66 Chapter 66
The figure dropped from the roof.
No thud. No splash. Just… presence.
A blur between stillness and motion.
Aruno's fingers twitched, Durandal forming again in his hand—dark steel whispering into existence like a reflex.
Still, he didn't raise it. Not yet.
The figure straightened slowly. The rain slid off his wide straw kasa, head tilting just enough to show the lower part of a mask—smooth ivory, a single black line where the mouth would be.
No expression. No intention. Just silence.
And from beneath the cloak draped over his side—
A katana.
Not drawn. Not threatening. Just… waiting. Resting quietly in its sheath.
Void's voice came low, cautious for once.
"…That's not some lost wanderer."
The masked figure stepped forward once, water rippling beneath his foot.
Aruno's grip on Durandal tightened.
"What do you want."
No question mark. No rise in tone. Just the words. Solid. Cold.
No response.
Then—movement.
The masked man vanished.
"Above—!"
Aruno spun.
Steel met steel.
The katana was still sheathed, but it struck like a thunderclap. The back of the scabbard collided with Aruno's blade, and the impact ripped through the earth like a shockwave.
The shack behind him shattered instantly—wood splinters flung like shrapnel, roof exploding into the storm. Aruno was hurled back through mud and stone, skidding like a ragdoll, carving a trail of ruin in the soaked ground.
He caught himself, just barely—knees bent, one hand dragging Durandal like an anchor, steam hissing off his skin.
He rose again.
Rain falling. Breath ragged. Hair clinging to his face.
Across the clearing, the masked figure stood exactly where he'd landed.
Unmoving. Untouched. Katana still resting in its sheath.
Void's voice spoke again.
"…Who the hell is that?"
Aruno didn't answer.
But deep in his chest, something unfamiliar stirred.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Recognition.
Whoever this was—
He wasn't testing Aruno.
He was measuring him.
This wasn't a warning.
It was a sentence.
Judgment delivered by an unknown blade.
Aruno's boots sank into the mud as he steadied himself, shoulders rising and falling.
Durandal hummed in his grip, rain sliding down the edge like liquid shadow.
The figure didn't move. Katana still sheathed. Head slightly bowed. Waiting.
Void's voice slid through the storm, low and sharp-
"A blade that never leaves its sheath cuts deeper than one that does. He doesn't need to draw it to kill you."
Aruno exhaled, eyes narrowing. His words came quiet, almost drowned by the storm
"If he's judgment, then I'll be the verdict. If he's the blade, then I'll be the bloodied shadow it can't sever."
The figure shifted. Just one breath of motion. Enough to make the air collapse between them.
The world seemed to tilt— and then he was gone again.
Steel clashed and clanked.
Aruno's knees buckled as the katana's scabbard hammered against Durandal once more, shockwaves splitting the planet into trenches. Water and blood churned together as if the storm itself approached.
Void growled in his mind.
"Listen well, Aruno. Weak men pray for mercy. Strong men carve it. But you—"
"You were born to erase the space between them."
Aruno's teeth grit, forcing the katana back with sheer will. His voice broke through the clash..
"I won't be erased. Not by him. Not by gods. Not by the weight of fate. I am the ghost of what should never have been, and I'll haunt this world until it bends."
His eyes flared red! We are officially back in action.. Aruno!
The figure leapt back coat blowing in the wind, landing softly in the wreckage. His head tilted. Silent. Almost curious.
Aruno dragged Durandal through the mud, steam rising as the blade thrummed like a storm given form. His voice dropped into something colder.
"If you came here to measure me… then remember this. That blade may cut a thousand times. But the ghost returns forever."