Whispers of Shikiban:The king walks among us-Chapter 57 --

The wind tore through the dead district of Kyoto, biting into the scorched remnants of once-great buildings. Ash swirled in the air like forgotten whispers, settling on broken windowsills and cracked pavement. It felt like the earth itself had forgotten how to breathe—like the life had been drained out of everything here.

Souta stood alone among the bodies of seven fallen Shikiban, their armor twisted and lifeless, reflecting the weak light of the dying day. His grey-white hair, long and unkempt, billowed in the wind, looking less like a man and more like a ghost, a relic of a time long passed. His eyes were cold, calculating, the kind that never flinched in the face of chaos.

A smile tugged at his lips—smug, knowing, and sharp.

"Seven at once, huh?" A voice called from behind him. It was calm, measured, the sound of someone who had seen too many battles to be fazed by the carnage around them.

Souta didn't flinch. He didn't even look back. His lips curved into a deeper smirk. "You already counted them, Kairo?"

From the shadows stepped Kairo Shinzawa, his dark blue hair sweeping over one shoulder, his steel-blue eyes flicking over the fallen Shikiban with detached amusement. His posture was poised, the confidence of someone who knew the battlefield as intimately as his own body. He let the silence stretch for a beat before speaking again.

"You always steal the spotlight," Kairo said, a small chuckle slipping from his mouth. "You hit Rank I(1) at nineteen. Me? I'm barely at I(2) at twenty-one. Makes me wonder how you do it."

Souta hopped down from the mound of bodies, brushing ash from his coat as if the whole mess around him meant little. "It's not about speed. It's about control. Focus. Precision."

He glanced at Kairo, his expression momentarily softening into something almost... real. A rare smile, faint but genuine, passed over his lips. "When you learn to control your emotions, you control your energy. And when you control your energy, you become stronger."

Kairo gave a small nod, but his smile faded a little. "Yeah, strength is what we need. Because, in the end, our only goal is to kill the Shikiban King."

Souta's smirk vanished, replaced by an unreadable expression. He nodded once, the gravity of the words sinking into him like a stone in water.

"But we don't even know his name," Souta muttered, eyes darkening. "No identity. No face. No rumors. Nothing."

Kairo's eyes narrowed, his mind already churning through the possibilities. "Kenjiku-san said the King commands ten elites. Each one taught personally. They're called the Zai."

Follow current novels on freewebnσvel.cѳm.

Souta ran a hand over his chin, the faintest glint of a plan forming in his eyes. "Yeah. Zai One through Zai Ten. Each mastering a technique only the King could've created."

Kairo blinked. "You knew that?"

Souta's gaze hardened. "I fought one of them. Just below Zai Ten. He was already broken—dying. I forced him to give me answers before he bled out."

"And?"

Souta's eyes flicked briefly to the horizon, the air between them thick with unsaid things. "He couldn't remember the King's face. Said it was... sealed. Like something unnatural. But before he died, he said one thing. A warning."

Kairo leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What did he say?"

Souta's voice dropped to a near whisper, carrying the weight of an ominous prophecy. "When the Blood Moon rises... the King appears. And when he does, even the strongest tremble."

Kairo's breath caught in his throat. "So the Blood Moon is a trigger?"

Souta's eyes remained fixed on the horizon, the edges of his thoughts still caught in the memory. "No. Worse. It's a signal. A prophecy."

He paused, his hand clenched into a fist at his side. Then, his voice became quieter, as if confiding a secret even the wind wasn't meant to hear. "But there's more. I found something in a sealed grimoire from the Eastern Temple."

Kairo raised an eyebrow. "Oh no. You've been reading again?"

Souta chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You're not surprised. It said this: 'Only one born under the Black Moon can defeat the King... but the price is unimaginable. Either sacrifice... or unbearable pain.'"

Kairo looked at him, unease settling like a heavy cloak on his shoulders. "Do you think someone like that even exists?"

Souta's eyes flickered for a moment, the weight of the question pulling him into some distant, hidden place. "Maybe. Maybe they already walk among us."

Before either could say more, a sharp flash of light streaked toward Souta, a razor-thin shard of glass cutting through the air like a bullet.

"Kairo!" Souta barely had time to react before the shard shattered in mid-air, splintering into dust with a pulse of invisible energy.

Souta didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He simply looked up, his voice low. "I was hoping for something harder."

From behind a cracked wall, a figure emerged—her steps light and deliberate, like the movement of a dancer. Her long violet hair shimmered in the fading light, and her eyes glimmered with a knowing amusement.

"Kiyumi Iburashi," Kairo exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Should've figured it was you."

Kiyumi giggled softly, the sound more playful than anything else. "Sorry, Souta. I wanted to test your reaction time."

"I passed," Souta said, brushing a shard of glass from his collar with a nonchalant flick of his fingers.

Kiyumi's smile was sweet, disarming. "As expected from Rank I(5). My Glass Techniques are getting sharper, but... I doubt I'll ever catch you off guard."

"Then don't try," Souta said, his faint grin returning. "Next time, I'll be the one testing you."

Kiyumi shivered, her smile playful and teasing. "Ooh, threatening. I like it."

But then Souta's expression darkened. His tone shifted, cold and sharp. "You're wrong."

Kiyumi tilted her head, intrigued. "Wrong about what?"

"You said I could defeat the King," Souta's voice was low, a trace of danger threading through his words. "But you've underestimated him. He's beyond Rank. Beyond logic. Beyond strength."

"We're getting stronger every day," Kiyumi said, her voice a little softer now, almost uncertain.

Souta's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "Strength isn't always enough."

A heavy silence settled between them, thick and uncomfortable. The wind howled, sweeping across the battlefield, carrying the scent of ash and decay. The sky above darkened further, painted in deep crimson hues, the sun retreating behind the horizon faster than it should. Night was arriving early, and with it, a sense of foreboding that none of them could shake.

Kairo broke the silence first, his voice quiet but steady. "Do you think the 0-Rank Kageshiki are still alive?"

Souta didn't answer immediately. His gaze fixed on something distant, his face unreadable as the wind tugged at his hair.

"Maybe," he said finally. "They stepped into Level 5."

Kiyumi frowned. "Most Kageshiki can survive Levels 1 to 4... barely. But Level 5? That's where even the soul starts to bleed."

"Level 5 is where you lose yourself," Souta muttered, his eyes distant. "Where the very core of who you are gets torn apart."

Kairo's voice was almost a whisper. "Do you think Reika made it?"

Souta's eyes softened, but there was no answer.

Then, almost to himself, he murmured, "Can you survive, Kagetsu Reika?"

The words hung in the air, weighty and final. No one spoke.

The clouds above parted just enough for the first sliver of a red moon to appear—barely a sliver, not full yet, but enough to make the air hum with an electric tension.

A chill ran down Kairo's spine. Kiyumi's playful expression faltered, her eyes narrowing.

Souta's eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he whispered, barely audible over the wind:

"It's starting."