The village square had turned to silence.
The air was heavy, the kind that came before a storm. Even the wind seemed to be still.
Whispers spread like ripples through the crowd.
"Why are they fighting?"
"Is he serious?"
"Wasn't he helping us?"
Fear began to bleed into confusion and confusion into disbelief. No one knew what to believe anymore.
Oswyn stepped forward, his face composed but his eyes sharp. "Shirou," he said, voice steady, "this is foolish. Attacking an official of Velgrath will bring punishment far beyond your imagination. You understand that, don't you?"
Guden's voice trembled beside him. "He's right! Shirou, think about what you're doing. You haven't even shown us proof."
Shirou tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes unblinking. "Proof?" he repeated, his tone calm, detached. Then his voice lowered, "I already told you. I don't give a damn about what anyone thinks."
Something in his tone made the villagers flinch.
The flame that flickered along the edge of his blade wasn't just light, it felt alive.
Oswyn sighed, shaking his head. "I don't intend to fight y—"
He never finished.
Lightning cracked across the ground as Shirou moved. In a blur, he closed the distance between them. Ashbringer blazing with dark crimson fire. The sword cut through the air like a streak of light, a single flash between heartbeats.
Oswyn barely had time to react. He snatched the spear from his back, coating it with mana just in time to block.
Steel met flame.
The impact roared through the square. The air itself seemed to split as sparks scattered. The blow sent Oswyn staggering back, the spear nearly wrenched from his hands. Then came the second strike, a swift horizontal slash that cut deep across his abdomen and sent him crashing through the side of a wooden house.
The sound of splintering wood echoed through the village.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then the shouting began.
"Run!"
"Protect the people!" Hayla's voice broke through the chaos, sharp and commanding.
Guards rushed forward, forming a defensive line as the villagers scattered toward the inner square. Even Guden stood frozen, staring at the scene before him as two figures locked in a storm of light and dust.
Shirou lowered his blade slightly, his eyes flicking toward Hayla for a fraction of a second, then back to the shattered wall where Oswyn had vanished.
From within the wreckage, Oswyn emerged. Blood seeped through his torn uniform, staining his chest and legs. He gripped his spear tightly, his breath ragged. He glanced down, a crack now ran through the middle of the weapon.
"That first strike…" he muttered under his breath. "I didn't have time to harden it. If I split the shaft now, it'll shatter."His grip tightened. "I'll have to fight with one."
Shirou's eyes glowed faintly beneath the sunlight. "I told you to go all out," he said sharply. "Didn't I?"
Oswyn gritted his teeth, pouring mana into the spear. Rock fragments coated the weapon, turning it into a jagged pillar of stone. "You'll suffer the consequences of this insolence—"
Before the sentence could finish, Shirou vanished again.
"Inferno Surge."
The air ignited. A roaring vortex of flame spiraled from Shirou's sword, tearing through the ground as it surged toward Oswyn. The older man dove aside, circling left, his boots scraping the dirt.
"This kid…" Oswyn thought, his mind racing as he darted between bursts of fire. "Every swing carries intent to kill. Not just to win, but to end. He's not holding back."
He blocked another crimson arc, his weapon trembling under the impact. "If I take him head-on, I'll lose. I need to create distance."
But Shirou didn't give him time.
Shirou moved like lightning. Flame met rock as their weapons clashed again and again, each impact a thunderclap. Heat rippled through the air. The stone beneath their feet cracked.
Oswyn thrust forward. Shirou tilted his body, letting the spear scrape past him before slashing diagonally across the side.
"Ashbringer-Flame Edge."
The blade flared crimson.
The spear caught the attack but only for a moment. A sharp crack echoed as the weapon split at the center. Oswyn's eyes widened. "No—!"
Shirou's next strike sent him flying back once more. Dust exploded around him as his body hit the ground.
Coughing, Oswyn forced himself up, gripping the broken halves of his spear. A deep wound stretched across his chest, bleeding freely. His vision blurred. "He hit exactly where the crack was…" he realized. "Was he aiming there all this time?"
His gaze flicked toward Shirou, who stood motionless, sword lowered.
"He could've finished me… but didn't." Oswyn's breathing steadied. "He's testing me."
Then, slowly, a small smile curved his lips.
Oswyn dropped the broken weapon. The ground trembled faintly as mana surged through his veins. His skin darkened at the edges, veins glowing faintly beneath the flesh. His fingers twisted and elongated, turning into thick, sharp claws. Mist began to spill out from his surroundings like breath from the earth itself.
"I'll go all out," he said, his voice deeper, wilder. "As you wish."
The crowd gasped.
Guden stumbled back, his voice barely a whisper. "This… this can't be…"
Even Hayla's composure cracked. Her lips trembled. "Why… why would you—?"
Oswyn didn't answer. The mist spread quickly, blanketing the square, curling around the houses like living smoke.
Shirou stood still, eyes narrowing as the world faded into haze. "Mana detection."
His vision shifted. The world turned into a web of light, every mana core glowing faintly through the mist. He could see the villagers retreating, the guards forming barriers, and ahead of him, a bright core pulsing, Oswyn.
The mist shimmered faintly.
'I was right,' Shirou thought. 'The sunlight makes the mist thinner than at night. I can still see about a meter ahead.'
A faint smile touched his lips. 'Three suns aren't so bad after all.'
He stepped forward, his voice cold as steel. "You can't win, not with that body. You can't even run. I'll catch you before you reach the forest. So just give up."
Oswyn didn't reply. Instead, he turned sharply, sprinting toward the treeline. "With the mist and shade, he'll lose me once I reach cover," he thought. "Then I'll—"
But before he could finish the thought, Shirou was there.
The young man appeared in front of him, sword blazing. The next swing connected, sending Oswyn crashing back through the mist. Dust rose where he landed.
Panting, Oswyn looked up, his mind reeling.
"How did he figure out it was me?"Oswyn thought." He's a sensory type, sure, but they can only detect positions, not identities. Did he come from a clan I don't know about?"
Oswyn called out, his voice echoing through the mist."How did you figure it out?"
Shirou didn't respond. He walked forward quietly, the faint outline of Oswyn's mana core glowing before him like a beacon.
Then suddenly it vanished.
Shirou stopped, eyes widening.
The core was gone.
But he didn't panic. His hand tightened on Ashbringer. He swung.
"Ashbringer - Phoenix Burst!"
A blazing wave erupted from the blade, sweeping forward and devouring the mist in front of him. Heat rippled outward, searing through the air.
Oswyn was already rushing at Shirou from behind, a twisted smile curling across his face. "You're probably wondering why you can't sense me, aren't you?" he thought darkly. "Now die"
He lunged.
The claws came down.
But then, he saw it.
The glow of Shirou's blade burned crimson, deep and unnatural, like molten metal.
Shirou turned sharply, his golden eyes cutting through the haze.
"Impossible," Oswyn thought but too late.
The sword struck, piercing through his chest.
The mist shattered in an instant. The light of the three suns poured down once more.
Oswyn staggered, coughing blood, eyes wide. "Im…possible," he gasped. "How…"
His gaze drifted past Shirou toward the crowd. And then he saw her.
Hayla.
She was on her knees, trembling.
A dagger was buried deep in her left chest, blood spreading across her clothes.
Oswyn's body shook. "You… did that…" His words came out broken. "But… how did you know…"
Shirou said nothing.
He simply withdrew his blade, crimson light fading from the edge. His eyes still fixed coldly on Oswyn.
The mist was gone, but the silence that followed was heavier than before. The village had gone still again waiting for answers.