The spear pierced through Ren's chest with a violent crunch, blood spurting out across the ground. Commander Elric, panting and wide-eyed, snarled through clenched teeth, "You're dead now."
Ren stumbled back slightly, then froze.
"Am I?" he whispered.
A horrifying crack echoed as Ren grabbed the spear shaft with both hands—and snapped it in two. The broken end slid out of his body, and before the commander could even process it, the torn flesh began to seal, threads of muscle and skin stitching together unnaturally fast.
Elric stumbled back in disbelief, his voice trembling, "H-How is this possible? Just what are you...? What did I do to deserve this? What did my family do to you?" His sword dropped slightly as despair overtook him. His legs trembled.
Ren stepped closer, eyes glowing with a cold fury. "Commander... I never had a personal grudge against you. Even after I came back from the dead, even after you all betrayed me—I didn't come for you... until I remembered what you did to those twin girls."
Elric's face paled.
Ren's voice dropped to a growl. "They were just innocent girls at an inn. You and your knights—assaulted them. Killed everyone who tried to protect them. That was the only reason I came here. You shouldn't have done it."
Ren stepped closer and asked in a low, deadly voice, "Why? Why did you do it? Why did the kingdom forget me? Why was I erased from history?"
Elric dropped to his knees, shaking his head, "It wasn't me... I didn't know. I swear on the gods, I was just following orders. It was the Church of Light. They summoned you. They ordered your name erased. Anyone who spoke of the Hero was executed. Only those at the inn opposed the order. The Church commanded their removal. We... we carried out their will. I only followed orders."
Silence. Ren's expression didn't soften—but his eyes flickered. He knew the commander was telling the truth.
A flash of memory cut through the tension:
Back then...
Young Ren, bloodied and exhausted, stood in the training yard. The holy knights—smirking, towering men—circled him.
"You're healing, right? Let's see how long that lasts."
They beat him relentlessly. Cut him. Broke him. Mocked him. Even the commander watched from a distance, arms folded, unmoved. They treated him like a toy—never a hero. And he took it, every blow, every bruise. All he ever wanted was to finish his mission and go home.
Not anymore.
Back in the present, Ren looked into Elric's tearful eyes.
"That's not enough."
In one swift movement, Ren vanished. A flash of silver, a scream, and then—silence.
The commander's head tumbled to the ground. His body followed a moment later.
Ren stood still, breathing deeply. Blood stained his boots. He bent down, picked up the head by the hair, and stared at the wide-eyed expression frozen in death.
The other knights arrived.
"Commander! Commander, we're here!"
They stopped short.
They saw Ren standing alone, holding the severed head of their leader.
Fear gripped them.
"You monster!" one shouted. "We'll avenge our commander!"
Ren didn't move. "Then help me deliver a message."
He raised the head slightly. "Tell your commander in hell... his vice-captain is next."
They screamed and charged.
Ren dropped the commander's head, picked up his sword from the dirt—and raised it.
Scene Change: The Holy Temple of Light – Saint Rika's Chambers
The moonlight filtered through sheer curtains as Saint Rika sat by her desk, brushing her hair in silence. A knock echoed.
"My lady, a package arrived for you."
"At this hour?" she murmured.
She rose and took the box, dismissing the servant with a nod. As the door shut, Rika eyed the parcel.
Elegant. Untouched. No sender.
She unlatched it slowly.
The scent of blood hit her first.
She gasped, stumbling back. Inside—
The severed head of Commander Elric stared back at her, eyes lifeless, mouth agape in horror.
A folded parchment rested beneath the head. With trembling hands, Rika unfolded it.
You're next.
Her eyes widened.
Her knees buckled.
Terror gripped her heart like a vice.