"I got no idear what y'er talkin' 'bout, lady." The shopkeeper muttered, puffing a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, letting it drift lazily into Yuna's face. He didn't even look up, his back hunched as he slouched in a rickety chair behind the counter. "If y'er ain't here to buy, better skadaddle." He flicked the cigarette toward her, the ember burning briefly before it hit the ground near her feet.
Yuna's eyes narrowed, her nostrils flaring. "Why you little—!" She started forward, hands balled into fists, ready to go off.
Kairo's eyes widened, his hand flying to her arm, trying to hold her back. "Deep breaths, Yuna! Deep breaths!" He grunted, struggling to keep her from lunging.
But Yuna, caught in a fit of pure frustration, jerked away from his grip. Her eyes were burning, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Renji stepped in, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to her rage. He moved with precise intent, lifting his leg and striking the backside of her knee. Yuna lost her balance with a grunt, collapsing to one leg, her glare searing.
"What the hell?!" Yuna snapped, glaring up at him, eyes blazing with fury.
Renji didn't flinch. "We don't need to cause more trouble than we already have." He said flatly, not even breaking a sweat. As she stood up, rubbing her robe where it had scraped against the cobblestones, Renji extended a hand toward her. "Let's get out of here before you torch the whole district."
Yuna rolled her eyes but grabbed his hand anyway, her face still red with indignation. "You're such a buzzkill, Renji," she muttered, but her words were a bit less venomous now.
Kairo exhaled sharply, clearly relieved that the situation didn't escalate further. He patted Renji on the back, though Renji didn't seem to notice, his focus still lingering on the shopkeeper. "You're a real lifesaver, man. Sometimes, I think you're the only one who can keep her from burning everything to the ground."
Renji just shrugged, his expression stoic. "Someone has to."
As the three turned to leave, Kairo glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flicking back to the shopkeeper. "Not sure what kind of place you're runnin', old man," he muttered, the words just loud enough for the shopkeeper to hear. The shopkeeper didn't respond, but his eyes followed them with the faintest trace of amusement—if amusement was the right word for it.
The trio made their way to a crooked bench nestled beneath a crumbling lamp post, the rusted metal humming faintly with leftover arcane energy. The slums grew quieter, cloaked in the soft orange haze of sunset.
Renji sat first, exhaling through his nose as he watched the sky bleed from crimson into indigo. The sting from the statue still lingered on his skin, a dull pulse under the surface—but he wore his poker face well.
Kairo dropped beside him with a huff, rolling his shoulder. Restraining Yuna had drained more energy than he expected. The hostility from the shopkeepers still gnawed at him—none of them even pretended to be polite. Something about it felt... wrong. Manufactured.
Yuna flopped down last, arms crossed, foot tapping aggressively. Her expression hadn't shifted since the last shouting match. Still simmering.
Renji clasped his hands together. "We should recap what we've got so far," he said, leaning forward, elbows on knees. His voice was low, steady—tired but focused.
Kairo and Yuna nodded. "We'll go first," Kairo offered, sitting upright and trying to pull his thoughts together.
Renji shut his eyes and listened.
"Everyone we talked to either brushed us off or gave us that look—you know, like we're crazy," Kairo began, voice tinged with frustration. "Some even claimed there was never a statue in the slums to begin with."
Renji's brow twitched, but he remained silent, letting the words settle.
"Yeah," Yuna scoffed. "Bunch of asshats. Acting like they don't know what they built. Cowards."
Renji opened his eyes slowly, spine straightening with a sharp exhale. "I don't think they're pretending."
That cut through the tension like a blade. Yuna's head snapped toward him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," he replied calmly, eyes locked on the horizon where the last sliver of sunlight fought off the night. "They didn't lie. They forgot."
The silence that followed was heavy.
"There's more," he added.
Kairo's brow furrowed. "Something… else?"
Renji nodded slowly. "I didn't just ask about the statue. I asked about us."
Both Kairo and Yuna turned fully now, expressions alert.
"Us?" Yuna echoed. "Why?"
Renji shifted, the brittle bench creaking beneath him. The slats dug into his back, but he ignored it. "Because not only did they have no clue about the statue…" he paused, glancing at them. "They didn't know who it was made for."
He let the words hang.
Yuna's jaw slackened, her lips parting as if to protest, but nothing came out.
Kairo sat frozen, eyes locked onto Renji.
"So… you're saying… that…" Yuna started, her voice barely above a whisper. Suspicion flickered behind her eyes.
No. No, it can't be. Not me. Not… me. Right?
Renji gave a slow, solemn nod. "Yeah. They forgot us."
The trio entered their ramshackle shelter in silence. The door creaked behind them, closing out the dimming world.
Renji made his way to the furthest straw bed and dropped down with a soft thud. His body ached with more than fatigue. His legs were sore from walking barely a few miles—but it felt like he'd dragged the weight of the truth with each step.
Kairo collapsed onto his own bed, arms sprawled, eyes wide and glassy as he stared blankly at the ceiling. No thoughts. Just a numb, heavy fog.
Yuna lingered near the entrance, arms crossed, jaw clenched. A permanent scowl settled across her face—but behind it, doubt was growing like rot.
Renji doesn't lie. He never has. So why does it feel like he's wrong this time?
Renji glanced up, brow furrowing. The realization struck like a second punch to the gut. "Can you guys feel mana?" he asked suddenly.
Yuna closed her eyes, concentrating. Nothing. She shook her head, tight-lipped.
Kairo lifted his palms to eye level, waiting… waiting… before letting them fall limp to his sides. His silence was answer enough.
Renji exhaled slowly. "Thought so."
He extended a hand. Visualized the flow—the threads of mana coiling inside him, reaching for his fingertips. A spell he knew by heart: Pocket Dimension. A simple bend of reality. One he'd cast a thousand times before.
But this time… nothing.
No warmth. No pulse. No spark.
The world stayed firm. Unchanged. Reality didn't even flinch.
There was no mana.
No mana meant no magic.
And Renji only ever had two weapons—his mind, and his magic.
Across the room, Yuna stood still. Normally, her anger alone would've summoned a faint, seductive whisper of power—The Lust. It always slithered into the air when she lost control. But now? Nothing.
Even the silence was hollow.
Kairo turned his head slightly, blinking slowly. He felt it too. The exhaustion that clung to him like wet clothes. All that walking—and he was drained. The swordmaster who once cleaved through armies was now winded by a stroll.
The stretch of our humiliation, Kairo thought bitterly.
When does it end? I clawed my way to the top. Bit. Bled. Killed.
And now… I'm back at the bottom?
Kairo refused to believe it. That was who he was. Deep inside. Someone who couldn't let go.
He shot to his feet, looking around frantically. His eyes wide. Panicked.
Yuna looked up but didn't move. Didn't comfort. Neither did Renji.
Kairo looked down at his hands. His previous callouses were replaced by clean skin and butter smooth hands.
"This can't be. This can't be." He muttered. His eyes shot toward the door. His breathing ragged. "T-that's it… A-A sword." his voice barely above a whisper.
Renji stood up. "It's too dark out. If you go now, you'll die." He said with a tone of finality.
"I can't die!" Kairo snapped. "I'm the Sword of Envy," he choked. "I killed kings. I split mountains. I don't die—I don't disappear!"
Renji sighed. Of course Kairo cracked first. Of course he did. "Listen, Kairo–"
"No! I won't!" He cut off, already rushing toward the door.
His hand extended toward the handle, but stopped an inch short. He felt his hand, getting squeezed as if a mountain were dropped on it. But the pain didn't register.
"Let me go!" He cried, still struggling against the grip.
"No." Yuna said coldly. "I'm not letting you kill yourself."
"Let me go!" He said again, though more desperately.
Yuna didn't reply, instead maintaining her grip. Somehow, she managed to hold him in place.
Renji watched, sitting on the straw bed. His eyes glued to Kairo's pathetic, sobbing state.
Renji knew of all the sacrifices he had made to reach the top of the combat world. The sacrifices his envy had led him to make. He knew how much it weighed on him.
And to suddenly take away all that he had worked for? That was hard. Hard for anyone to process, let alone someone who depended on his strength to individualize him.
Renji walked toward Kairo. "Stop, man. Just… stop."
Kairo froze under Yuna's grip. His body trembled as the tears finally spilled, and he crumpled to his knees—like a puppet with its strings cut.
Renji looked at him one last time. No words. Just a quiet, haunted glance… before turning and laying back down on the bed of straw.
Yuna reached out—just barely—her hand hovering over Kairo's back. But she hesitated. Her fingers curled away, and she turned, laying down without a word.
The shack filled with the quiet, broken sobs of a fallen sword.
But those sobs?
They weren't just Kairo's.
They echoed with pain Renji refused to show.
With the guilt Yuna dared not name.
If Kairo hadn't cracked first, one of them would've.
Eventually, sleep claimed them.
Sometime past midnight.
A night soaked in silence, sorrow, and the cold truth of powerlessness.
And though they didn't know it yet—
That night of tears?
Would be mercy…
Compared to the ones that followed.