The rain fell in torrents, drumming against the earth as thunder roared across the heavens. It was as if the sky itself wept for the carnage below.
The battlefield reeked of blood and steel, the storm masking the cries of the dying. The battle had reached its peak, and Shin knew he had to end it quickly.
His thoughts flickered to the fox-kin. He needed to see if she was alright.
"Don't just stand there, you idiots! Attack!" Valerius bellowed.
The guards surged forward, swords drawn, their eyes filled with desperation. Shin swept his katana through the air with a single, fluid motion, blocking the attacks before him. His tails lashed out behind him, intercepting strikes with terrifying precision.
The storm mirrored his turmoil. Lightning crackled overhead, illuminating the battlefield in sharp flashes, highlighting the blood spraying through the rain. Each strike he landed sent shockwaves through the earth, bodies hitting the mud with sickening thuds.
His hardened fur turned into lethal spears, impaling his enemies through their hearts, heads, and vital points. Blood mixed with the rain, turning the courtyard into a macabre river of gore that reflected the stormy sky like a crimson mirror.
One guard, braver or perhaps more foolish than the rest, lunged at Shin's back. Without turning, Shin flicked his wrist, and a tail shot out like a whip, slicing through the air.
The sharp tip pierced through the man's throat, lifting him off the ground as he gargled on his own blood. The heavy rain beat down on the dying man's body, his final gurgles swallowed by the storm. Shin's eyes remained forward, scanning the battlefield as he flung the lifeless body aside like discarded meat.
The guard captain charged, his attacks relentless. The air around him vibrated with each powerful swing, raindrops splitting apart on the force of his blade.
Shin watched him, his eyes sharp and calculating. The more the captain swung, the more predictable his movements became.
He let the man exhaust himself, deflecting each strike with minimal effort. His tails acted as both spear and shield, cutting down any other guards who dared approach. Shin remained untouchable, his form fluid as he danced between blades, turning their aggression into their downfall.
A sudden gust of wind howled through the courtyard, knocking loose banners from their poles and sending them spiraling through the air. The guards began attacking in pairs, attempting to flank him from both sides.
One came at him with a spear while the other swung his sword in a diagonal arc. Shin twisted his body, dodging the spear by a hair's breadth while his katana intercepted the sword strike.
Using the force of their momentum against them, he spun low, sweeping the legs out from under the spearman before plunging Yoshimatsu into his chest. Thunder roared as the blade struck true. The swordsman barely had time to react before Shin drove his elbow into his jaw, shattering bone and sending him crumpling to the mud.
For a brief moment, Shin paused, his breath misting in the cold rain. His heart pounded—not with exhaustion, but with something deeper, something unspoken. He had fought battles before, slain countless men, but this time felt different.
This wasn't just another battle. This was his chance to save the fox-kin, to change something. Why did that matter so much? Why did she matter so much?
Shin clenched his jaw, shaking off the thought. There was no time for hesitation. The fight wasn't over. And he refused to lose.
One by one, their morale shattered. Some threw down their weapons and fled into the storm, their terror overriding any sense of loyalty. Only the guard captain remained, his breath ragged, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. He lunged again, wild and desperate.
"Stop moving, you maggot!" he snarled, swinging furiously.
Shin didn't stop. He prowled around him, deliberate, unreadable. He was the predator now, and the guard captain knew it. The captain's confidence cracked with each missed swing, his frustration morphing into fear.
"You'll pay for what you did to my babies!" the captain howled, his voice breaking as he lashed out again.
Shin ignored his words. He had heard them all before, from men who reveled in cruelty but crumbled when faced with true judgment.
When the moment came, he struck. A brutal kick landed square in Valerius' solar plexus, sending him sprawling to the ground.
His axes flew from his grip, their blades embedding into the soaked earth. He clutched his stomach, coughing up blood, his body convulsing as bile and remnants of his last meal spewed onto the mud.
Valerius, gasping, tried to scramble back and get back up, but Shin stepped forward, kneeling and looking at the dual axes his enemy wielded. He picked up one of the axes, testing its weight before hurling it.
The blade sang through the air, slicing cleanly through the captain's right arm. A tortured scream echoed through the courtyard, blending with the rolling thunder.
The second ax followed, severing the other limb. The captain thrashed, his screams drowned by the storm, his body writhing like a worm in the mud.
The remaining guards hesitated, horror plastered across their faces. Some turned to flee, but those loyal to the rebellion seized them, forcing them to share the fate they once inflicted on others.
Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. They were cut down where they stood, their cries swallowed by the chaos.
The captain sobbed, his blood pooling beneath him as he writhed, trapped and broken. "P-please..." he gasped, his voice barely audible through the downpour.
Shin said nothing. He lifted the axes, commanding them with a flick of his wrist. The weapons surged forward, slicing into the guard captain with merciless precision. Blow after blow rained down, turning flesh to pulp, reducing the once-feared man into nothing more than unrecognizable carnage.
In his final moments, the captain's vision twisted. The storm blurred into shifting shapes, grotesque, shadowy figures of those he had tortured, their faces twisted in malicious delight.
Laughter echoed around him, a haunting chorus of vengeance. The Woldrats he once tamed gnawed at his body, sinking their teeth into his flesh, and dragging him into the abyss.
His mind could no longer separate reality from nightmare. He saw the faces of the innocent he had broken, their mouths wide in silent screams, their cold, dead eyes staring at him with endless condemnation.
Their hands, spectral and unyielding, clawed at him, pulling him apart piece by piece as if dragging him to hell itself. Every limb torn from his body felt as though his sins were being carved into his very soul, branding him for eternity. His screams joined theirs, lost in the tempest, his suffering becoming one with the storm.
Then, silence.
Shin exhaled and released the axes, letting them fall to the ground. Yoshimatsu's red glow slowly changed to silver, radiating from its blade.
With a swift motion, he unsheathed it in a devastating arc, cutting through the remnants of the weapons left on the battlefield, including Valerius' axes. The shattered fragments of steel disintegrated into pure energy, and their mana siphoned into the sword's blade.
The air hummed with power as Shin performed a flawless iaijutsu, his blade returning to its scabbard with a crisp, controlled snap—so precise that the sound of the bells and his blade echoed despite the storm's fury. For a brief moment, the rain seemed to pause around him, as if even nature itself acknowledged the mastery of his technique.
He surveyed the battlefield, the bodies strewn across the courtyard. The fight was over. The rebellion had claimed victory this night, but there was no joy in the air, only the smell of death and the weight of blood-soaked justice.
But he had one more task.
Turning toward the treeline, he sprinted into the darkness, his heart pounding with urgency. The fox-kin was still out there, and he needed to find her.
The rain obscured his vision, and the forest was dense with shadows and movement. He could hear the distant rustling of the fleeing Lichtensteins, their hurried steps betraying their desperation. He could track them and finish what was started, but something in his chest tightened. The fox-kin came first.
His pace quickened, leaping over fallen branches and cutting through the undergrowth. If she was wounded, if she had been overpowered... no. He wouldn't let that thought take root. Not until he found her.
The storm raged on, but Shin ran through it, unfazed. The battle was over, but his war had only just begun.
The howling wind seemed to whisper doubts, but he pushed forward. Each step carried the weight of what had been lost and what was yet to come.
He could almost feel her presence ahead, fragile but still alive. He clenched his fists, hoping—no, willing—that he was not too late.
"Just hold on," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the storm. "I'm coming."
If there was one thing he knew with certainty, it was this. He would not lose her. Not now. Not ever.