Shameless One

Vito Fool sprinted across the barren plains, his body soaked with sweat, his breath ragged and shallow. Despite the overwhelming exhaustion weighing on his limbs, he pushed forward, his legs moving in desperate, uncoordinated strides. His eyes, wide with both determination and dread, glimmered with a singular purpose. Every time the urge to collapse, to surrender to the unrelenting fatigue surged within him, memories flooded his mind—the horrors he'd witnessed in the Cult of Luca Azoria, the hellish destruction he saw on the borders of Lordrixis, and the faces of those he cherished, both past and present. In those fleeting moments of clarity, he silently swore never to stop.

Vito had died more times than he cared to count, his body ravaged by overexertion, but his immortality refused to relinquish him.

He needed to reach a city that still stood, one that hadn't been reduced to rubble, to send a letter to the capital. Failure to do so would bring consequences too dire to contemplate.

In the distance, a figure emerged, standing alone against the horizon. Vito's eyes struggled to focus, his body too fatigued to process the details. He pushed onward, inching closer until, at last, he passed the figure.

"Wait!" The voice called out, youthful, unfamiliar, and strangely innocent. Though Vito's instincts screamed at him to keep running, something within him urged him to stop.

Against all reason, he staggered to a halt. It was a poor decision—his body collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as darkness crept in. He should have died again, but for once more, death rejected him.

The boy approached, kneeling beside him. His hand gently rested on Vito's shoulder, offering a calm reassurance.

"Don't worry," the boy said, his voice smooth yet laced with an undercurrent of finality. "The message has already been sent. You don't need to run anymore."

Vito, struggling to turn his head, looked into the boy's eyes. Despite his youth, there was a depth in them that spoke of untold stories, and it made Vito question the reality of this encounter.

"How…?" he rasped, barely able to form the words.

"You are Shun's friend, aren't you?" The boy continued without answering. "And the possessor of Immortality Beyond."

Vito nodded, his mind clouded with confusion.

"Rest now," the boy said. "Prepare yourself for the coming war. This trial will not be easy. In truth, Lordrixis is already lost." His voice remained steady, as cold as stone. "But perhaps that's not such a bad thing. When others' hopes dim, ours become brighter."

"Who is… 'ours'?"

"Shun and everyone by his side."

Vito's confusion deepened, as though his grasp on reality was slipping.

"I've already delivered the message to Alfred Eldran," the boy continued, his tone tinged with quiet contempt. "It's better that more people live. If Lordrixis falls, at least it will inflict significant damage on Antonio Valdis's forces." The mention of Antonio Valdis seemed to stir something darker in the boy's voice.

Vito gathered his remaining strength to ask, "Who… are you?"

The boy stood, his silhouette casting a long shadow over Vito's fading vision. His final words hung in the air, echoing across the plains.

"My name is Kylainn Esmira, leader of the Belkarn Clan Shadows."

...

Vesanze Fortune stood beneath the ink-black sky, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. With a soft sigh, she lit the torch in her hand and set fire to White Crane Manor. The flames bloomed, consuming the manor in an orange-red inferno.

Behind her, a small group of figures stood, each wearing a unique bird-shaped mask that obscured their identities. But one figure beside her was unmistakable. His presence outshone even Vesanze's graceful elegance. Dressed in a tight black suit, a long, scarlet-golden spear strapped to his back, he radiated a quiet, formidable strength.

The others, masked and motionless, watched in stunned silence as the manor burned. They had gathered here under Vesanze's orders, but none of them had anticipated this moment.

Vesanze turned to face them, her voice cutting through the air, calm yet heavy with purpose.

"As you can see, there is no turning back," she announced, her words slow and deliberate. "From this point on, we no longer have a place in Lordrixis, but that no longer matters. The coming war will annihilate this kingdom, despite the king's efforts. I have seen the enemy's strength with my own eyes. No one can save this kingdom now—no one is willing to."

A masked figure hesitated, his voice laced with doubt. "Mistress, are we truly going to abandon everything?"

Vesanze's voice was firm, unwavering. "This is your last chance. As I've always said, if any of you wish to turn back, do so now. But remember—if we seek a brighter future, we must relinquish the past. We can't afford to cling to what is no longer ours." A fleeting sorrow flickered in her eyes, though it was quickly hidden behind her impenetrable mask.

Not a single person moved. From the moment they entered White Crane Manor, they had made a pact, binding them all to this path.

"This is the first step of our grand plan," Vesanze declared. "Members of the White Crane Manor, it is our time to change the world."

"Change the world!" the crowd chorused, their fear dissipating. Each of them had their regrets, their personal losses, but none allowed those emotions to dominate. They had long anticipated this day—yet still, the weight of it was greater than any of them had imagined.

A great colossus unfolded behind Vesanze, wings unfurling in a magnificent array of colour, each feather representing a different bird. It was so vast that it blotted out the burning manor behind her.

"Let us reclaim what belongs to Mister Leo," she said, lifting herself into the air. Her wings stretched wide, and the others followed, their own wings sprouting from their backs.

Except for one.

The figure in the back remained still, an owl-shaped mask covering his face, his posture unmoving.

Vesanze sighed once more, her gaze flicking to the lone figure. "Go northeast, follow Mister Leo. I'll speak with Owl. I won't be long."

As the others took flight, they glanced back at the land they were leaving behind. Like Owl, their masks hid the pain within, the agony of leaving behind everything they had ever known, a place that they had always called home.

Vesanze landed in front of Leon Ermy. Before she could speak, Leon cut her off.

"How many people are going to die?"

Vesanze's expression remained cold. "Most of them."

"And we're going to leave them?" Leon's voice was frigid with disbelief. "Our friends, our families—are we really going to let them die?"

Vesanze's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Leon, of all people, I never expected you to say this. You didn't leave when you could have, that alone proves you've stopped caring."

"I didn't leave because I'm part of the White Crane Manor," Leon replied, his voice firm. "But I also won't abandon them because I'm a graduate of SIGMA Academy. I can't leave them to die."

Vesanze's gaze hardened. "You're still too young, Leon. I'm disappointed. Emotions and memories are our greatest enemies. You used to know this, but now you falter at the most critical moment?"

Vesanze's expression hardened, though a tremor flickered in her voice as she replied, "We can't save everyone, Leon. I know that better than anyone."

"But we can save as many as we can," Leon countered, his tone steady yet firm.

Vesanze's composure cracked, and her voice erupted with frustration. "At this moment, we can barely even save ourselves!"

Her outburst stunned Leon into silence. She stepped closer, her voice rising, filled with a blend of fury and despair.

"Friends, families, lovers—they're all replaceable! They leave us eventually, one way or another. What matters is that we move forward and find new connections to fill those voids! But for that to happen, Leon, we must survive! Clinging to the past, to people we can't save, will only trap us in despair!"

Her wings flared open, casting shifting shadows over the ground. "Look at the future instead, Leon, the future so bright it can make us forget the suffering we've endured. That's what you should be fighting for! Tell me—would you rather die alongside your friends now or live on to create a new life, and new bonds? The choice isn't difficult, is it?"

She turned sharply, her wings lifting her effortlessly into the air. "Think about it and make your decision, Leon. Don't disappoint me again."

Leon remained rooted in place, watching silently as she departed. Perhaps it was his illusions, but he saw a single tear, glimmering in the firelight, that fell to the ground in front of him.