A heavy stillness hung in the air. Townsfolk stood in awe, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the Saint and her shining escort. Reika moved gracefully, her long white robe glistening under the soft sunlight. Her holy knight commander stood beside her, tall and broad-shouldered, clad in gleaming silver armor. The people whispered blessings and praises as she passed.
But Ren... he stood frozen.
"Reika..." he whispered, his voice low, almost mournful.
In that instant, a sharp, invisible pressure exploded outward from where he stood. Bloodlust. It swept through the street like a phantom gale, striking Reika with such force that her legs buckled beneath her. Gasps erupted as she fell to her knees, her hand clutching her chest.
"Reika-sama!" the knight commander shouted, kneeling beside her.
Reika's eyes darted wildly, scanning the crowd, lips trembling. She didn't know where the killing intent came from—only that it felt familiar.
Her body trembled. The sensation... it coiled around her spine like a serpent. Cold. Ancient. Wrathful.
"He's here..." she whispered to the commander. "He's watching us."
"Who? Who is?" the knight asked, confused and on alert.
But she didn't answer. With a wave of her hand, she ordered their retreat.
Ren didn't move. He simply watched. The hatred in his heart boiled, but he remained still. It wasn't the time. Not yet.
For two days, he scoured the town, demanding answers about the old inn. The cheerful little place run by two twin sisters with soft smiles and warm hands. They had treated him like a brother. Not a hero. Just... Ren.
But every inquiry was met with silence. People turned their backs. Some even denied the inn ever existed.
He finally found a man—old, twitchy, avoiding his gaze when the name of the inn was mentioned.
Ren followed him into an alley.
"You know something," he said.
"I-I don't know anything!"
Ren's eyes glowed faintly, his tone icy. "Wrong answer."
The man tried to run. Ren caught him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. The air grew heavy with malice.
Minutes later, the man was on his knees, sobbing.
"T-The knight commander said they were housing demons... said they were a threat... But it wasn't true. He... he just... he wanted them. He and the other knights..."
Ren stared down at him, his voice low.
"And the others?"
"All hanged. The twins were... taken first. They cried. They begged. He laughed. Then he killed them too. Said it was 'cleansing for the Saint.' Said no one would care."
Silence.
Then a crunch.
The man dropped, neck twisted.
Ren reached down, intending to move the body. The moment his fingers touched flesh, a searing jolt ran through his arm.
Flashes.
A memory not his own.
The man's fear. The night of the raid. Screams. Smoke. The twins crying for mercy as the commander dragged them into the dark. The sight of their lifeless bodies hanging by the signpost. Laughter from silver-armored monsters.
Ren staggered backward, panting.
"What... was that?"
He looked at his hand.
The artifact. The demonic relic. It had done something to him.
That night, under the cover of darkness, Ren stood at the site where the inn once stood. Weeds pushed up through the cracks of forgotten stone. Only ashes and faint echoes remained.
He knelt and pressed his palm to the earth.
The world twisted.
He was there again. The inn, whole and alive. The sisters laughing, serving food. Then the door burst open. Knights stormed in. The commander shouted lies.
The girls screamed. Begged. Their faces twisted in horror. The commander grinned as he...
Ren ripped his hand back.
His breath was ragged.
"I will remember your faces," he whispered. "And I will avenge you."
Later that week, another knight disappeared.
Bound and gagged, he writhed before Ren.
Ren stared into his eyes. Then touched his forehead.
The knight's life unfolded in seconds.
Among the memories was something new.
The commander had a wife. And a young daughter. Hidden in the capital.
Ren's lips curled slowly into a smile.
"Now we're getting personal."