The capital was a warzone. Smoke twisted into the night sky, carrying the acrid stench of fire and blood.
Streets were chaos incarnate—clashing steel, screaming civilians, shattered stone.
Captain moved with precision, eyes scanning every shadow, muscles coiled, senses sharp.
He was searching for Yoki, but every step reminded him how fragile control was in this city.
All this destruction… I hope everyone is still alive, he thought, a tight knot forming in his chest.
Then, through the smoke, he saw a familiar figure.
The General (former old captain) stood alone in a narrow alley.
His posture calm, almost casual, yet something felt… wrong.
Captain pressed himself behind a wooden crate, letting the shadows cloak him.
Why is he here, in the middle of this chaos?
Before he could decide, another figure emerged—Fusin.
Long black hair falling over his eyes, katana sheathed, yet the presence radiating from him made the air feel heavier.
Every step was deliberate, silent, unnerving.
Captain's heart raced.
Is he going to attack…?
Fusin stopped a few paces from the old general.
His voice was calm, almost courteous, but every word dripped with lethal intent.
"White Leader told me the mission is going to succeed. Thanks to your help, you will be rewarded."
The old general bowed slightly, a faint, serene smile on his face.
"It is my pleasure," he said quietly, unflinching despite the chaos around him.
Captain's grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white.
Rage flared hot in his chest.
So it's true… you betrayed us.
Fusin's lips curled into a faint, chilling smile.
"Don't die, old man."
Captain pressed against the crate, chest heaving.
His mind burned with fury and disbelief.
Traitor… I will make you pay for this.
The city around him continued its symphony of chaos, but in this moment, Captain's world narrowed to one truth: betrayal.
Captain waited until Fusin vanished completely.
Then he stepped forward from the shadows, his boots echoing softly in the narrow alley.
The chaos of the burning capital felt distant—here, it was silent, tense, like the world itself was holding its breath.
The General (former old captain) turned slowly, a calm, satisfied smile on his lips—until his eyes landed on the man approaching.
For the first time, the old general froze.
His sharp gaze widened, his mouth parting slightly.
An overwhelming, almost unnatural aura radiated from Captain—dark, suffocating, yet precise.
It wasn't magic; it wasn't technique.
It was pure, predatory power, and the general could feel it pressing into his mind, his chest, his very bones.
His voice trembled slightly as he tried to regain composure.
"I… what are you—"
Captain's eyes met his.
Cold. Deadly. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips.
"So… you're the traitor."
The old general swallowed hard, a shiver crawling down his spine.
"Oh? So you saw that," he said, attempting to mask the fear with his usual arrogance.
"But what can you do? I am a general now."
Captain took a step forward. The shadows seemed to cling to him, the air around him growing heavier.
"So what? General or not… I'll kill you."
The old general's laugh faltered, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs.
"You haven't changed at all. How can you even think of killing a general of your own kingdom?"
"You're a traitor," Captain said, his voice low, lethal, carrying weight like steel.
"And I will kill you."
The general forced a shaky breath, glancing at the hilt of his sword—but instinctively, his eyes darted back to Captain.
The aura… it burned into him. His fingers trembled on the weapon.
"If you kill me, you'll be punished by the kingdom. And even if you try to accuse me—you have no proof," he stammered, trying to buy time.
Captain raised his sword slowly, the blade catching the flickering firelight.
The air seemed to hum with tension, vibrating with the weight of what was about to happen.
"In this chaos… who will know who killed you?" he said, voice sharper than a blade.
The tip of his sword hovered at the old general's throat.
Captain's gaze locked on him, unflinching, inhuman.
The aura surged like a living thing, and the general felt the ground tilt beneath him, his own strength draining away.
"You're a traitor," Captain whispered, each word slicing into the old general's mind.
"And I'm tired of all of you. You die today."
The general's knees trembled.
Fear—not just for his life, but for the thing standing before him—gripped him fully.
"You… you… no—no, you can't kill me," he gasped.
"I—I'm a general—"
But Captain didn't hesitate.
In a flash—a movement too fast for the eye—the sword descended.
The general didn't even manage to raise his blade.
The air itself seemed to part violently as Captain's strike cleaved through with terrifying precision.
His head hit the ground before his body could comprehend what had happened.
Silence followed, broken only by the faint crackle of fire.
Captain stepped back, sheathing his blade calmly, as if he had merely finished a training exercise.
"This," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of finality, "is what the end of traitors looks like."
The shadows swallowed the fallen general, leaving only the echo of his fear—and the lingering presence of something monstrous that had walked the alley.
Captain wiped the blood from his blade and turned away from the corpse.
"I should keep moving," he muttered, voice low, steady—yet something heavy clung to his tone.
He stepped out of the alley and rejoined the burning streets of the capital.
Screams echoed, flames climbed walls, steel clashed somewhere in the distance.
Captain moved fast—every second mattered.
Then he stopped.
Two bodies lay on the ground ahead.
Two captains he recognized.
Men who had fought beside him in countless battles.
Their armor was shattered, their weapons broken beside them.
The way they fell—back-to-back—showed they had died trying to protect each other.
Captain didn't speak at first.
He only looked at them.
A single breath escaped him—not shaky, not loud, but heavy… like a weight pressing down on his chest.
He clenched his fists.
"Damn it…" he whispered, almost inaudible.
He stepped closer, kneeling briefly—not to mourn, not to pray, but simply to acknowledge them.
A warrior's respect.
"You two…" he said softly, "you didn't fall for nothing."
His jaw tightened, eyes burning—not with tears, but with a quiet fury.
"I won't let your sacrifice go in vain," he promised, voice firm, carrying through the smoke-filled air like an oath carved into steel.
He stood, turned, and started moving again—faster this time.
His comrades were dead.
The capital was burning.
And every second he wasted meant someone else would fall.
Captain disappeared into the smoke, his resolve sharper than ever.
On the other side of the capital.
Hinata and Roxy stood ready, facing the White Leader and Yoki.
Every muscle tensed, every breath sharp.
Roxy moved to strike the White Leader, Hinata to Yoki—
Then, without warning, a blade sliced across Hinata's back.
A sharp cry escaped him.
Roxy whipped around.
"Hinata—!"
Their eyes met what they never expected.
Oxel. Injured, blood streaking his armor, yet standing behind them with a cold, unreadable face.
His blade gleamed from the strike he had just delivered to Hinata.
Hinata staggered, gripping his wound, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
"Oxel… why…?"
Roxy's heart pounded, disbelief.
He's… he's one of us… how could he—?
Oxel's did not said anything only stood their with blood driping from his sword.
The White Leader's approving voice floated from the shadows.
"Well done, Oxel."
Hinata's chest burned, but it was not just pain—the sting of betrayal cut deeper than any blade.
He pressed his hand to his back, blood soaking his fingers.
"You… traitor," he whispered through gritted teeth, voice low and deadly.
"This… will not be forgotten."
Roxy's blades hovered, her willpower unshaken, yet her eyes reflected the shock of someone she had trusted turning against them.
As all of this chaos unfolded, the Captain finally reached the courtyard.
The moment he arrived, his eyes widened—
Hinata was bleeding, staggering, barely standing.
Roxy was holding him up, shock and fear mixing on her face.
As all of this chaos unfolded, the Captain finally reached.
The moment he arrived, his eyes widened—
Hinata was bleeding, staggering.
The Captain's heart dropped.
He rushed toward him—
—but a shadow landed in front of him, blocking his path.
Bustin.
He stood there with a serious, confused expression, staring at the Captain as if seeing a ghost.
"You… you're still alive?"
Before the Captain could answer, a soft chuckle echoed through the courtyard.
The White Leader stepped forward slightly, his tone dripping with amusement.
"Oh, look who has arrived…"
He gestured lazily toward Oxel, still standing behind Hinata and Roxy with blood on his blade.
"Come closer, Captain. Look well. Your beloved and most loyal lieutenant… has betrayed you."