A cold sweat ran down his cheek as he breathed erratically. In front of him lay a body—not just any body, but the corpse of a man who had tried to kill him. Towering above it stood a figure he believed to be his father: his robe scorched, blood staining his clothes, wounds crisscrossing his body.
He glanced around. Other bodies lay scattered, silent, as inanimate as the grass beneath him.
Then his eyes returned to the man before him. He said nothing, not a word. He seemed empty, a mere vessel, soulless as he stared off into the distance. No sound. No movement. Only the faintest, almost imperceptible breaths betrayed that he was alive.The smell of blood and sweat stank in the cold air.
Here's a polished version of your draft while keeping all your dialogue and intent intact:
"Hey, Pops, snap out of it!" Yuriko shouted, her legs fixed in place. "Come on!"
There was no response at first, but then suddenly he gasped for air, falling to his knees as he coughed violently.
They rushed to him immediately, but he brushed their concern aside.
"I'm okay," he said between coughs.
Silence followed. No one spoke—who could, after what they had seen? After what they had heard?
The quiet stretched on until a single question cut through it.
"So, are you just going to sit there like nothing happened?" Izumi asked, his eyes cast downward.
He then lifted his gaze, intent in his eyes. "Just what the hell is going on?"
Tsushiro remained silent, which only irritated him further.
Grabbing him by the torn edges of his robe, Izumi yelled, "You don't get to be quiet!"
The other pulled back.
"Hey! Back off, Izumi!" Yuriko said, tugging at Tsushiro.
Izumi brushed her aside. "I know you're thinking about it too, so don't try to stop me."
"So, fess up, Pops," he continued, fury burning in his eyes. "We have a right to know."
"I know this seems like a lot," Tsushiro replied calmly, "but you have to trust me. Everything I've done so far is for your sakes."
"That doesn't answer the question!" Izumi shot back, still infuriated, while Takae and Yuriko couldn't bear to look him in the eye. "Is what he said true or not?!"
Tsushiro remained silent, hesitating, his gaze flicking away. Finally, he spoke: "Yes… yes, it is."
They were taken aback as silence settled over them. Takae buried her head in her arms, mumbling something under her breath. Yuriko's eyes widened in shock as she looked back at him, but she immediately turned away, biting the inside of her cheek and squeezing her eyes shut, forcing her emotions down.
Izumi, on the other hand, stood transfixed, as though caught in a trance. Then reality snapped back into place, his face tightening with fury.
He lunged toward Tsushiro, yelling, "Why you—!"
A sudden flash of light behind them cut him off. Tsushiro moved instantly, pushing past the three and rushing toward the source, his sword clenched tight.
As the light faded, he saw Asahi standing before him—but something was wrong. The wounds were still there. His eyes were closed, lifeless.
Tsushiro didn't hesitate. He charged forward and sliced at Asahi's throat, forcing the body back.
"It's useless," an unfamiliar voice bellowed. "Your attacks will have no effect. This man is already dead."
As blood seeped from the wound in Asahi's chest, a large black symbol slowly emerged across his torso.
Tsushiro gritted his teeth and leveled his sword at him. "Just who the hell are you?"
A low chuckle echoed—but Asahi's lips never moved.
Tsushiro immediately stepped in front of the children, his gaze locked onto the figure, tracking every movement.
"I'd say it's a pleasure speaking to the Flaming Frost," the voice continued, "but I'm not exactly one of your fans."
"Still, I will acknowledge this—you singlehandedly wiped out part of my Phantom Wolf Troupe and successfully ruined my plan to reclaim that bastard niece of mine."
"So it really is you, then," Tsushiro said, his expression hard. "Avios Nether. The King of Wolves."
"To think the monarch of the Wolf Djinn Clan would address me directly," Tsushiro continued, a trace of sarcasm in his voice. "This must be quite the inconvenience for you."
"It was to be expected," the voice replied. "I knew my stubborn sister would never hand over her child for execution. She would've killed herself—and the executioners with her—before that."
"So when she showed no reaction at the execution and remained silent, I grew suspicious," he continued. "I examined the corpse, and sure enough—it was a fake. Shocking, honestly. Nearly perfect. But a source energy signature can't be forged. Not even in death."
Tsushiro stayed focused, his eyebrow twitching slightly.
Behind him, the three children watched in stunned confusion.
"It was quite the discovery," the voice went on. "I tried everything I could, but I couldn't keep it hidden forever. News spread that Maya's bastard had survived. The Nether family took a severe blow—and so did my reputation as King of Wolves."
"I had to restore my lost dignity," the voice continued. "So I killed that wretched sister of mine and sent in a unit of my own bastards to put an end to this disgrace. I would've called it poetic justice—if things had gone as planned."
A pause followed, heavy with contempt.
"And you even took out that bastard Asahi. Revolting as he was, he possessed a talent that couldn't be easily ignored. Yet you cut him down just as he reached his peak."
"That's quite the rude thing to say about your own son," Tsushiro responded.
"Spare me," the voice sneered. "All those bastards are good for is sullying the name of nobility—disposable rags, nothing more. Especially half-human filth like that girl… and this pathetic little group."
Takae stumbled back, overwhelmed. A small tear welled in her eye as the words crushed down on her.
"But there's nothing left for me to worry about," the voice continued coldly. "I'm cutting my losses—right here."
Tsushiro stepped back, gesturing for the three to retreat as well. They obeyed without a word.
Asahi's body was hurled toward the other corpses. One by one, the bloodied bodies—each marked with the same black symbol on their chests—were drawn together. They twisted and fused, throbbing as they merged, swelling larger and larger as they rose into the sky. A sickening sphere of flesh took shape, pulsating with an ominous energy that rippled through the air.
The flesh swelled into a massive, pulsating sphere that radiated oppressive heat.
Tsushiro faced it, silent for a moment.
"I know this isn't the answer you were looking for," he said, turning his back to them, "but in my room—there's a letter waiting for you."
He stepped forward, veins bulging along his clenched fist.
"What comes next is up to you."
Takae's eyes widened as she reached out toward him.
"No—wait!"
There was no response.
Tsushiro broke into a run, charging straight toward the sphere.
Behind him, the only thing he heard was Takae's voice, screaming—
"Come back!"
Here's a polished version that keeps your tone, imagery, and stakes, while fixing grammar and sharpening the prose:
He didn't respond, lost in thought.
It seems I have no choice. I'll have to use my nightmare essence—but redirecting and concentrating all that energy into a single point will definitely tear open a rift in the leylines.
He leapt into the air.
His blade darkened, turning pitch-black as patterns of crimson flame crawled along its edge. It was soon engulfed in a black, star-flecked fire—the same shade as a starless night.
The strange flames pulsed and raged like a living creature as Tsushiro closed in on the sphere.
This will definitely speed up my plans, he thought, but I have no other choice.
"So let's tear up reality!"
In that instant, he swung his sword at the pulsating mass of flesh. Upon impact, a massive flash of light erupted, followed by a thunderous blast.
Below, the children shielded their eyes, bracing themselves—yet they felt nothing.
When they looked up, they saw the explosion collapsing inward, the sphere of light shrinking in on itself. Beneath it, the ground began to crumble, massive slabs of rock tearing free and hurtling into the air.
One enormous chunk plummeted straight toward them.
Then something happened—something they didn't even realize was possible.
Their eyes all glowed a pale white at the same time as they instinctively braced for impact.
They squeezed their eyes shut.
The crash came.
Slowly, cautiously, they opened their eyes—only to find themselves completely unharmed.
The massive slab of stone that should have crushed them had fallen away, diverted at the last moment, leaving them untouched.
But there was no time for relief.
Their attention was immediately dragged back to the contained blast.
The sphere of energy continued to shrink, compressing in on itself, growing denser and brighter with every passing second. Tsushiro hovered above it, completely still—almost as if he were no longer able to move.
When the sphere became small enough, it stretched unnaturally, thinning into a single glowing line etched across the sky.
Then the line split open.
A dark void yawned wide within it.
An overwhelming pressure crashed down on the three, forcing them to their knees. Their bodies trembled under the weight of it, lungs struggling to draw breath. All they could do was look up—look up at Tsushiro.
"With this move," Tsushiro thought, "our final play can begin."
His body began to fall.
Not thrown—pulled—toward the tear in the sky.
The three fought desperately against the crushing pressure. Muscles screamed in protest. Only Izumi managed to lift his arm, fingers trembling as he reached toward him.
"Wait—!" he tried to shout, his voice strangled by the force pressing down on him.
As he fell, Tsushiro turned his head back one last time.
"There's nothing to worry about," he thought calmly. "They'll be alright."
With that final reassurance, he closed his eyes—
—and disappeared into the rift.
"WAIT!" Izumi screamed, his voice finally breaking free—but it was too late.
Tsushiro vanished from sight.
The tear folded in on itself, sealing shut as if it had never existed at all.