Halochassis

Shin stood at the balcony of the Librarium, his hands resting against the cold stone railing as he stared down at the evening lights of Luminous City. From this height, the city looked almost peaceful. Hundreds of lamps illuminated the streets below, their warm glow spilling across the crowded roads and narrow alleys. The distant sounds of merchants closing their stalls, carriages moving through the streets, and people talking carried faintly through the cool evening air. A gentle breeze brushed against Shin’s black hair and carried the lingering smell of smoke, food, and damp stone from the city below. It had already been an hour since his work had ended, yet he still could not bring himself to return home. He had no reason to remain at the Librarium anymore, but something inside him kept telling him to stay a little longer, as though leaving would force him to confront thoughts he was not ready to face.

“I wonder where Risha is,” Shin mumbled.

His voice was barely louder than the wind. He stared at the distant streets, wondering if she was somewhere among those countless lights. It had been a long time since he had last seen Risha. A week or two, perhaps. He had lost track of the exact number of days, but the absence was difficult to ignore. Risha had always been around, whether she was working at Iron Haven, teasing him, chatting with Adzeel, or simply appearing whenever trouble was about to begin. Now, there was only silence where her presence used to be.

Shin remembered how Risha had run away after discovering that Aether and he no longer had any interest in continuing the Iron Bandits’ legacy. Aether’s reasoning could be understood. His objective had already been completed, and continuing to fight would only increase the chances of losing everything he still had. The enemies had become stronger, the risks had become greater, and the Halochassis were attracting attention that none of them could afford. For Aether, walking away was the sensible choice. There was no point in throwing his remaining life away for a cause that had already consumed enough of it.

But Shin was different. He had joined the Iron Bandits for one reason. Revenge. His entire journey had been built around his hatred for Qinglong, the man responsible for destroying his old life and killing his best friend. For years, that hatred had burned inside him like an ember that refused to die, giving him a reason to keep moving even when everything else had been taken away. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, Shin had already gotten his revenge. He had killed Qinglong’s girlfriend in cold blood, taking a life because of the pain Qinglong had caused him.

Qinglong had also asked for forgiveness. It had not been easy for Shin to listen to his apology, and some part of him still wanted to reject it. However, if Shin was being honest with himself, he knew that he was eventually going to accept it. He could forgive Qinglong and finally put the past behind him. The thought felt strangely frightening because revenge had been such a large part of his identity for so long. Without it, Shin was not entirely sure what remained. Still, Lireina would be happy if he finally chose to let go. She had always wanted him to stop carrying that hatred around like a burden chained to his back.

“Maybe I’ll do it for Lireina,” Shin said quietly as he leaned against the railing. His eyes softened as he imagined her face. “...and for our future.”

The thought brought a faint smile to his lips. Their future. Those two words felt almost foreign to him. He had never allowed himself to imagine something beyond revenge. Now, however, there was someone waiting for him. Someone he loved. Someone who wanted to build a life with him rather than watch him destroy himself for the sake of an old grudge.

That was right. Shin’s purpose of revenge ended with Qinglong. He had never been a cold-blooded killer to begin with. Not before his best friend was killed. Before that tragedy, Shin had simply been a mana-less commoner who spent his days studying, working, and trying to survive in a world where people like him were easily overlooked. He had never dreamed of becoming a murderer or a bandit. He had never imagined that his hands would one day be stained with blood.

Or was that really true?

A vague memory suddenly flashed through his mind.

A church.

The image came without warning, sharp enough to make his chest tighten. He saw a floor covered in blood, dark red stains spreading across the stone beneath his feet. He could almost smell the metallic scent in the air. His fingers remembered the weight of something cold and heavy. A pistol. He remembered gripping the weapon tightly, his knuckles pale from the pressure. Then came the image of a man wearing a priest’s robe lying motionless on the floor, his body surrounded by blood that had poured from his wounds.

Shin’s breathing became heavier.

He immediately shook his head, as though he could physically throw the memory out of his mind.

“No, no, no.” His voice trembled slightly. “I have to move on. It’s for our future.”

He slapped his own face, the sharp sting against his cheek bringing him back to the present. The sound echoed faintly against the stone walls of the balcony. Shin rubbed his cheek and took a slow breath, forcing himself to concentrate on the cool night air rather than the disturbing fragments of memory that had surfaced. He could not keep looking backward. He had already lost too much because of the past.

That’s it. I will settle it once and for all. I will tell Lena that I will forgive Qinglong.

Shin smiled. For the first time that evening, the decision felt certain. He imagined Lireina’s reaction when he told her. She would probably be surprised at first, then smile in that gentle way she always did whenever he made a choice that brought him closer to a normal life. Maybe this was the beginning of something new. Maybe he could finally stop being Shin Rebellium, the man who existed solely to destroy Qinglong, and simply become Shin, a man who wanted to live.

He pushed himself away from the balcony railing and was about to return inside the Librarium to clock out when something suddenly landed beside him.

A raven.

Its claws clicked against the stone as it settled on the railing. Its black feathers shifted in the evening breeze, glossy beneath the nearby lantern light. The bird stared directly at Shin with unsettling intelligence. A small piece of paper had been attached to its leg.

Shin immediately became cautious.

He carefully approached the bird and removed the message. The raven did not resist. It merely tilted its head and watched him with its dark eyes as Shin unfolded the paper.

He read the words.

Go to the Western Manor in the outskirts of the city. Your precious comrade is waiting for you there, Azazel.

At that moment, Shin froze.

His fingers tightened around the paper.

Comrade?

His mind immediately went to the same person.

It must be Adzeel.

The pleasant warmth that had filled his chest only moments ago disappeared. Shin stared at the message again, his expression becoming serious as his thoughts began racing. There was no reason for someone to summon him using the name Azazel unless they knew something they should not. The name was connected to a secret that could not be allowed to escape.

Shin’s first thought was that it was an obvious trap. There was a high probability that Adzeel had betrayed them. Perhaps he had already been captured, interrogated, or forced to reveal everything he knew. Alexander could be hunting the last remnants of the Iron Bandits, searching for their remaining Halochassis before they disappeared completely. If Adzeel had given them Shin’s location, then the Western Manor might already be surrounded.

Yet another possibility troubled him even more.

Adzeel might not have betrayed them because he was forced to.

He might have betrayed them because he knew they were planning to quit.

If Adzeel had discovered that Shin and Aether were no longer willing to continue the Iron Bandits’ legacy, perhaps he had decided that they had become liabilities. Maybe he had concluded that Shin could no longer be trusted with Azazel Halochassis. Maybe this entire situation had been carefully arranged to draw him away from the safety of the Librarium.

Either way, Shin could not deny the obvious.

It was a trap.

The sensible decision would have been to ignore the message. He could burn the paper, return home, and pretend that he had never seen it. Yet there was one problem. The fact that this message had reached him meant that someone already knew enough to threaten everything he had built. They knew Azazel was Shin. They knew about his connection to the Iron Bandits. They knew enough to call him a comrade.

And if that secret became widespread...

Shin’s stomach tightened.

If the truth reached Lireina, then his entire life could collapse.

His future with her could disappear in an instant.

He could already imagine the look on her face if she discovered that the man she loved was secretly connected to the Halochassis and the Iron Bandits. Worse, she might discover everything else. The blood. The murders. The revenge. The lies he had told to protect the life they were trying to build together.

Shin could not allow that to happen.

He had no choice but to confront whoever had sent the letter.

His eyes hardened as he crumpled the piece of paper in his fist. He glanced around the balcony one final time, making certain that nobody was watching him. Then, without hesitation, he put the crumpled message into his mouth and swallowed it. The paper was dry and unpleasant against his tongue, and the bitter taste lingered in his mouth as he forced it down. It was crude, but it ensured there would be no physical evidence left behind.

The raven watched him silently.

Shin reached for his jacket and pulled it over his shoulders. The fabric felt heavier than usual as he adjusted it and stepped away from the balcony. The warm lights of the Librarium faded behind him as he walked through the quiet halls, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

Outside, the night had fully settled over Luminous City.

The streets were still alive, but the crowds had thinned. Lanterns illuminated patches of the road while the spaces between them disappeared into darkness. The cool air brushed against Shin’s face as he stepped outside, carrying the distant smell of cooking fires and rain-soaked stone. He looked toward the outskirts of the city, where the Western Manor waited somewhere beyond the familiar streets.

He knew he was walking directly into an obvious trap.

But Shin had already made his decision.

If someone had discovered the truth about Azazel, then he had to deal with the threat before it reached Lireina.

Without looking back, Shin walked into the darkness and headed toward the Western Manor.

Shin had to hire a carriage to take him to the Western Manor, which stood far beyond the outskirts of Luminous City. The journey took longer than he had expected, and the farther they traveled from the city center, the fewer lights they saw along the road. The lively streets gradually gave way to empty pathways bordered by overgrown grass and crooked trees. The cheerful noise of merchants and pedestrians faded into the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels, accompanied by the occasional creaking of its wooden frame. Through the window, Shin watched the familiar glow of civilization disappear behind him until only the moon and scattered stars illuminated the countryside. When the carriage finally stopped, he stepped outside and found himself standing before the Western Manor. Even from a distance, the mansion looked terrifying. Its tall, weathered walls were covered in creeping vines, while its narrow windows resembled hollow eyes staring into the darkness. The roof sagged in several places, and the wooden shutters hung crookedly from their hinges. Under the pale moonlight, the entire building looked less like an abandoned residence and more like a tomb waiting for someone to enter.

Shin had heard plenty of ghost stories about the Western Manor. According to the rumors, the place had been abandoned after a series of mysterious deaths, and anyone who wandered inside after sunset would hear strange voices calling their names. Some claimed to have seen pale figures standing behind the windows, while others insisted that the sound of footsteps followed them even when they were alone. Of course, ghosts were not particularly unusual in this world. They were considered monsters, just like the other supernatural creatures that roamed the land, and adventurers regularly hunted them down for rewards. Nevertheless, knowing that ghosts could be killed did little to make the manor less frightening. There was something unsettling about a place where even the wind seemed reluctant to blow. Shin adjusted his jacket and glanced at the dark entrance, feeling the cool night air crawl beneath his collar. He had faced dangerous opponents before, but the silence surrounding the mansion made his skin prickle with unease.

The manor grounds were strangely quiet. There were no insects chirping in the grass, no birds rustling among the trees, and no distant sounds of animals moving through the undergrowth. Even Shin’s footsteps seemed unnaturally loud as he walked along the stone pathway leading to the entrance. His boots scraped against the uneven stones, disturbing the thin layer of dust and fallen leaves that had accumulated over the years. A faint smell of damp wood and decaying vegetation hung in the air, growing stronger as he approached the mansion. The temperature also seemed to drop the closer he came to the entrance, and he found himself rubbing his arms as goosebumps spread across his skin. He tried to convince himself that his discomfort was nothing more than a natural reaction to the surroundings. After all, he had come here expecting a trap. Compared to the possibility of facing Alexander or losing the Halochassis, a few ghost stories should have been the least of his concerns. Yet, despite his attempts to remain calm, his instincts continued to warn him that something was terribly wrong.

Eventually, Shin reached the manor’s entrance, where an old wooden door stood between him and the darkness within. Its surface was covered in scratches and patches of peeling paint, while the metal hinges had turned reddish brown with rust. He placed his hand against the rough wood and pushed, but the door barely moved. Shin frowned and leaned his weight against it, feeling the muscles in his arms tense as he forced the stubborn entrance inward. With a long, agonizing creak, the door finally swung open, sending a cloud of dust into the air. The smell of stale air, rotting wood, and something faintly metallic escaped from the interior. Shin stepped across the threshold, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, and what he saw inside immediately caught him off guard. The entrance opened into a spacious hall with cracked tiles, battered furniture, and faded curtains hanging from the walls. Moonlight streamed through the broken windows, casting long, crooked shadows across the floor. At the center of the hall, beneath a patch of silver light, sat a lone woman bound tightly to a wooden chair.

She had been tied around the arms and torso, with a gag stuffed into her mouth and a blindfold covering her eyes. Her head hung forward, and her shoulders trembled as she struggled against the ropes. Blood stained the dress she wore, spreading across the fabric in ugly, dark patches. Shin immediately recognized it. It was the dress Lireina had given her during their shopping trip, a gift that had once been a source of teasing and laughter. He remembered how Risha had reacted when she first received it, pretending to complain about the color before eventually accepting it with a smile. Now, that same dress was torn and soaked with blood, its once beautiful fabric ruined by the violence inflicted upon its wearer. The sight struck Shin harder than he had expected. For a brief moment, he could barely breathe, and the oppressive silence of the manor seemed to press against his eardrums. The moonlight illuminated Risha’s pale face beneath the blindfold, making her look like a helpless figure in some cruel theatrical performance. His heart began pounding violently against his chest as dread and anger surged through him.

“Risha!” Shin shouted, his voice echoing throughout the enormous hall.

The moment she heard him, Risha jerked upright in her chair. She desperately shook her head, struggling against the ropes until the wooden legs scraped across the tiles. A muffled cry escaped from behind her gag as she twisted her body toward the sound of his voice.

“Mmmph! Mmmmmmph!”

She shook her head more violently, her movements becoming frantic as she tried to warn him. Even without seeing her expression, Shin understood what she was trying to communicate. She was telling him not to approach her. She wanted him to run away before it was too late. The warning only made Shin’s stomach tighten, but he could not bring himself to abandon her. He had already spent days wondering where she was and whether she was safe. Now that he had finally found her, he could not simply turn around and leave her tied to a chair in a bloodstained dress. He knew that someone had deliberately brought him here, and the arrangement was far too suspicious to be anything other than a trap. Nevertheless, the sight of Risha struggling helplessly before him overwhelmed his caution. He clenched his teeth and rushed toward her, determined to reach her before whoever had arranged this could do anything worse.

Shin had barely taken a few steps when a sharp gust tore through the hall. Something invisible sliced through the air with a piercing swish, passing directly in front of his feet before striking the floor. A thin line appeared across the old tiles, dividing them with unnerving precision. Dust rose from the cut, and tiny fragments of stone scattered across the ground. Shin stopped immediately, his forward momentum carrying him a fraction of a step before he regained his balance. He stared at the freshly carved line, realizing that another step might have cost him his legs. The attack had come so quickly that he had barely seen anything, much less reacted to it. Whoever had launched that air slash possessed extraordinary control over their power. Shin slowly raised his head, his expression hardening as he searched the shadows for the attacker. Risha continued to struggle behind him, her muffled cries growing more desperate, but Shin knew that rushing forward again without understanding his opponent’s position would accomplish nothing.

“I thought you would never come, Shin Rebellium... or, more accurately... Azazel.”

The voice echoed through the manor, calm and unmistakably familiar. Its owner spoke with the confidence of someone who had already anticipated every move Shin might make. A moment later, the silence was broken by the heavy clanking of steel boots against the tiled floor. Each step rang through the hall, slow and deliberate, accompanied by the dull tapping of a spear’s butt against the ground. The metallic sounds grew louder as the mysterious figure approached, revealing that the speaker was armed and had no intention of hiding his presence any longer. Shin recognized the voice immediately. His fingers tightened around the Halochassis glove, the familiar sensation of its hard surface pressing against his palm. Whatever fear he had felt upon entering the manor was quickly replaced by a cold, focused determination. He had suspected that this meeting would end in a confrontation, and now there was no reason to pretend otherwise. Shin shifted his stance, keeping his eyes fixed on the approaching silhouette while preparing to summon Azazel at the slightest sign of an attack.

The figure finally stepped into the moonlight streaming through the broken windows. The pale glow revealed his armor, his weapon, and the familiar features of a man Shin had every reason to distrust. There was no surprise in Shin’s eyes, only a grim acknowledgment that his suspicions had been correct. The person who had arranged this meeting was none other than Qinglong, the Ultimate Dragon Warrior.