"Did you really think it would be that easy?"Kazel's voice dropped like ice into the marrow.Cold. Certain. Final.
The assassin's pupils shrank.
(Behind me?!)But he hadn't even felt the wind shift—
CRACK. A spray of blood erupted.
Kazel's arm had pierced straight through the assassin's spine and chest, his hand clutching a still-beating heart.
He held it up for all to see.It pulsed once.Twice.Then stopped.
The corpse slumped like meat, and Kazel tossed it aside like garbage.
His chest rose slowly. Rain traced the muscles carved into his frame. His eyes—sharp and brutal—turned toward the only soul left standing:
Agabah.
The man who orchestrated it all.The one with the stupid, curled mustache—Who thought he could move mountains through whispers and poison.Who thought titles and birth gave him power.
Kazel began walking.Each step crushed broken tiles, each movement deliberate.
Agabah stumbled backward, lips trembling.
"No, no, no…"
Kazel's halberd dragged along the ground, sparking, like the last breath before judgment.
And now, there would be no words.Only consequences.
Agabah stumbled back, lips trembling. His knees knocked together. All courage drained from his face as the blood on the ground seemed to grow heavier with each of Kazel's steps.
The halberd scraped behind him, leaving a line of shallow destruction with every dragging pull.Each footstep echoed. Not a god, not a monster—just a man. But somehow, that made it worse.
Yasha's petal slipped from her lips.It fell quietly onto her thigh, and she didn't even notice.
She leaned forward in her saddle, pupils tight, voice low.
"…I've seen monsters. But that man is something else entirely."
Elder Juni's bow hung loose.Her brows were tight, her mouth slightly open as she watched Kazel walk past the corpse of Maldan, toward the final heir.
"I came to see a massacre," she said, more to herself than anyone else."…but this… this feels like fate catching up to someone."
The twin black knights of the Shield and Spear said nothing.But one's throat bobbed in a hard swallow. The other's hand shifted on his sword hilt, not to draw it—but just to remember it was there.
"…We don't know who he is," one of them murmured.
"But we know what he is," said the other. "And that's enough."
From the path below, Saya and Nobu arrived, halting their horses at the edge of the ruined square.
Saya stared hard, her eyes narrowing.
"…He said he was sickly."
Nobu shook his head slowly. "That's no beginner. That's no disciple."
The boy said nothing more—his hand drifted unconsciously to his own weapon, not out of fear, but respect.
And there stood Kazel, halberd rising slowly. His eyes never blinked. Never looked away.
Agabah couldn't breathe.His lips parted, but no sound came out.
He had played politics. He had bribed elders. He had whispered poison and plotted from shadows.
But he had never seen justice this close.
Kazel's voice was like iron breaking the silence:
"You ruined a life I hadn't even started living."
"You hid behind fathers, sects, and titles."
"Now hide behind your gods."
The halberd gleamed in the morning light.
"They won't help."
Agabah's voice trembled, but the words came sharp:
"Y-You… You think this is the end? You think killing me means anything?"
Kazel kept walking, silent.
"The Second Moon Sect isn't just here. We're supported by a power from the land above. Someone your sect—your entire province—wouldn't dare offend."
That made Kazel stop.
His boots halted just short of Agabah's bloodstained feet.
The square held its breath.
Kazel's eyes didn't go to Agabah. No, he turned his head slowly—to the spectators:
First to Yasha, who chewed slowly… but didn't shake her head.
Then to Juni, who only furrowed her brows, eyes unreadable.
Then to the twin black knights, stoic and silent, their armor catching the light, but not their mouths denying it.
Even Saya and Nobu had the faintest glimmer of pause.
No one said a word.
And to Agabah, that silence was golden.A moment of hesitation.A flicker of consideration.
(There… right there. That's my chance. He's hesitating…)
His smile returned—small, shaking, but a smile nonetheless.
But Kazel, ah, Kazel—
He threw his head back…
And laughed.
Laughed like a man above consequence.Laughed like a king among sheep.Laughed like someone who had been here before.
"So what you're telling me…""...is that when a land is filthy enough, the heavens send garbage to rule over it?"
His halberd lifted again.
"If this 'higher power' backed you…""...then they should've taught you to beg better."
He stepped forward. The last step.
Agabah's eyes widened. "W-Wait! Wait—"
"No more waiting," Kazel said, voice suddenly cold. "You lived on stolen time. I'm just here to collect."
Agabah's eyes burned with madness.
"DIEEEEEE!!"
With the last roar of a cornered beast, he lunged—shoulders lowered, arms out, aiming to tackle Kazel to the ground.
It was a wild, reckless charge. No technique. No grace.Only desperation.
Kazel didn't flinch. His expression didn't change.
Time seemed to stretch.
Then—
CRACK.
With a step like a hammer blow, Kazel spun his halberd sideways——not to slice.
To bat him.
Agabah's body was flung sideways like a sack of meat, spinning midair before slamming into the shattered stone tiles.
Coughing. Twitching. Blood pooling.
But he wasn't dead.
He lifted his head, barely.
And Kazel was already there.
He raised the halberd—not with rage, but with finality.
The shadow of the blade fell over Agabah's face.
Agabah's lips quivered, but he could say no more.
SHUNK.
The halberd fell. And with it, silence returned to the ruins of the Second Moon Sect.
Only Kazel stood.
The blood-soaked tyrant no one yet knew was a tyrant.
With a grunt, Kazel thrust his halberd into the earth.
The blade bit deep into the shattered courtyard, and a tremor rumbled through the ground.Stone cracked. Dust rose.Above him, the sign of the Second Moon Sect—once proud, once untouchable—splintered from its gate and fell, crumbling in disgrace beside the corpses of its masters.
Kazel said nothing.
He walked forward, slowly, deliberately, and sat on the broken steps that once led to the sect's grand hall.
He didn't wipe the blood from his arms.He didn't sheath his weapon.He simply sat—like a monarch after a campaign. Like a conqueror surveying the ashes of what opposed him.
Around him, the bystanders—Elder Juni, Yasha, the black twin knights, Saya, and Nobu—watched in silence.None dared to approach.None dared to speak.
He had moved the world.
And now the world watched—silent and shaken—as if fate itself had stamped a seal on this moment.
"Sect Slayer."
A title not claimed… but earned.
And in the hearts of those who witnessed it, the name Kazel took root—Not as a rumor.Not as a whisper.But as an omen.
Then, his voice bellowed like thunder—deep, raw, absolute.
"If any of you see this as your chance to end me, then take it. Now."
The words ripped through the silence, and the wind itself seemed to halt.The bystanders—all powerful in their own right—glanced at one another, uncertainty in their eyes.
Of course, this was the moment. His robe was in tatters, his body marred.If they moved as one, perhaps—perhaps—they could bring him down.
But they all knew: the price would be high.
And then—one man stepped forward.
Nobu.
Saya's eyes widened.
"Master…" she whispered.
But Nobu's sword remained sheathed. His steps were calm. He approached Kazel—who stood atop blood and ruin like a sovereign atop his conquered realm—and without a word, bowed with his hands clasped in respect.
"Congratulations, young master."
A beat.
Then, the twin black knights followed suit.Their voices echoed as one:
"Congratulations, young master."
Elder Juni hesitated. Her brows furrowed, her breath uneasy. But in the end, she stepped forward and bowed.
"Congratulations, Kazel."
And finally, Yasha grinned, petal still between her lips.
"You just created a whole mess—for us, and for yourself...""But for now—congratulations."
Kazel looked down at the five of them, bowed in acknowledgment before him.
He smirked.