Few days later.
The rhythmic sound of steel echoed through the training hall as Mosin's blade cut the air again and again.
Sweat rolled down his neck, each breath steady, focused.
Behind him, Jester leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed and a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"You've been at it nonstop these past few days," he said.
"Strength alone isn't enough, Mosin. You have to know when to use it— and when not to."
Mosin lowered his sword, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
"I know that," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Jester walked closer, the quiet tap of his boots echoing through the hall.
"You've changed lately," he said softly.
"Something's on your mind."
Mosin turned to him, a small grin forming.
"I just don't want to be a burden on you."
Jester chuckled, resting a hand on his head in his usual easygoing way.
"Hey… don't overdo it," he said warmly.
"You've never been a burden to me."
He turned toward the exit, adjusting his gloves.
"I'm heading out on a mission. Take care of yourself while I'm gone, alright?"
Mosin nodded, his expression calm but unreadable as Jester walked away down the corridor.
When the door clicked shut, Mosin stayed still for a beat, then walked over to the potted flowers by the frame.
He slipped his hand into the dry soil and felt paper — folded tight and warm from the day's sun.
He drew it out, unfolded it with fingers that didn't quite stop shaking, and read.
The words were short. Sharp. Enough.
He folded the page back, slid it into his pocket, and swallowed.
The hall felt suddenly colder, every shadow longer.
Mosin pressed his palm against the pot, as if that small green life could steady him.
"So this is where my revenge starts," he whispered, the promise hard as iron in his throat.
"I won't forgive you, Jester — even if I have to betray the whole kingdom."
He pulled his sword free once more, practiced a slow, measured cut, and let the blade rest.
Outside, the world went on — but inside Mosin something had already changed.
The rain poured harder over Quil City's broken square.
Mosin was on his knees, blood dripping down his chin, one hand pressed to his wound.
The cobblestones beneath him were slick with rain and his own blood.
His vision blurred, but through the haze, he saw Platius standing a few paces ahead — calm, unbothered — while Caprin's blade gleamed coldly in the gray light.
For a long heartbeat, neither man moved — the sound of rain filling the silence.
Then, in a flash, Platius vanished, his cloak snapping in the air as he lunged.
Steel met steel. The clash echoed through the square like thunder.
Mosin, still on the ground, forced his body to move, gripping his dagger with trembling hands.
His mind was a storm of pain and confusion — but one thought cut through it all:
It is all due to my foolishness…
Jester, kneeling a few feet away and bleeding from his own wounds, caught sight of him.
His eyes widened.
"Mosin! Stay awake—don't you dare die on me!"
Mosin tried to answer, but his voice wouldn't come out.
The world tilted, the air grew heavy, and all he could hear as darkness closed in was Jester's voice—calling his name again and again.
Mosin's vision blurred as the pain in his side deepened.
He glanced back one last time, his lips trembling.
"I'm… sorry," he whispered, before collapsing to the ground.
The captain and Platius both on eachother.
Their blades clashed — the sound sharp and echoing through the ruined street of Quil City.
Sparks flew as Captain's blade pressed down hard, forcing Platius back a step.
Platius gritted his teeth, barely deflecting a follow-up strike.
Captain's movements were clean, precise — every swing a measured kill.
Platius ducked under a horizontal slash, rolling aside, his boots skidding on dust.
Why do I have to face a monster like this? he thought, his pulse pounding.
I knew he was strong… but this strong? That damned Yoki called this an easy win — are you crazy?
Captain advanced, his expression unreadable, his stance steady.
His eyes, cold as steel, followed Platius's every twitch.
Platius tried to smirk, though sweat trickled down his temple.
"Why so tense, Captain?" he said, voice sharp, desperate to break the silence.
"Why not… settle this properly?"
Captain didn't answer.
He stepped in — fast — their swords locking again with a thunderous clang.
The force of it sent vibrations up Platius's arm.
He staggered, feeling the weight of Captain's raw strength behind every movement.
Captain's blade slid down his, breaking the lock, then came up again — a powerful upward slash that Platius barely dodged, feeling the edge graze his armor.
Platius backed away, gasping.
The Captain's presence loomed like a shadow, calm yet suffocating.
Each step Captain took forward felt like a verdict being delivered — silent, final, and unstoppable.
Platius smirked through gritted teeth.
"Why not take care of your comrades first, Captain? They're about to die."
He nodded toward Mosin and Jester, lying motionless a short distance away.
Captain's eyes flicked in their direction for the briefest second — and that was all Platius needed.
He dropped his sword instantly and lunged low, hands snatching around Captain's ankle.
"I got you now!" he growled, twisting hard.
Captain's leg buckled—but instead of falling, he spun with the motion, slamming his other foot straight into Platius's jaw.
The impact sent Platius stumbling back, coughing blood.
Captain landed lightly, stance steady again.
Platius wiped his mouth and laughed darkly.
"Good… let's see what you can do without that fancy sword of yours."
He rushed in, launching a storm of punches — hooks, elbows, a sharp knee toward the ribs.
Captain blocked them all with calm precision. His forearm met each strike with bone-cracking force, countering with short, brutal hits.
Platius ducked under one blow and tried an axe kick, his heel slicing down toward Captain's head.
Captain sidestepped cleanly, caught Platius's leg mid-air, and slammed his knee into it.
A sharp crack echoed.
Platius winced but didn't scream; he twisted his body and drove his elbow into Captain's shoulder.
Captain barely flinched.
He caught Platius's arm, twisted it behind his back, and threw him across the dirt.
Platius rolled, came back to his feet, and spat to the side.
Damn it… this guy's also good at this too.
He charged again, feinting left before swinging a low kick.
Captain caught it with his shin, then drove a punch straight into Platius's chest that sent him sprawling against a broken pillar.
Still, Platius refused to fall.
He lunged again, close enough to grab Captain's collar, landing two rapid strikes to the ribs — but Captain countered with a palm strike to the jaw, then another to the throat.
Platius gasped, staggering backward.
"You…" he coughed, his vision blurring.
"You're not… human."
Captain didn't answer.
He stepped forward, grabbed Platius by the collar, and slammed him to the ground.
The earth shuddered under the impact.
For a moment, the only sound was Platius's ragged breathing.
Captain's shadow loomed over him — silent, cold, absolute.
Platius staggered back, blood dripping from his lip, eyes blazing with fury.
Both men were breathing heavily, their boots grinding the dust beneath them.
The Captain straightened, his stance calm, gaze steady.
"I think this is the end for you," he said quietly, voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"You're strong — I mean it. You were able to defeat Titus. But…"
Before Platius could react, the Captain stepped forward, his fist tightening.
Power surged through his arm — a clean, decisive strike.
The blow landed square on Platius's chest, the impact echoing like thunder.
Platius's body flew back, crashing into the dirt with brutal force.
The ground trembled beneath him as he gasped for air, struggling to rise — but his strength had finally run dry.
The Captain exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.
The Captain reached down, his hand wrapping around the hilt of his fallen sword.
The steel shimmered faintly in the dim light as he raised it, pointing the blade toward Platius.
"This is the end for you," he said — calm, cold, certain.
Platius's vision blurred; his head swayed as he tried to focus on the man standing above him.
Is this… really the end? he thought, his body refusing to move.
The air around him felt heavy, every sound distant — the roar of battle fading into silence.
He blinked slowly, staring up at the Captain.
A faint, broken smile touched Platius's lips.
The Captain lifted his sword high, its edge catching the faint light that broke through the shattered roof.
Dust drifted in the air between them, the silence so sharp it felt like the world itself was holding its breath.
The Captain's voice was low, steady.
"You fought well… but this is where it ends."
He brought the sword down —