The mountain trembled.

  Not from a quake.

  But from a man’s presence.

  Harun stepped out from the shadows—his frame aged, posture weary, but aura suffocating. Cloak scorched at the edges, skin etched in pulsing red runes. He looked nothing like a hero.

  But neither did the horror that made the world tremble long ago.

  The attackers stared, tense.

  Then one spoke low, as if afraid the mountain might hear.

  “That pressure…”

  Another took a step back. “No… It’s him. The one who tore apart the border cities.”

  “The Requiem of Yagami…”

  “I thought he vanished.”

  “No one like him disappears. He chooses when to sleep… and when to rise.”

  The leader's hand hovered near her bde. “So the ghost walks again.”

  Harun didn’t answer. He only looked at them—and that was enough to make three flinch.

  Then it began.

  One attacker dashed forward, a blur of flickering motion, bdes slicing air faster than sound. He left a dozen afterimages in his wake.

  Harun didn't wait.

  He dragged a rune-lined boot across the floor, igniting a spiral of fme that exploded upward. The attacker was caught mid-step, his bdes stopped a second too early.

  “Too noisy,” Harun muttered. “Too proud.”

  He stepped in, palm glowing, and struck the attacker’s chest—crushing him into the rock wall hard enough to crack it in three pces.

  Kael, watching from the shadows, felt the shockwave rattle through his bones.

  The next one moved like a living ndslide, carrying a massive give carved with weight-enhancing runes. The floor cracked with each step he took—gravity bent around him.

  Harun didn’t yield.

  He charged forward, twisting mid-air, spine igniting with white-hot runes. He struck from above with a downward kick—a seismic crack rang out as the attacker’s legs buckled and his weapon splintered.

  “Strength without control,” Harun spat. “You're just rock waiting to be broken.”

  The following two came in together.

  One twisted gravity to rotate the battlefield mid-fight, turning walls into floors. The other moved like a reflection in broken gss, surrounding Harun with perfect copies.

  Kael gasped as his body tilted sideways, smming against stone. Even hidden, the pressure threatened to colpse his lungs.

  Harun slid low, rune chains whipping from his sleeves. He hooked two of the mirrored figures, yanked them into one another—shattering the illusion—then pivoted and struck the gravity wielder with a fsh of light from his palm, bending space back into pce.

  “You confuse chaos with strategy,” he growled. “Learn to fight your own reflection first.”

  And then came her.

  The leader.

  She drew her bde slowly. Light died around its edge. Sound seemed to retreat from her steps.

  No movement. No aura. Only annihition.

  Kael could not move. His breath caught. His instincts screamed to run.

  Harun faced her alone.

  “You’re not here to kill,” he said. “You’re here to erase.”

  She nodded. “You know what must be done.”

  “I know what I must leave behind.”

  He pressed his hand to the ground—his runes glowed brighter than ever.

  “Kael!” he roared, voice thundering through the cavern. “You watching, boy?! You listening?!”

  “I’m not fighting for gods. I’m not dying for glory. I’m carving a path!”

  The leader vanished.

  Harun vanished a beat ter.

  Their csh tore through the cavern like divine judgment. Stone shattered. Light bent. Kael felt it like a god's heartbeat hammering in his chest.

  Then—

  Silence.

  The dust settled.

  The elite woman y slumped, unconscious but breathing.

  Harun stood still… then slowly dropped to one knee.

  His back glowed faintly—his runes cracking, as if they too were ready to fade.

  He turned toward the shadows—toward Kael.

  And smiled.

  "Now run boy"

  Kael did not cry.

  Not yet.

  He ran.

  And as he ran, he remembered.

  The step-dancer. The living boulder. The shifting twins. The bde of silence.

  They didn’t know him.

  But he knew them now.

  And when the time came—

  He would be their requiem.