The injured Nightguard moved like a man who didn’t want to be seen. His steps were uneven, his head low, his arm useless at his side. The trio followed from a distance, their boots crunching against dirt and gravel as they passed the crooked buildings of the village. The further he went, the fewer villagers there were. The noise, thin as it was, faded into silence. And then, the first rock flew.

  It smacked against the ground a few feet from him, raising a puff of dust. He didn’t stop walking. Another rock followed, then another, and soon a handful of children emerged from the shadows, their eyes mean, their hands full of stones.

  “Useless!” a boy shouted. He lobbed a rock that hit the man’s shin.

  The man staggered but kept his head down. He didn’t speed up. He didn’t stop. He didn’t react at all.

  “Coward!” a girl shrieked, her voice cracking. “Why don’t you go fight the Tengu now, huh?”

  The man reached the corner of the street, where the shadow of a ruined house leaned over the dirt road. He stopped there, looking at the ground. His good hand flexed once, twice. Then he stepped forward, vanishing into an alley. The kids jeered one last time and scattered, their shouts ringing in the air.

  Rinne watched, her arms crossed, the edges of her fingers digging into her sleeves. Shigure was the first to break the silence.

  “Lovely little town,” he muttered. He started forward. “Let’s see where our friend’s hiding.”

  The alley was narrow, full of trash and broken wood, with moss creeping up the edges of the walls. The man’s steps echoed faintly ahead of them. They followed until the alley opened into a small clearing between two buildings. It was nothing more than a patch of dirt surrounded by leaning walls and junk—broken pottery, a pile of rotting planks, and an old, rusted cart that leaned like it had given up. The man slumped against the cart, his back to them, his head tilted forward.

  “You’re persistent,” he said without turning around. “What do you want?”

  Rinne stepped closer, but not too close. “We want to know what happened,” she said. “If we’re going to stop it, we need to know what we’re up against.”

  The man turned his head slightly, enough to look at her from the corner of his eye. He said nothing for a long moment, then straightened and turned fully, resting his good arm on the cart’s edge.

  “You want to know what happened?” he said. His voice was quiet, but not soft. “Fine. I’ll tell you.”

  He looked past Rinne, toward the edge of the alley, where the street seemed to blur into shadow. His good hand curled into a loose fist. “It wasn’t just a monster,” he said. “It wasn’t just some cursed thing you can stab and call it a day. It was a goddamn storm with a face.”

  Rinne didn’t flinch, but her stance shifted, her weight settling more evenly on her feet. Behind her, Shigure leaned against a wall, his arms crossed, and Levi stood rigid, his jaw tight.

  “It came out of nowhere,” the man continued, his voice growing sharper. “One moment, we’re scouting the edge of the mountains, and the next, the wind is howling like the whole forest is alive. With its right hand, it pulled the wind around us. Before I could even react, it sent Misaki into a boulder so hard her spine snapped like a dry twig.”

  He paused, his eyes narrowing as if he could still see it happening. “Takeshi tried to cover her. His body could turn to stone, you know? He thought he’d be fine. But with its left hand, the Tengu called the lightning. It hit him dead center. He turned to ash right before my eyes.”

  Rinne’s breath slowed, her fingers twitching at her sides. The man turned his eyes on her now, his face set like stone.

  “You think you’re ready for that?” he asked, his voice rising. “You think you can stop it? Because I thought I was ready, too. And now I’m the only one left.”

  For a moment, no one spoke. Then Shigure laughed.

  “Well,” Shigure said, his smirk lazy, “good thing we’re not you.”

  The man glared at him, his lips pulling into a snarl. “You think this is funny?”

  “No,” Shigure said, stepping away from the wall. “But I think you’re giving that thing too much credit. Rinne and I? We’ll take care of it.” He glanced over at Levi, his smirk widening into something sharper. “Though I am curious why the Captain decided to saddle us with him. Some kind of test, maybe? A promotion trial?”

  Levi’s hands clenched into fists, his face darkening. “Say that again,” he said, his voice low.

  Shigure tilted his head, his smirk unfaltering. “Just saying, it seems odd to drag someone unproven into something like this. Unless, of course, you’re not unproven and I just missed the part where you did something impressive.”

  Levi stepped forward, his shoulders stiff. “I’ll show you impressive,” he snapped. “You want to test me? Fine.”

  Rinne’s voice cut through them before Shigure could reply. “Enough.”

  She stepped between them, her tone sharp but controlled. “If you two are so desperate to prove something, then fine. Spar. This afternoon. There’s a clearing east of here. We’ll settle it then.”

  Shigure raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “Sounds fun. Let’s hope Levi doesn’t get cold feet.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Levi barked a laugh, his fists tightening. “I’ll be there. Let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are.”

  Rinne sighed, her patience wearing thin. “Then it’s settled. We’ve got a Tengu to deal with, and I don’t have time for babysitting. Be ready.”

  She turned and walked away, leaving Shigure and Levi to glare at each other in the quiet. The injured man watched them go, shaking his head slowly. “You’re all insane,” he muttered.

  No one disagreed.

  The field buzzed with quiet murmurs. More people had gathered than Rinne expected—men, women, even a few children clustered on the edges of the space, their faces lit with anticipation. Word had traveled fast. It always did in these tiny villages. Shigure’s big mouth hadn’t helped; he’d spent the morning strutting around, dropping hints and smirks, promising to “demonstrate the true skill of a Nightguard elite.”

  Rinne stood off to the side, arms crossed, trying not to grind her teeth. Shigure had already drawn enough attention, and now the whole village was here, treating this like some festival sideshow. She scanned the faces in the crowd, then glanced back at the field. Shigure and Levi stood apart, the space between them as charged as the crowd was quiet. Nothing moved. Not the wind, not the leaves, not even the clouds.

  Shigure’s hand rested on the hilt of his katana, his posture relaxed, casual, like he’d wandered into this by accident. His smirk said otherwise. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes locked on Levi, looking amused, looking bored, looking like someone who’d already decided how this was going to end.

  Levi didn’t smirk. He didn’t say a word. His hand tightened around the strap of his bowling bag, his knuckles pale against the dark leather. His stance was rigid, his eyes sharp, the look of a man who’d been insulted twice—first by Shigure’s words, now by his smirk.

  “Take it easy on him, Shigure!” Rinne’s voice rang out. It wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be. She hated how she sounded—too loud, like someone who cared too much about what was about to happen.

  Shigure didn’t look at her. He didn’t even blink. His smirk widened. “Don’t worry, Rinne,” he said, his voice carrying just enough to needle. “I’ll go easy. But you know, even two percent of my power might be too much for our boy here.”

  Levi dropped the bag. The thud it made wasn’t loud, but in the silence, it landed like a gunshot. He crouched, unzipping it. Inside, the eight polished steel bowling balls gleamed under the sun, their surfaces so smooth they seemed to ripple with heat.

  Shigure raised an eyebrow. “You’re committed, I’ll give you that,” he said, watching as Levi straightened. “A little weird, but committed.”

  Levi didn’t answer. He raised his hand, his fingers twitching once. The balls lifted off the ground, slow at first, then faster, spreading into a floating circle around him. His sorcery was Magnetism — the ability to freely control anything magnetic.

  Shigure’s smirk twitched, just for a second. He reached for his blade, drawing it in one fluid motion. The metal caught the light, sharp and bright. “Well,” he said, rolling his shoulders once. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  He moved before the last word left his mouth, launching forward in a blur. The earth tore beneath his feet, dirt and grass exploding behind him. Levi’s hand snapped forward, and one of the bowling balls shot toward Shigure like a cannonball. The crack of its speed split the air.

  Shigure twisted mid-step, the ball whipping past him close enough to graze his sleeve. Another came right behind it, and then another, a blur of silver that tore at the ground and sent dust spiraling into the air. Shigure didn’t stop moving. He weaved through the onslaught with quick fluid steps, ducking, twisting, pivoting, each movement just enough to keep him ahead of the strikes.

  “Is this it?” he called, sidestepping a ball that smashed into the ground beside him, kicking up a spray of dirt. His voice was light, taunting, though the sharpness in his eyes betrayed something else. “Come on, Levi! Make it exciting!”

  Levi’s expression didn’t change. His focus sharpened, and two of the balls peeled off, arcing wide to catch Shigure from either side. At the same time, a third barreled toward him straight on, its speed even faster than the others.

  Shigure’s blade flashed, slicing through the incoming ball with a metallic ring. The two halves spun away, slamming into the dirt. His eyes flicked to the others converging on him. He leapt, flipping backward just as the two balls collided beneath him with a dull boom that rattled the ground.

  He landed lightly, his blade glowing faintly now, shining with energy. Levi twitched his fingers, and one of the remaining balls compressed, flattening into a wide shield that flew to his side just as Shigure lunged. The katana struck the shield with a clang that echoed across the field. Sparks flew, scattering between them. Levi staggered back a step but held his ground, his jaw tightening as he sent the rest of the balls toward Shigure in a sharp, circling attack.

  Shigure disengaged, twisting away as the balls closed in. They smashed into the ground where he’d been standing, throwing up a cloud of dirt and debris. For a moment, nothing was visible but the swirling haze of dust.

  When it cleared, Shigure stood several meters away, his blade glowing brighter now. Levi raised his hand again, focusing on the katana, the metal trembling faintly under the pull of his power. For the first time, Shigure’s smirk wavered.

  “You think you can take it from me?” Shigure muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His grip on the blade tightened, and the glow surged, forcing the tremor to stop. “Not today.”

  He swung the blade in a wide arc, unleashing a crescent of light that split the air as it shot toward Levi. The bowling balls moved to intercept, but the beam sliced through them without slowing. Levi raised the shield, bracing himself, but the light shattered it like glass, the force throwing him backward.

  When he hit the ground, the crowd gasped, a low ripple of sound breaking the silence. Shigure stood still, his blade dimming as he sheathed it with a single, smooth motion.

  “Dead,” he said simply. “If I’d meant it.”

  Rinne’s voice snapped from the sideline. “Shigure! You didn’t need to—”

  He turned to her, shrugging as he walked away. “Relax, Rinne,” he said, glancing back at Levi. “I held back. Next time, maybe come challenge me after you have improved your mana reinforcement.”

  The crowd began to disperse, but not everyone moved on right away. Kenji stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, his expression sour. He had the kind of face that looked older when he was scowling, and right now, he looked about twenty years older than the boy he was.

  When Shigure strode past him, that smug grin still plastered across his face, Kenji let out a sharp, derisive laugh. Loud enough to cut through the fading noise. Loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

  “Pathetic,” he said flatly, like the word tasted bad. He didn’t stick around to see if anyone responded. He just turned on his heel and walked away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his head down like the whole thing had been a waste of his time.

  Rinne caught the word as clearly as if it had been hurled straight at her. Her frown deepened, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched Kenji’s retreating back.

  “What’s his deal?” Shigure said from beside her, his smirk flickering as he glanced toward the boy. But quickly shrugged. “Whatever! Like I care…”