The Race to Reunite
The separation was agonizing. Hayate was running through the cold, dark service tunnels beneath the Aurekawa Citadel, his every step dictated by the agonizing feedback loop of the Curse of Reflection. He was not running toward safety; he was running toward the most severe pain he had ever felt.
Neshuda had successfully sabotaged the signal tower on the West Tower, plunging the coastal defenses into confusion. But the cost was immense. The crippling blast of raw exhaustion and desperate urgency that Hayate felt through the curse meant Neshuda was utterly spent, physically and spiritually. His Life Anchor was a beacon of pure, desperate energy—a sign he had completed his mission but was now defenseless.
"Just hold on, Neshuda," Hayate muttered, using his depleted charisma to push away the reflected pain. "I'm coming. We survive this together."
He emerged from the tunnel into the base of the West Tower. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and the shouts of Narakka's guards. He had no sword, no armor, and no energy left for a fight. His only weapon was his status as King, and the overwhelming desire to reach his Guardian.
He slipped past a small, confused patrol, using their distraction over the signal blackout to his advantage. He began his final ascent up the tower's main staircase.
Guardian Cornered
Neshuda was on the roof of the West Tower, leaning heavily against the crippled signal tower, his body shaking from sheer exhaustion. He had used every last bit of his master of stealth training to disable the guards, sabotage the communications, and stay alive. He was a master assassin who had run out of tricks.
He had sent the signal. He had held the line. Now, he was waiting for the reflected pain of Hayate's arrival to give him the final push.
The door to the roof slammed open. It wasn't Hayate.
It was Narakka himself.
The usurper was a massive, heavily armored figure, a veteran general, his face grim with fury. He was flanked by two captains, all three carrying heavy, military-issue crossbows.
"The Stray," Narakka boomed, his voice echoing across the rooftop. "I knew Henudra's plan was flawed. The little King may have killed the ghouls, but I knew he would send his dog to bite my hand. You've delayed my broadcast, Stray. That is your final act of treason."
Neshuda pushed himself away from the tower, forcing his body into a defensive posture, despite the exhaustion dragging at his limbs. He drew his sword—his final, desperate act.
"The King is coming for his throne, Narakka," Neshuda managed to snarl, his breath ragged.
"The King is running for his life in the tunnels, where he belongs," Narakka sneered, raising his hand. "Captains, take him down. Do not damage the signal tower further. He is not worth the risk."
The two captains raised their crossbows. Neshuda knew he couldn't dodge two simultaneous shots. He closed his eyes, accepting the end, his only thought a desperate spiritual call to Hayate.
The King's Arrival
Just as the captains released their bolts, a ringing, powerful voice cut through the air from the rooftop entrance.
"Stop! Do not touch my Life Anchor!"
Hayate burst onto the roof. He was exhausted, pale, and unarmed, but his charisma was a blinding, physical force. It hit Narakka's men like a spiritual shockwave, making them hesitate and miss their shots.
Neshuda opened his eyes, seeing his King standing between him and the crossbow bolts. The Curse of Reflection immediately slammed Hayate with the searing pain of the near-miss—the intense fear and spiritual agony of Neshuda thinking he was about to die. Hayate staggered, clutching his head, his strength nearly gone.
"The King!" Narakka roared, surprised. "Seize him! The Stray is a distraction! The Angelic bloodline is the prize!"
The captains dropped their crossbows and charged Hayate.
Neshuda, seeing the men rushing his King, felt an immediate, violent surge of adrenaline. The Curse of Reflection transferred the threat into a pure, desperate rage and resolve—the same spiritual weapon that had allowed him to defeat the ghoul summoner.
"No!" Neshuda screamed. The exhaustion was gone, replaced by a terrifying, focused fury. He moved with blinding speed, a desperate shield closing the gap.
He intercepted the first captain, his sword moving too fast for the armored man to block, disabling him with a quick, painful blow to the shoulder. He spun, catching the second captain's punch and twisting his arm, sending the man crashing into the signal tower.
The Final Confrontation
Narakka was not fooled. He knew that the two figures were a matched set. He ignored Neshuda, who was momentarily occupied with the captains, and focused entirely on the King.
"You are finished, boy!" Narakka shouted, throwing off his cloak. "I have the military command! I have the resources! The people believe I am their savior! You are a cursed distraction!"
Narakka drew a massive, ceremonial war axe and lunged at Hayate.
Hayate couldn't run. He couldn't fight. He stood his ground, letting his charisma burn with blinding intensity. He faced the towering general head-on.
"You do not understand, Narakka!" Hayate declared, his voice ringing with power, even though his body was shaking from exhaustion. "The people do not need a savior! They need a leader! And you are a tyrant who used the fear of my own curse to take what is not yours!"
Neshuda finished off the last captain and turned just in time to see the towering Narakka swing the war axe in a massive, overhead arc straight toward Hayate's unprotected head.
This was the moment of absolute, total failure.
Neshuda moved, but he was too far. The axe was too fast.
I failed him! Neshuda's internal cry of absolute abandonment and despair slammed into Hayate through the curse. It was not physical pain; it was the spiritual agony of Neshuda's soul fracturing.
Hayate knew if the axe struck him, Neshuda would die of a broken heart, even if he survived the physical blow. The Life Anchor would collapse.
Hayate closed his eyes and pushed every last drop of his pure-hearted will into his Guardian. He focused his mind not on the incoming axe, but on the soul of the man he deeply likes and loves.
I choose you, Neshuda! Live!
The war axe struck—not Hayate, but the stone floor right where he had been standing.
The Curse's True Power
Narakka stared in disbelief. Hayate was gone. He was standing slightly to the right, unharmed.
The secret was simple: the Curse of Reflection wasn't just a shared pain; it was a shared instinct. When Neshuda felt the spiritual agony of abandonment, Hayate felt the intense resolve to save his Anchor. In the fraction of a second the axe descended, the curse had physically pulled Hayate's body out of the path of the blow.
Narakka saw his moment of surprise—the brief window where the Angelic senses were processing the threat.
He swung the axe again, this time a horizontal swipe aimed at Neshuda.
Neshuda reacted instantly, fueled by the terrifying blast of love and resolve reflected from Hayate. He moved with supernatural speed, dodging the axe and attacking Narakka's unarmored knee joint with his sword.
Thwack!
Narakka bellowed, clutching his knee. He was injured, but still dangerous. He swung the axe blindly.
Hayate saw the swing coming. He used his final reserve of energy to channel his healing aura not to heal Neshuda, but to blind Narakka. A sudden, intense burst of pure Angelic light flared from Hayate's chest.
Narakka screamed, dropping his axe and clutching his eyes.
Neshuda saw his opportunity. He lunged past the blinded general, his sword moving with absolute precision. He didn't aim for a killing blow. He sliced the leather strap holding Narakka's massive armor in place and then disabled the man's sword arm.
Narakka collapsed onto the stone roof, defeated, unarmed, and disgraced.
The King Reclaims the Throne
The rooftop was silent. The flames of the Citadel still burned, but the battle was over. Neshuda stood over the defeated general, his sword point hovering over Narakka's throat.
Hayate staggered over to Neshuda, his legs finally giving out. He collapsed against his Guardian, clinging to his arm.
"It's over, Neshuda," Hayate whispered, feeling the immense, sudden relief of his Life Anchor's victory. "We won. The kingdom is safe."
Just as he spoke, the rooftop door burst open again. It was Captain Torvin, leading a host of loyal Royal Guards, their armor singed and their faces grim.
"Your Majesty!" Captain Torvin roared, stopping short as he saw the scene: the defeated general, the crippled signal tower, and the King, alive, clinging to his Guardian.
Hayate pushed himself upright, using Neshuda as his pillar. He faced his loyal Captain and the assembled Guard, channeling every last bit of his charisma and pure-hearted power.
"Captain Torvin," Hayate commanded, his voice ringing with undeniable authority. "Secure this traitor, Narakka. Broadcast the truth to the kingdom: the coup is over. The King is alive. Narakka is a usurper."
The loyalists cheered, their morale instantly restored by the sight of their living, fighting King.
Neshuda helped Hayate walk to the edge of the rooftop, where they could look out over the burning, chaotic kingdom.
"The throne is waiting, King Hayate," Neshuda murmured, his voice thick with absolute loyalty and exhaustion.
Hayate looked at the Aurekawa Citadel, the place of his father's death and his own spiritual ordeal. He looked at Neshuda, his loyal, exhausted Life Anchor.
"We have to go back to the infirmary first," Hayate said, leaning heavily into Neshuda's strength. "We have a traitor to interrogate, a kingdom to heal, and a painful, difficult truth we need to finally speak."