the forest, toward Laine, toward the broken path that now awaited him.