The Shadow Kael gave him no room at all.
He stepped forward, his scythe spinning in a wide arc, birthing a crimson storm that rolled through the air around him—wild, dense, nearly swallowing Kael whole. Every swing came down brutal and unhesitating, yet heavy with intent, as though he were not merely cutting through space, but trying to cleave the very dimension itself.
CKLING! CLANG! CKLING!
Kael blocked.
His body shifted half a step—left, then right—his feet striking the water's surface to keep his balance. His sword trembled violently each time it absorbed the impact.
At intervals, he tried to turn the tide with straight thrusts—fast, precise—but the Shadow Kael always twisted them aside with vicious pulls of his scythe.
A horizontal swing slammed into him.
Kael's body was flung backward, lifted several meters into the air, nearly thrown off balance. Yet instead of panicking, he twisted once midair—his foot pressing against emptiness—turning the momentum of the fall into a clean, spinning leap.
And in that moment…
Astra in his hand flashed briefly, then vanished in a burst of light.
When the rotation ended, both of his hands were already gripping Astron—a pair of white handguns with pulsing red light at their cores, lightning dancing along their barrels.
Then—
BANG!!
A single shot rang out. Fast. Straight.
The bullet seemed to pierce the air before the sound of the gunshot could even catch up.
The Shadow Kael didn't have time to raise his scythe.
The round slammed into his left chest—punching straight through, leaving a red, glowing hole in the center of his blood-crimson body.
The figure staggered.
The Shadow Kael lowered his head, staring at the hole in his chest… then let out a low laugh. A savage smile slowly spread across his face—not from pain, but from surprise laced with admiration.
"Ahhh… I forgot," he murmured softly, his voice cold, faintly trembling.
"You still have other toys besides that rusty sword of yours. And now… there are two. How troublesome." He lifted his gaze. "They've returned to their perfect state—as weapons you created."
Kael lowered one of the Astron.
Yet his narrow red eyes still burned with conviction. That cocky grin returned, faint but unwavering.
"Yeah," he replied calmly. "If I relied on just a single blade, I wouldn't be able to call myself Kael."
His right hand remained raised, aimed straight at the silent Shadow Kael.
"Shall we continue?" He paused. "Or—"
"Of course!" the Shadow Kael cut in, laughing with delight.
Without hesitation, Kael raised both Astron.
He pulled the triggers again and again.
DAR! DAR! DAR!
Red-silver bullets tore through the air—relentless, torrential, like a merciless rain of light. A total of thirty-three shots were fired in a single breath.
The Shadow Kael's grin stretched wider.
His eyes blazed red. The scythe Dregolauth danced in his hands.
CLING! CLANG! SWIISHH!
The curved blade spun at blinding speed, batting aside every bullet—to the left, to the right, upward, even from impossible angles. Each collision erupted in crimson sparks, the rounds exploding like fireworks in midair.
Yet he did not retreat.
Instead, the Shadow Kael continued to advance. Steady. Unshaken. As if the storm of gunfire were nothing more than a rhythm to accompany his steps.
Kael stopped.
He stared sharply—then smiled faintly. A smile brimming with confidence.
And at the same time, he hurled both Astron into the air. The two handguns floated, reflecting cosmic light… then vanished without a trace.
Kael crossed his arms before his chest.
An instant later, a deep golden light ignited in his grasp.
Fiyn.
A pair of twin daggers—the siblings of Astra—now fully perfected. No longer a single entity of half power, but a true dual set, harmonized just like Astron.
Kael raised them.
The twin blades crossed before his face. His hair lifted in the flaring aura, his eyes gleaming coldly.
"Now," he said softly, firmly, "let's try a different way. Come to me."
Without warning, Kael shot forward.
The Shadow Kael met him head-on, his scythe spinning as it sliced through the air.
"Ahhahahahah…!" That savage laughter echoed, merging with every clash.
CKLANGGG!!!
Fiyn collided with Dregolauth.
Golden and crimson sparks burst forth, waves of water thrown skyward.
In an instant, a new round began—a close-quarters duel.
Twin Fiyn against the giant scythe.
The first collision was only the beginning.
Kael lowered his stance.
The left Fiyn thrust straight ahead, while his right hand swept diagonally toward the Shadow Kael's waist. His movements were fast, relentless—each thrust followed by a short slash, building pressure without pause.
Dregolauth spun.
It deflected the left thrust.
Then smashed hard into the right slash.
—TINGGG!
Metal screamed.
Golden sparks and blood-red light sprayed outward.
Kael didn't stop.
He spun in a half circle, Fiyn flashing as it stabbed toward the neck. But the Shadow Kael tilted his scythe—the shaft intercepting the strike with pinpoint precision—then swung in a downward arc, aiming for Kael's legs.
SWIISSHH!!
The water split apart. Massive ripples spread outward.
Kael leapt lightly.
His body twisted midair. In that motion, both Fiyn spun at blinding speed, forming a vortex of golden light that crashed down from above.
The Shadow Kael flashed a savage grin.
He pushed back with his scythe, sweeping it in a half-circle, knocking both Fiyn blades aside.
An opening appeared.
The scythe shot horizontally toward Kael's chest.
But Kael had already moved faster. The two Fiyn crossed, bracing from below.
CKLINGG!
The vibration slammed into his body.
He held—then drove the left blade forward toward the Shadow Kael's shoulder.
The thrust only grazed the surface. Dark crimson flesh split thinly, and purple sparks burst from the wound.
The Shadow Kael only laughed more wildly.
"Stronger! Stronger!"
"Or you'll be the one torn apart!"
Kael didn't answer.
Instead, a faint smile curved his lips—calm, almost cold.
He moved again.
His body spun, both Fiyn launching a double thrust so fast the naked eye could barely follow.
TING! TANG! CLANGG!
Impact after impact exploded without pause.
Waves of water were thrown into the air, forming walls of spray that collapsed before they could ever settle. Golden light from Fiyn and blood-red glow from Dregolauth collided again and again, creating small explosions every time metal met metal.
Kael stabbed from the left—blocked.
He spun, attacked from the right—deflected.
A counterthrust nearly brushed the Shadow Kael's face, but he merely tilted his head, the blade slicing through strands of dark crimson hair whipping wildly in the air.
They grew faster.
More brutal.
Their bodies were no longer clearly visible—only overlapping afterimages charging at one another, each movement leaving trails of aura that slammed together: pulsing gold, raging blood-red, grinding against each other without mercy.
Splash! Splash! Splash!
Small explosions rang out repeatedly, tearing through the silence of Limbus Reveria, as though the space itself were screaming between each clash.
Unceasing.
Fiyn and Dregolauth continued to collide.
Thrusts and slashes spiraled through the air, forming vortices of light that swallowed one another. Gold and blood-red crashed, shattered, then fused again in an ever-denser chaos.
And—
CLANGG!!
A single violent impact tore them apart.
Both were hurled backward several meters, black water splitting beneath their feet.
Kael landed first.
Fiyn was still clenched tightly in both hands—but his breathing had grown heavy. His shoulders rose and fell, his chest tightening. Sweat mixed with blood streamed down his temple, dripping soundlessly into the water.
The Shadow Kael stood upright.
He looked at Kael without haste, his savage grin thinning—not disappearing, but sharpening into something else. Something calmer. Colder.
Kael lunged again.
Fiyn stabbed rapidly, in quick succession, but the rhythm was no longer as dense as before. Each step was still precise, yet the gaps between them—however small—could now be felt.
The scythe Dregolauth danced.
It deflected the first thrust.
Redirected the second.
Locked the path of the third.
Golden sparks and blood-red light scattered, yet the Shadow Kael was no longer pushed back. Instead, he began to advance—one step, then another—forcing Kael to react, not attack.
Kael ground his teeth.
He forced his body to move faster, Fiyn flashing as it stabbed again and again, but his breathing grew heavier. Each strike was becoming readable.
And the Shadow Kael… saw it.
"This is the moment…," he whispered softly.
The voice was nearly swallowed by the clashes, yet filled with cold certainty.
With a low, piercing laugh, the Shadow Kael spun Dregolauth. Not a wild slash—but a single, heavy swing from the side, deliberate and calculated.
Kael reacted on instinct.
He crossed both Fiyn to block—
CRRAAKKK!!
—but the impact was too strong.
"Ghhkkk—!"
The Fiyn in his right hand was blown away, ripped from his grip, spinning wildly before splashing into the water. In that same fraction of a second, Kael's balance collapsed.
And the crimson scythe… did not stop.
SREETTTT!!!
The sound of flesh tearing rang out clearly.
Blood sprayed violently, staining the black water as it rippled harshly. Kael's left arm was severed, spinning briefly through the air before sinking without a sound, while his body was driven backward by the force of the slash.
With his last reflex, Astra manifested in his right hand.
He drove it into the pool of black water—small waves dragged along by the force—one knee crashing down onto the dark surface. Warm blood mixed with the water, flowing together until they could no longer be told apart.
Kael fell silent.
His breath stopped for a moment. His gaze lowered, fixed on nothing at all. His only remaining hand clenched Astra tightly, while blood continued to pour relentlessly from his severed shoulder.
There was no laughter.
No cocky grin.
Only a breath held tight, a body trembling faintly.
He was not a god. Not a monster.
He was only human.
And humans… could feel pain.
The Shadow Kael slowly lowered his scythe, as if savoring the sight before him. His savage smile widened, and a low chuckle slipped out—soft, yet sharp enough to slice through the empty space between them.
"Hhh… one to one. And in the end…" He paused. "…you finally shut up."
His voice was cold, steeped in undisguised, demonic pleasure. "You really are utterly useless, Kael. The last assassin with no name left to him. Forgotten."
He laughed quietly. "Did you think you could keep grinning even after your blood ran dry? No, Kael. In the end, you're still fragile. Just flesh that can be torn, bones that can be broken."
His smile sharpened. "And I… am eternal."
The Shadow Kael walked closer.
His scythe dragged across the surface of the water, producing a low, grinding sound—slow, oppressive, repeating again and again, like a countdown to destruction.
"Do you know what's truly pathetic?" He tilted his head. "It's not that you lost to me… it's that you still think you can win."
He stopped.
"You're still clinging to that tiny spark in your eyes. That hope…" His tone softened, dripping with mockery. "…how foolish."
"Look at you now. Completely helpless."
Kael clenched his teeth.
His head remained lowered. His vision blurred, his body trembling harder. The shadow's laughter stabbed into his ears, tearing apart what little calm he had left.
"And you still hope to defeat me?"
The Shadow Kael snorted. "Huh. That will never happen."
He leaned closer, his voice pressing down, sinking deeper.
"So tell me… who are you really fighting for, Kael?"
For the first time, his tone slowed—more cruel than before.
"For a world that's already ruined? For people who don't even care whether you live or die?"
He smiled crookedly. "Or perhaps… for those vague faces you can't even keep clear in your own memories anymore?"
Kael's body jolted.
His eyes widened slightly, both pupils trembling violently. The voice pierced straight through his inner defenses, grinding them down without mercy.
Faces surfaced.
Father. Mother. Lira. The mysterious woman. And the white-haired child.
The images warped. Cracked. Nearly shattered.
Smiles he knew had once existed now faded again—like fragments of a dream slipping away.
The Shadow Kael grinned.
The red glow in his eyes burned brighter.
"Ah… see?"
He chuckled softly.
"Even now, you can't remember them properly."
"You want to protect them, don't you? You want to stand until the very end for her." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But in the end… you can't even speak her name anymore."
His smile widened. "How pitiful."
The whisper echoed like the voices of a thousand demons. "You've lost that hope. And without it, you…" He paused. "…are nothing more than a walking corpse."
Kael remained silent.
But his body stopped shaking.
His right hand tightened around Astra's hilt. His gaze froze. The ragged breaths that had filled his chest slowly settled into a steady rhythm—not because he was healed, but because his anger was crystallizing.
Blood continued to drip from his left shoulder, unceasing.
He knew.
He couldn't deny it. Couldn't pretend anymore.
The world around him seemed to dim, leaving only the echo of the shadow's laughter as it swallowed everything.
Then—a voice left his mouth.
Cold. Sharp. Trembling with rage no longer concealed.
"Shut up."
The Shadow Kael flinched.
His lips flattened. His eyes blinked once.
"Shut up…" Kael repeated, quiet yet forceful—like a blade piercing empty space.
"You talk too much. Life and death. Rage and hatred. Loss and affection." His breathing was audible. "All of it… nothing more than metaphors."
"I hate them, yet I cherish them. I love them, yet I hurt them." He lowered his head slightly. "Whether I die, live, or become a walking corpse—they'll remember every failure I ever was."
Kael drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "But failure is the beginning. Proof that someone once tried to surpass an impossible perfection."
His voice hardened, as if it no longer belonged solely to him—like it carried the weight of those judging the worth of his existence. "In truth… that only applies to the rulers—the laws, dreams, creation, time, destruction, and the void."
From the back of his right hand gripping Astra, a gentle golden light began to flow once more, seeping out from the Abyssal Seal as it slowly ignited. Tiny shimmering particles swirled around it, converging into a delicate vortex—like a miniature tornado—tightly embracing his grip.
The black water beneath him began to ripple, waves spreading around Kael's body.
The Shadow Kael froze.
His foot stepped back, unconsciously.
"The blind wish to see. The disabled wish to live normally." Kael paused. "And I…" His voice lowered, vibrating with resolve. "…right now. Today. At this very second."
Slowly—yet unmistakably—Kael forced himself to stand. His knees trembled, but his spirit refused to break. Astra rose, level with his chest, pointed toward the Shadow Kael in the distance.
The gaze that had once been lowered now lifted fully. His red pupils stared straight ahead—cold, unmoving, without pain, without doubt.
This was the real Kael. Kael who knew who he was. Kael who knew how destruction had swallowed everyone around him.
Then he spoke softly. But every word fell like a hammer.
"I'm still standing. And I will continue forward, just to prove it to you. Everything you've said is nothing but a thread of fate—one that leads to your own death, already woven by my hand."
And at the end, his voice rose—no longer just for his shadow, but for himself.
"I am not hope. Nor am I failure. I am a legacy that refuses to be erased." His breath trembled, but his eyes remained lifted.
"I am a walking will to live. I am not who they remember—I am who they witness here and now."
His voice rang out, firm and breaking. "And I… am Kael Vieron! The last assassin of The Silent Oath. Ready to fight until the very end!!!"
***