The cold earth was the only thing I could feel against my cheek. My body was no longer a vessel of life; it was a shattered heap of porcelain. Every breath I took was accompanied by the sickening rattle of broken ribs, a sound like dry wood snapping under a heavy boot. This battle... it hadn't just been against the Generals. It had been a violent wrestling match with Death itself, and Death was winning. The blood pooling beneath my chin had already lost its warmth.
In the blurred haze of my fading vision, I saw two silhouettes sprinting toward me through the smoke. Hina and Yumi.
"Night-ji! Night-ji! Please, open your eyes! I... I will heal you!" Yumi's voice was a fractured mess, trembling with a primal sob. I felt her hands hover over my shattered chest, her fingers shaking so violently she could barely focus her mana.
In the deepest corner of my mind, a cynical thought flickered—Heal me? With what? When we needed a miracle, you were paralyzed by fear. Now that I am standing at the threshold of the abyss, you offer me these flickering particles? I looked into their eyes—Hina and Yumi. I didn't see fear anymore. I saw a soul-crushing regret. They finally understood that the price of their survival was my annihilation.
My eyelids became leaden weights. The sound of their weeping turned into a hollow, distant echo. I remembered... the Generals were dead, but their army? Those thousands of demons were still out there, circling like starving wolves. "No... not yet... I have to save them..." I tried to command my limbs, but the darkness was absolute, dragging my spirit into the depths.
Everything went silent.
The Eternal Tundra of the Soul
Suddenly, the searing heat of my wounds vanished. It was replaced by a cold so profound it felt like it was freezing my very thoughts. I opened my eyes, but I wasn't in the village anymore. There was no fire, no ash.
I was standing in an infinite wasteland of pure, white snow. A horizon that stretched into eternity under a sky of bruised indigo. I looked forward, and my soul recoiled in terror.
The dream. It was the dream again, but this time, I wasn't just a spectator.
The child—Kiran's younger self—stood there. The scene played out exactly as I had seen it before, a haunting loop of history. The boy charged toward a sea of millions of demons, his small frame dwarfed by the nightmare. With a single wave of his hand, he didn't massacre them; he transformed them. Millions of horrors became a blizzard of golden petals, swirling into the frozen sky. The sight was so majestic and terrifying that I felt as if the Angel of Death had come to claim me personally.
Then, the voice of that Golden Entity—the maiden from my dreams—resonated through the tundra. But this time, I heard the words that had been muffled before.
"Whether you choose to be a Hero or a Monster, the choice is yours..." she whispered to the boy. "But I grant you a gift... a nature that defines your existence. From this day forth, the color of your soul shall be Azure."
I stood paralyzed as I heard her final blessing: "I believe in you. You will become a Knight worthy of this burden."
The Encounter with the Blue Sovereign
Suddenly, the Entity turned her head. Her gaze locked onto mine. In that split second, I felt as if the weight of the entire planet had collapsed onto my shoulders. It was the Goddess of Death standing before me. My lungs seized, and my heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it would burst through my skin. Pure, unadulterated terror forced me to my knees. I closed my eyes tight, pressing my forehead into the freezing snow, unable to look at her divinity.
But death didn't come.
Instead, a chilling wind swept past me, and a heavy, masculine voice resonated from right behind my back. It was deep, resonant, and carried the weight of two centuries. It was the Azure Knight—Kiran—in his true, adult form.
"Do you think you are special?" he asked. There was no malice in his voice, only a weary wisdom. "In this world, everyone is special until they are broken. I didn't know back then that when I was chosen, my entire village... my mother, my father... everyone would be slaughtered just to forge me into a weapon."
I looked up as the sky split open. A blinding, divine light descended. Two colossal figures—Rank 1 and Rank 2—materialized in the air. Kiran gestured toward them. "Those two... their words were strange. My body reacted to them instinctively, as if it recognized its masters. I didn't realize until now that you were there, watching us from across time."
I was shivering, not from the cold, but from the realization. Kiran walked toward me, extending his hand.
"They will never come before you as enemies, Reyansh. They were the architects of my past when I was chosen 200 years ago. I chose to become a Knight because I needed a purpose. And today... my purpose stands before me."
I looked into his eyes. There was no hatred for the man who had stolen his body. Only hope.
"Will you stand with me?" Kiran asked. "I cannot promise you a peaceful end, but I can promise this: those two (Rank 1 & 2) have no intention of harming you. They have placed all their expectations upon your shoulders. They are not Gods, Reyansh... they were once humans like us. Their power has simply transcended the limits of mortality."
Kiran's hand remained extended—a vow of friendship. "Be my friend. Let me be the shield in your battles."
The terror that had gripped me began to evaporate, replaced by a cold, burning ambition. If these beings wanted me dead, I would have been dust a long time ago. I was chosen for a reason, a purpose that spanned centuries. A new resolve surged through me. I reached out and gripped Kiran's hand with everything I had left.
"Fine," I said, my detective's mind returning to its icy clarity. "I accept your partnership. But remember one thing... The first thing I will do is find that witch—that Goddess—and I will drag the answers out of her, no matter the cost."
Kiran offered a faint, grim smile. Suddenly, the white tundra exploded into a blinding flash of azure light.