The air in the town was thick with anticipation. People were whispering in the streets, casting nervous glances at Kieran as he walked through the market square. Word had spread fast about the confrontation at the bar, and though Kieran had left the drunken thugs in their place, a new kind of danger was now on his heels.
For days, there had been no sign of the S-Rank man or his army of followers, but that didn't mean the storm wasn't gathering. Kieran's senses, sharpened through his relentless training, knew something was coming. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, though no eyes were on him. No movement in the shadows, no footsteps in the distance—just a weight in the air.
It was late afternoon when the tension finally snapped.
Kieran had just returned to his small inn room, preparing to set out for another training session in the nearby forest when he heard the loud pounding at the door. His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but before he could move, the door crashed open, sending a gust of wind through the room.
A tall figure stood in the doorway, framed by the fading light of the evening. His presence was suffocating, radiating raw power like a furnace. Behind him, the sounds of many boots on the ground echoed in the street, followed by the crunch of gravel.
Kieran's eyes narrowed. The man before him was an S-Rank, the very same one who had sent the fifty-strong group after him. His aura was immense, like an ocean crashing against the shore.
"You think you can threaten me in front of my men?" The S-Rank's voice was like thunder, deep and menacing. His hand rested on the pommel of the sword at his side, his gaze unwavering. "I'll show you why you should never test me again."
Kieran took a step forward, feeling the shadows twist around him as his instincts kicked in. The air grew colder, and his presence became sharper, the familiar feeling of Shadow's Murderer Intent surfacing without hesitation.
"You shouldn't have come here," Kieran said, his voice low, edged with a deadly calm. "And you definitely shouldn't have brought your army."
The S-Rank man laughed, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. "You think you can face me? I'll break you in front of all these people, and they'll remember you as nothing more than a fool who bit off more than he could chew."
Kieran didn't flinch. The darkness gathered around him, a subtle but powerful shift in the air. "The only fool here is you."
The battle was imminent.
The S-Rank's men filled the street behind him, more than fifty soldiers, all primed for a fight. Their leader stood at the forefront, his eyes narrowed with disdain, sizing Kieran up as if he were nothing more than a stepping stone. The tension was palpable, a charged silence hanging in the air before the inevitable clash.
Kieran stood his ground, his senses sharpened to an unnatural degree. His pulse quickened, but it wasn't out of fear. No, it was something far more dangerous—a predator's awareness, the instinct that told him to move before being struck.
"I've been waiting for this," Kieran muttered to himself. His right hand slid to the hilt of his sword, but his left twitched as shadows swirled around him, coiling like living tendrils. He wasn't just ready for this fight; he was welcoming it.
The S-Rank man smirked, clearly not understanding the shift in Kieran's demeanor. "You think you can take me on, boy? You're a child playing at things beyond your reach."
With a sudden movement, he drew his sword—an enormous blade that seemed to hum with power as it cut through the air. The ground beneath his feet cracked slightly from the sheer force of the swing, sending a shockwave of air rushing at Kieran.
The soldiers behind him stepped back, unsure whether to engage or to wait for their leader's signal.
But Kieran didn't wait. His body blurred, his speed a flash of shadow. The S-Rank's sword swept through the space Kieran had just occupied, cutting into the wooden support beams of the building behind him, splintering it with the force of his strike.
Kieran had already closed the distance, his body moving in a seamless motion, a fluid dance of deadly precision. Without a sound, he drew his own blade, slashing upward in a single clean motion. The attack was faster than the eye could follow, a strike that left a faint trail of darkness in the air, like an afterimage of the shadows themselves.
The S-Rank man grunted as Kieran's blade scraped off the surface of his armor, leaving a thin scar where the shadow's edge had grazed. It wasn't enough to pierce his defenses, but it sent a clear message.
"You're fast, I'll give you that," the S-Rank sneered, his grin widening as he steadied himself, clearly enjoying the challenge. "But it's not enough."
With a shout, the S-Rank man swung his sword again, this time with enough power to split the ground. Kieran's eyes glinted with an icy calmness, and without hesitation, he activated the Shadow's Murderer Intent. The air around him seemed to warp as his presence shifted, suffused with an overwhelming aura of darkness.
The S-Rank's sword came down like a falling mountain, but Kieran moved. Faster than the strike could land, Kieran sidestepped, his body a blur as the shadows bent to his will. He appeared behind the S-Rank, already striking before the man could react.
Kieran's blade sliced through the air, but this time, he wasn't aiming for a mere cut—he aimed for the man's center of gravity, the point where his power radiated. The attack was precise, aimed at disrupting the flow of his energy.
The S-Rank staggered, taken aback by the speed of the attack and the weight of Kieran's presence. He turned, furious, and swung his sword in a massive arc, trying to overpower Kieran with sheer strength.
Kieran's eyes flashed. He ducked under the blow, letting the sword pass over him. But instead of retreating, he pressed the advantage, driving forward with a vicious series of strikes that came from all angles, as if the shadows themselves were striking alongside him.
Each strike of his blade was a whisper of death, the darkness swirling around him like a storm. His Shadow's Murderer Intent had taken effect—each blow that landed on the S-Rank sapped his strength, weakening him incrementally. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make the difference.
The S-Rank man's eyes narrowed, realizing that his previous arrogance had blinded him to the fact that Kieran wasn't just some child—he was a threat. "You're playing a dangerous game, boy," he hissed, pulling back to reassess.
But Kieran wasn't about to give him the chance.
"You started this game. Now I'll finish it," Kieran said, his voice cold as ice. With a single step, he disappeared into the shadows, reappearing behind the S-Rank man. His blade lashed out again, but this time, the strike wasn't aimed at his opponent's body. It was aimed at the sword in the man's hand.
The S-Rank gasped as Kieran's blade collided with his own, shattering the sword in two with a clean, decisive strike. The S-Rank man stood there, his hand still gripping the broken hilt of his weapon, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Before he could react, Kieran was already on him, his speed a blur. He struck once, then twice—each blow more forceful than the last. The S-Rank stumbled back, struggling to regain his balance, but Kieran wasn't done yet. The darkness around him swirled as he pressed the attack, every strike feeling like it came from the very depths of the void.
The soldiers behind the S-Rank began to shift, their fear palpable. They had underestimated the boy. They had underestimated the Voidborne.
With a final, powerful slash, Kieran sent the S-Rank man to the ground, his body skidding across the cobblestone street. He was alive, but beaten, broken, and humiliated.
Kieran stood over him, his breath steady and calm, his eyes glowing with the cold fury of someone who had just proven their worth. He glanced at the remaining soldiers, their faces filled with fear.
"I don't want to fight you," Kieran said, his voice quiet but lethal. "But if you stand in my way, you will fall just like him."
The soldiers hesitated, and then, one by one, they dropped their weapons, throwing them into the street in surrender.
Kieran's gaze swept over them, his eyes narrowing. "Leave. Now."
The soldiers, trembling, scrambled to obey, running from the scene, leaving their leader broken in the street.
Kieran stood tall, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. The battle was over, but the storm was far from finished.