The Split Decision
The air in the dusty infirmary was charged with tension. King Hayate and his Life Anchor, Neshuda, had made their desperate, terrifying choice: they would split up. It was the only way to break Narakka's perfectly coordinated coup, but it meant severing the physical protection of the Curse of Reflection.
Hayate was relying on the spiritual bond—the Curse of Reflection itself—to act as a lifeline. If either of them was in danger, the other would know, no matter the distance.
Neshuda, fully healed by Hayate's painful sacrifice, stood ready. He wore a mask of cold, fierce determination, but his dark eyes were burning with reflected anxiety and fear for the King he was leaving alone.
"I don't like this, Hayate," Neshuda whispered, checking the balance of his sword one last time. "You are going into the most heavily guarded section of the Citadel—the Dungeons—alone. You have no backup, no physical shield. Narakka's guards will be looking for you, and your healing aura is still depleted."
"And you are going into the War Room—the command center—where Narakka himself or his most loyal commanders will be waiting," Hayate countered, his voice firm. He placed his hand on Neshuda's armored shoulder, pushing his remaining charisma and resolve into the Guardian. "We are both going into traps, Neshuda. We just have to trust the bond."
Hayate looked at the traitor, Henudra, who was chained to the bed, watching their tense farewell with cruel fascination.
"If you move, Henudra, I won't heal you next time," Hayate warned the former advisor. "We need you alive, but we will not hesitate to put a guard on you when we return."
Henudra simply shrugged. "Go on, King. Prove your grand plan works. I give it three minutes before one of you dies."
Neshuda growled, but Hayate pulled him away. The farewell was quick, brutal, and necessary. They did not embrace; they simply locked eyes, sharing the unspoken vow.
"I will sabotage the signal tower on the West Tower and send you a coded message when the coastal defenses are down," Neshuda promised. "Use that signal to rally Captain Torvin's loyalists."
"I will free Torvin and meet you at the Tower," Hayate replied. "May the Curse of Reflection protect us both."
And with that, they separated. Neshuda moved silently out of the infirmary and into the shadows, heading up toward the command tower. Hayate plunged down into the deep, dark levels of the Citadel, heading toward the Dungeons.
The Guardian's Ascent: Shadow and Steel
Neshuda's mission was pure stealth. He was moving through the belly of the beast, where Narakka's forces were thickest. He moved through the ventilation shafts and maintenance tunnels of the West Tower, relying on his training to guide him past patrols.
His body ached with a terrifying sense of emptiness. The Curse of Reflection was now only carrying faint, intermittent signals from Hayate—a distant, low thrum of resolve and concentration. Neshuda was physically alone for the first time in weeks, and the solitude was deafening.
I have to trust him. I have to trust the bond. Neshuda repeated the vow in his head.
He scaled the inner service ladder of the West Tower, his breath barely making a sound. The higher he climbed, the closer he got to the War Room and the critical signal tower on the roof.
He reached the top-most level, near the roof access. The War Room was directly beneath him. He could hear the muffled, angry voices of Narakka's commanders.
He used a tiny, specialized lock pick to silently breach the roof access door. He emerged onto the stone rooftop, where the massive, complex signal tower—the Kingdom's communication lifeline—stood against the dark, smoky sky.
Two of Narakka's most elite guards were standing watch. They were heavily armored and clearly expecting an attack from the Throne Room, not the ceiling.
Neshuda melted into the shadows behind a stack of crates. This was not the time for brute force; it was the time for master of stealth precision.
He moved silently, closing the distance between him and the first guard. His sword flashed out, not for a killing strike, but a disabling one—a blow to the man's temple with the hilt. The guard collapsed instantly, silently.
The second guard turned, alerted by a faint sound. He raised his heavy crossbow.
Neshuda was already in motion. He launched himself forward, moving faster than the guard could track, closing the distance in a single, blurring step. He drove the hilt of his sword straight into the guard's solar plexus. The man folded silently, dropping the crossbow.
The rooftop was clear. Neshuda moved to the base of the signal tower. It was a tangle of ancient, delicate magical wiring and modern military technology.
I have to make it look like an accident.
Neshuda pulled out a small, specialized knife. He didn't cut the main power; he carefully severed three specific, high-tension wires, knowing they controlled the maritime communication frequency used by the loyalists. This would create a momentary blackout in communication, giving The Sea Witch's loyal fleet a small window to maneuver.
As he finished the sabotage, Neshuda felt a sudden, sharp spike of cold fear and physical impact through the curse!
Hayate was in danger!
The King's Descent: Charisma and Chains
Hayate's path to the Dungeons was a slow, agonizing descent into chaos. Unlike Neshuda, Hayate was moving through open, populated corridors, relying on his wits and his charisma to navigate.
He felt the growing intensity of the coup—the shouting, the hurried footsteps, the unmistakable smell of burning wood.
His only protection was the Royal Guard tunic he still wore and the thin hope that no one would expect the King himself to be descending into the prison.
He finally reached the dungeon entrance—a heavy, iron-bound door guarded by three of Narakka's mercenaries.
I have to distract them. Hayate knew he couldn't fight them.
He stepped out of the shadows, forcing his face into a look of regal authority, channeling his depleted charisma into a powerful, inspiring wave.
"Stop, soldiers!" Hayate commanded, his voice ringing with the inherited authority of the Angelic bloodline. "You are needed above! There are ghouls attacking the Throne Room! Narakka needs all hands to defend the inner court!"
The mercenaries hesitated, looking confused. They were ordered to guard the Dungeons, but the mention of ghouls and Narakka's immediate need for defense was powerful.
"We have orders, King!" one of the mercenaries challenged, raising his spear.
"Your orders are overridden by the safety of the King and your master!" Hayate declared, stepping closer, his pure-hearted will shining through the grime and exhaustion. "Go now! The dungeon can wait! The coup is failing!"
The lie, amplified by Hayate's charisma, felt true. Two of the mercenaries broke rank and ran toward the upper levels. The third remained, looking suspicious.
"I won't leave my post," the last mercenary snarled.
Hayate knew this was his chance. He lunged forward, not with a strike, but with a desperate, surprising move—he tackled the man, pulling his spear away and slamming him against the wall.
Crack!!
Hayate felt a terrible, sharp physical impact—the reflected pain of the mercenary's head slamming into the stone. It was brief, blinding agony. He had succeeded, but the cost was high.
He dragged the unconscious guard aside and forced the dungeon door open. The interior was dark, cold, and quiet, filled with the faint smell of human misery and ancient stone.
Captain Torvin's Cell
Hayate plunged into the prison, ignoring the empty cells. He moved toward the deepest level where the most dangerous prisoners—or the most valuable—were kept.
He found Captain Torvin in a deep, sealed cell, shackled heavily. The Captain, a man known for his booming voice and absolute loyalty, looked up at the figure in the tattered Royal Guard tunic, his face etched with defeat.
"You... You're alive, Your Majesty?" Captain Torvin whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Just barely, Captain," Hayate admitted, rushing to the cell door. "Narakka has taken the Citadel. Henudra opened the gates. We have to rally the loyalists. Where is the key?"
"Henudra took the key. He said it was symbolic," Torvin spat, shaking the chains. "But the Royal Guard always had a contingency. In the wall, behind the loose stone by the water drain."
Hayate found the stone and pulled it out, revealing a small, intricate key. His hand was shaking with fatigue and the throbbing reflected pain from his last action.
He unlocked the cell, and Captain Torvin staggered out.
"My Guard is scattered, King. They think you are dead or gone. They are fighting the ghouls and the rebels in the city, with no command," Torvin explained grimly.
"We have a command now," Hayate declared, feeling the familiar, low thrum of Neshuda's resolve return through the curse. "Neshuda is securing the West Tower—he will sabotage the signal and send us a code. When that signal drops, you rally every loyal guard you can find and lead them to the tower. We cut off Narakka's head."
Captain Torvin looked at the exhausted young King, whose face was pale but whose eyes shone with unshakeable resolve.
"I am your loyal sword, King Hayate," Torvin vowed, kneeling briefly, before grabbing a discarded sword from a nearby rack. "Where do we go?"
"We move through the service tunnels to the West Tower, Captain," Hayate commanded, leading the way. "We are going to join my Life Anchor and take back my kingdom."
The Final Climb
Just as they began to move, the Curse of Reflection hit Hayate again. It wasn't the sudden, sharp pain of a physical blow this time, but a crippling, spiritual blast of raw exhaustion and desperate urgency—the unmistakable signal of Neshuda's successful, but draining, sabotage.
Neshuda had done it. He had sabotaged the signal tower.
"That's the code, Captain!" Hayate gasped, clinging to the wall as the reflected exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. "The signal is down! Rally the loyalists now! Tell them the King is alive and in the West Tower!"
Torvin didn't question it. He saw the genuine agony on the King's face and the immense power of the invisible bond.
"The loyalists are in the East Barracks! I can reach them in five minutes!" Torvin declared. "Go, Your Majesty! I will bring your army to your shield!"
Hayate nodded, giving the Captain a final, painful shove toward the exit. He knew he had to get to Neshuda. His Life Anchor was spent.
Hayate turned, plunging into the dark service tunnels that led toward the base of the West Tower. The Citadel was burning around them, but Hayate's focus was singular: the exhausted soul of his Guardian waiting for him in the tower.