Whispers of Shikiban:The king walks among us-Chapter 47 --

Usui staggered back, his legs barely supporting him. His chest rose and fell in short, shallow bursts. Blood oozed from cuts all over his body—shoulder, arm, side—each one screaming for attention. But he couldn't focus on the pain. Not now. Not after what he just saw.

Reika.

She was crumpled on the ground like a discarded doll. Her body twisted unnaturally. Her katana lay a few feet from her, lifeless like her. The battlefield was quiet now—eerily so. Just moments ago, it had been a blur of motion, a frenzy of blades, a storm of screams and steel. Now it was dead quiet.

His vision flickered. He blinked hard, trying to bring the world back into focus. The heat, the smell of scorched dirt and blood, the adrenaline still pounding in his veins—it was all too real.

But still... had he really done it? Had he killed her?

Usui's grip tightened on his katana. The blade was coated in blood—hers and his. His whole body screamed at him to rest, to collapse beside her and let the world fade. But something in him refused. Something primal. Something bitter.

He took a slow step forward, knees wobbling.

"Reika," he whispered.

No response.

He knelt beside her, every movement a struggle. The weight of the fight sat on his shoulders like chains. Her face was turned away, hair matted with blood, skin pale. She wasn't moving.

He almost let his sword fall. Almost.

Then her chest moved. A shallow breath. A tremble.

Usui's blood ran cold.

Her eyes opened.

Not weak. Not fading. No—feral. Glowing green with something beyond rage. Beyond survival. Something ancient and terrifying.

She groaned, the sound low and broken. Slowly, with effort that sent fresh blood pouring from a wound on her side, she pushed herself up. Her arms trembled under her weight.

Usui watched in stunned silence. His heartbeat, already frantic, now slammed in his chest like a war drum.

Reika's lips curled into a sneer. Blood painted her teeth.

"You thought I died?" she croaked. "Seriously?"

Her voice was cracked and hoarse, but it carried weight. Not desperation—defiance.

Usui's instinct screamed at him to end it now. But something about her stopped him. The way she stood, barely able to breathe, barely holding herself up—and yet, there was power building.

He lifted his blade, more out of reflex than intent. "Then prove it."

Reika's laugh was dry. Unhinged.

"You still don't get it," she whispered.

Then the air changed.

Dark energy bled from her body, coiling around her like smoke. It shimmered, twisted, crawled up her limbs and into the hilt of her katana. The weapon pulsed in her grip like it had a heartbeat of its own.

Usui's breath hitched. He'd never seen anything like it.

She pressed a hand to her bleeding stomach, and with a hiss that made even him flinch, the energy surged into her wound. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.

She screamed.

Not from fear. From the sheer, overwhelming agony of what she was doing to herself. Her back arched, her teeth clenched, but she didn't stop. The energy wasn't healing—it was forcing her body to move, to mend, to fight.

Usui watched in horrified awe.

Her wounds began to close—unnaturally. The bleeding slowed. Her breathing steadied. But she was still shaking. Still bleeding inside.

And still alive.

"I'm just getting started," Reika said, dragging herself to her feet. Her voice was cracked and raw, but behind it was madness. Fire.

Before Usui could react, she was on him.

Her katana swung fast—jagged, erratic, brutal. Not elegant. Not clean. Wild. Desperate.

Steel screamed as their blades collided again and again. Sparks lit the air between them.

Usui fought back with everything he had left, but she was relentless. Her attacks weren't perfect, but they didn't have to be. Each swing was a question. A challenge.

Will you kill me before I kill you?

He barely parried a strike aimed at his throat. Spun away from a downward slash that would've cleaved his shoulder. But he was slowing down.

Reika wasn't.

Pain drove her. Fury sharpened her.

Their swords locked again. Faces inches apart.

Her eyes bored into him—burning, crazed, alive.

He gritted his teeth. "You should've stayed down."

She grinned. "You should've finished the job."

With a sudden twist, her blade slashed up. It caught his side—not deep, but enough. Blood spurted, warm and immediate.

He gasped, staggered back, trying to reset.

Reika didn't let him.

"Enough games!" she screamed, and lunged forward. Her katana sank into his gut.

Usui's eyes shot wide. His breath caught.

Pain.

Real pain.

Hot, sharp, consuming.

The blade pushed deep. Too deep.

His grip loosened. His katana hit the ground with a metallic thud.

His knees buckled.

He fell, hands clutching at the wound, blood pouring between his fingers.

Reika stood over him. Her hair wild, her skin pale and blood-soaked, her eyes burning with something feral and terrible.

Then she stabbed again.

And again.

Each thrust was brutal, her body jerking with every blow.

"DIE!" she screamed. "DIE! DIE!"

Usui's body jerked under her.

He tried to scream, but nothing came out.

His chest rattled. His mouth filled with blood.

But she didn't stop.

Her arms shook from exhaustion, her breathing ragged and torn—but she didn't stop.

Her face twisted into something between fury and ecstasy.

Madness.

This wasn't about winning anymore.

This was personal.

Reika raised the katana one last time and plunged it into his chest.

A crack echoed—bone, heart, life.

Usui's body jerked violently. Then fell still.

Gone.

Silence.

She stood over him, the blade still embedded in his chest. Her arms hung limp. Her legs threatened to collapse. Her blood mixed with his in a dark pool beneath them.

Her breath hitched. Her whole body shook.

But she didn't fall.

Not yet.

Her eyes stayed locked on his face.

He was gone.

For real this time.

She dropped to her knees, the pain finally crashing over her like a wave. Her limbs screamed. Her chest felt like it might cave in. Her vision blurred.

But the fire inside her didn't dim.

"You thought I'd die..." she whispered. "But I'm not finished yet. I'm the fire that burns all obstacles."

Above, the remaining Shikiban watched. Silent.

Judging.

But she didn't care.

Her gaze stayed on Usui's body. The weight of it all sank in. The cost. The blood. The rage. The silence.

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And yet—she stood.

Barely.

She rose to her feet, broken but not beaten.

And looked down at the boy who once thought he'd win.

"This is how kings fall," she said, voice cold and final.

No glory.

No legacy.

Just blood.

And silence.