The air above Purasia's main thoroughfare didn't just vibrate; it screamed.
Mikasa moved like a streak of golden lightning, her heavy sword carving a path through the heat-shimmering air.
Her "Warrior's Will" was a physical weight, pushing down the dust and silencing the crowd. But Kaito didn't move until the golden blade was inches from his throat.
With a motion so fluid it looked like a glitch in reality, Kaito unsheathed a fraction of his blade.
The sound of metal meeting metal was not a clash, but a dull, hungry thud. The Void in his steel swallowed the momentum of Mikasa's strike instantly.
"What an irritating kid," Kaito said, his voice as cold as a mountain grave.
Before Mikasa could pull back, Kaito's right leg blurred. He didn't just kick her; he released a concentrated burst of Nihil Fade through his heel. The impact sounded like a cannon blast.
Mikasa was launched backward, her body a blue blur that smashed through a merchant's stall, then a stone wall, and continued tumbling until she was a mere speck in the distance of the dusty street.
"Commander!" Jafar roared.
The former War Lord, fueled by a mixture of grief for the shopkeeper and loyalty to his comrade, lunged from the shadows.
He swung his sword at Kaito's exposed back with every ounce of his remaining strength.
Kaito didn't turn. He simply reached behind his head, his hand darkening as the Void swirled around his fingers. He caught Jafar's blade mid-swing.
The sheer force of the collision sent a spiderweb of cracks through the cobblestones for ten meters in every direction.
With a casual twitch of his fingers, the high-grade steel of Jafar's sword shattered into a dozen jagged shards.
Kaito spun, his fist cocked back for a strike that would have leveled a building, but he stopped an inch from Jafar's face.
The pressure of the fist alone drew blood from Jafar's nose. Kaito sighed, the darkness in his eyes flickering.
"I also feel sad for that shopkeeper," Kaito muttered, his voice dropping the edge of malice.
Jafar froze, his eyes wide and trembling. "So... you were watching? You were there the whole time?
" A wave of fresh agony washed over him, turning his grief into a desperate, frantic anger.
He stepped forward, swinging a raw, powerless punch at Kaito's chest.
"If you felt that sad, then why didn't you save him?! Why let a good man die for a ghost like me?!"
Kaito looked down at the ground, the shadows at his feet beginning to pool and writhe like ink in water.
"Because some deaths carry more weight than a life," he whispered.
Before Jafar's fist could connect, Kaito slammed his palm into the earth. "Shadow Sleep."
The shadows rose like silk ribbons, wrapping around Jafar's legs and pulling him down into a dreamless, forced unconsciousness.
Jafar slumped over, but Kaito didn't have time to catch him.
SHLICK.
A cold, agonizing pain bloomed in Kaito's left shoulder. He looked down to see a jagged, crimson-stained blade protruding through his collarbone.
The Crimson Brothers had arrived. Sword Crimson held the hilt, his face twisted in a manic, bloodthirsty grin.
Behind him, Revolver Crimson stood with his weapon leveled at Kaito's temple.
Kaito spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the hot sand. He didn't scream. He didn't even wince. He just looked back at Sword Crimson over his shoulder.
"Next time," Kaito rasped, his eyes turning a terrifying, translucent gray, "you should target my head."
Kaito's own sword, still sheathed, suddenly erupted with a violent burst of Will. He hurled the entire weapon backward with a flick of his wrist.
The sheathed blade, fused with the Void, acted like a railgun. It bypassed Sword Crimson and pierced through the skull of Revolver Crimson before the man could pull his trigger.
The younger brother's head snapped back, and he died before his body hit the dust.
"NO!" Sword Crimson shrieked.
Kaito didn't give him a second to mourn. He pivoted on his good leg and delivered a spinning hook kick directly into Sword Crimson's chest. The sound of ribs shattering was like a bundle of dry sticks snapping in a fire.
The force sent the elder brother flying into the wreckage of a nearby building, his lungs punctured, unable to even scream through the blood filling his throat.
Kaito staggered. The wound in his shoulder was deep, and the "Will" on the crimson blade was beginning to eat at his internal energy.
"It's a bit crowded today," Kaito whispered to himself.
He felt them before he saw them. From the shadows of the alleyways, Yanto and Yurata emerged, looking battered but vengeful.
And from the main gates of the Royal Palace, a golden carriage stopped.
Lord Ethan stepped out, his face a mask of cold arrogance. Behind him marched ten warriors clad in obsidian armor—the King's Guard. Each one radiated a Will that rivaled a Vice Commander.
"It's your last day, Shadow Fang," Yanto sneered, drawing his twin daggers.
Kaito stood alone in the center of the square, surrounded by thirteen of the most dangerous men in Purasia, blood dripping steadily from his shoulder onto the parched earth.
The King of the Shadow World
While Kaito stood in the center of the storm, Jafar was elsewhere.
He stood in a place of absolute stillness. There was no sun, no heat, and no desert wind. Everything was a deep, velvet violet. The ground beneath his feet was like a mirror made of dark water.
"Where... where am I?" Jafar whispered.
"In the Shadow World," a voice replied.
Jafar spun around to see Kaito sitting on a throne made of swirling smoke. He looked different here—taller, more ancient, his eyes glowing with the light of a thousand dead stars.
"It is an illusory realm where only souls can enter," Kaito said, his voice echoing like thunder in a canyon. "In this place, I am the King. Your body is safe in the waking world, protected by the remnants of my Will."
"Why did you bring me here?" Jafar asked, falling to his knees.
Kaito leaned forward. "Because I cannot see your suffering without offering a choice.
Tell me, Jafar... what if you could live a peaceful life?
A world where your people love you, where nobody betrays their neighbor, where there is only peace and love. What if you could spend your life in that light?"
Jafar's eyes filled with tears. "It... it sounds like heaven."
Kaito shook his head slowly. "Heaven is also cruel, Jafar. It is hard to live peacefully in a world built on lies. So, what will you choose? A dream filled with peace... or this cruel, bloody reality?"
Jafar looked at his scarred hands. He thought of the shopkeeper. "A man never kneels," the man had said.
"A man I once knew told me," Jafar said, his voice growing steady, "that even if this world is cruel, we are men. And a man doesn't stop, and he doesn't kneel. I choose the truth, no matter how much it burns."
Kaito smiled—a genuine, fleeting expression of respect. "As expected of the Legendary Commander.
But tell me... why did they call a man like you a traitor?"
Jafar sighed, the weight of years of silence finally lifting. "When a son kills his father for a kingdom's throne, who takes the responsibility? The Prince killed the King, the kindest man I ever knew. But if the people knew the Prince was a parricide, the kingdom would have collapsed into civil war.
I took the blame. I let the world believe I killed the King for personal revenge, just to keep the peace. The rest... became history."
Kaito stood up from his throne of smoke. "Then it is time to start a new life, Jafar. The debt of your silence is paid."
Kaito began to fade, and the violet darkness was washed away by a blinding, warm light. In that light, Jafar saw a figure standing by a stall of spices. It was the shopkeeper.
He looked young, healthy, and happy. He waved a hand at Jafar, a final, silent goodbye before stepping into the light forever.
"Wait!" Jafar cried, reaching out.
But the light vanished. Jafar felt a hard object in his palm. He looked down to see a small, worn merchant's card. On it was written a name: Hal Sherlock.
Jafar's eyes snapped open in the waking world. He was lying in the dust of the Purasian street. The merchant card was still clutched in his hand, a physical tether to the man he had lost.
Ahead of him, the scene was grim. Kaito was on one knee, his shoulder soaked in blood, surrounded by Ethan, Yanto, Yurata, and the ten King's Guards.
Their Wills were vibrating together, creating a pressure that was liquefying the stone ground.
Suddenly, a voice echoed inside Jafar's head—not through his ears, but directly into his consciousness.
"Jafar, listen to me,
" Kaito's voice said via Shadow Talk. "I am going to create an opening.
You must take Mikasa and leave this city immediately. The King's Guards aren't just here for me.
They have orders to execute Mikasa for her 'treason' in helping you. Save her."
"I will kill you!" Sword Crimson suddenly screamed, dragging his broken body out of the rubble. "You killed my brother! I'll tear your soul out!"
Sword Crimson's scream acted as the signal. He lunged forward, a desperate, dying strike.
Jafar saw his chance. He scrambled to his feet, eyes darting toward where Mikasa lay unconscious in the distance. But as he took his first step, a figure blurred in front of him.
A swordsman with hair like silver needles and a blade that hummed with a high-pitched, electric frequency blocked his path. Hajimo, the elite captain of the King's Guard.
"A traitor and an invader," Hajimo said, his voice smooth and mocking as he drew his rapier. "What a lovely team you make. Where do you think you're going, Outcast?"
Jafar stood his ground. He had no sword. He had no armor. But as he looked at the merchant card in his hand, his eyes didn't flicker with fear.
"I'm not an outcast anymore," Jafar said, his voice resonating with a power he hadn't felt in years. "I am a man who was told to be strong."