"I am Raiku Samarudi," the old man proclaimed, his voice thick with authority and a twisted pride. I stood there, cold and unmoved, watching him with nothing but disdain. His introduction meant nothing to me—I already knew exactly who he was: a villain, through and through.
Next, a man stepped forward, looking every bit the part of a pompous scholar freshly minted from some prestigious academy. "I am Jacob Rasu," he announced, his tone dripping with self-importance. Prideful, arrogant—the kind of traits Satre once carried with rightful dignity. But now, after losing her, his arrogance only stoked my contempt. The thought of killing him flickered through my mind, but I restrained the urge. For now.
Then came the drunken woman, her voice slurred and deep. "I am Kasia Cravil," she introduced herself with a lazy grin. She had the kind of charm that might have captivated another, but to me, she was nothing more than a nuisance. I decided to keep my distance—not out of fear, but because she wasn't worth the trouble.
One by one, they introduced themselves—names and faces blurring into a sea of insignificance. None mattered. None but two.
The fifth disciple, Amela Latsa, caught my eye immediately. Her long, pure white hair cascaded down her back, framing piercing red eyes that seemed to bore through my very soul. There was something hauntingly familiar about her—a spark of the same intensity and raw beauty I once saw in Satre. That alone was enough to make me wary.
Then there was the ninth disciple, Lais Reed—a fiery spirit, impulsive and fierce. She had potential, a soul that might have been shaped differently if given the chance. But I had no interest in salvation. My focus was simple: survive. Revenge.
I lingered in the shadows, their eyes flicking over me—judging, assessing. I remained silent, unseen, unnoticed. Perfect. I was no ally, no friend. I was a weapon, a tool shaped by Raiku's cruel will. Though they were stronger now, I knew—I knew—I could take them down, one by one.
Not long after, the second disciple grew impatient. Without warning, he lunged at me, palm-shaped energy blasts raining down relentlessly. His speed was impressive—twice the speed of light—but after my recent resurgence, it felt sluggish, almost comedic. I danced through his assault with grace, each dodge effortless.
His relentless barrage lasted over ten minutes. I found amusement in his futile efforts. His blasts were easily deflected or shattered by my mere glance, my eyes canceling his magic like a minor annoyance. When he finally closed the distance for melee, I drew my daggers, weaving them into a long staff.
He brandished a broadsword. We clashed—the force of our strikes sending shockwaves rippling through the chamber.
The ceiling shattered, walls crumbled, pillars toppled—sunlight poured in for the first time in days. The warmth kissed my caramel skin, revitalizing me. My hair, once wild and tangled, was now neatly tied back in a ponytail, cascading down my back. The sun's gleam reflected off my glowing purple eyes, momentarily blinding me as I parried each strike with ease.
Our battle was a dance—his strikes met with fluid counters, my movements effortless, practiced. Then Amela joined the fray, hurling a heavy chain at me. I caught it mid-air and yanked her forward with a surge of strength.
Before I could finish her, Lais intercepted with a powerful kick, blocking my shatter step.
Impressive. She had strength. But it wouldn't be enough.
I flickered out of sight, reappearing behind them with lightning speed, aiming to strike them both down.
Then the leash flared—an unbearable wall of pain surged through me. The slave mark Raiku had branded me with ignited, a brutal reminder that I was his puppet.
I clenched my teeth, refusing to scream, but the agony was relentless.
"Stop there, my disciples," Raiku's calm, commanding voice sliced through the chaos. The pain instantly vanished as I released my grip on the second disciple, my body trembling from the backlash.
I growled softly, anger bubbling fiercely beneath the surface.
"It's time for this one to reveal his name and true power. Follow me," Raiku ordered, rising and crossing his arms behind his back.
I sighed, knowing the mark still chained me to his will. But I would never forget this moment—the pain, the humiliation. One day, I would make him pay.
I rose, daggers sliding back to their sheaths at my hips. I wouldn't kill unless absolutely necessary—that was not who I was. They wouldn't break me.
But I would fight.
I would survive.
And when the time came, I would be the one standing over their shattered bodies.
For now, I followed.
Waiting.
Preparing.
Because my moment would come.
And when it did—I would be ready.