"All right, is everybody here?"

  A collective 'Yes sir' echoed throughout the 19 men of the platoon. They were behind a few minutes thanks to a rookie missing a pauldron, but nothing major.

  "All right then, start time at 11:47pm. Let's begin."

  And the rotting metal door blew off from the hinges.

  Before the operatives entered the district, Melton had already arrived, shoving past the metal door, making sure to close it behind him as he proceeded to enter Room 1. It was already odd enough that the granny at the counter was replaced by a much younger woman, along with the lack of people at the front of the building, but the sight before him sent an ice cold chill running down his spine. Compared to a week ago, Elisabeth looked far, far worse. But even more concerning was...

  koff, koff!

  The trickle of red running down her lips as her hoarse coughs only got her to throw up even more of her blood.

  "Elisabeth!"

  Her outstretched hand prevented Melton from approaching any closer.

  "...You really shouldn't be here right now, Melton. Though I do appreciate you visiting. I guess all you need to feel better sometimes is some good eye candy to look at..." Elisabeth's teasing never stopped despite her grainy and weak voice, flashing a weak smile as she attempted to sit down, her body wobbling as she plunked down onto her seat. Patricia's hands hovered over her body, but Elisabeth simply nudged her hand aside as she caught her breath before letting out another dry cough.

  The alarm bells began ringing in Melton's head. They would be here anytime soon.

  "Patricia. Drag her into the corner of the room.”

  The chair groaned, its legs screeching against the floor as Melton barked another ridiculous ask.

  “Are you ready to die?"

  The only other available combatant stared at Melton out of sheer bewilderment, but his stalwart, resolved expression never changed.

  Patricia donned the gauntlets by her belt.

  "... Elisabeth, you're paying me extra if we walk out of this alive."

  Then, the door to Room 1 burst open in one big blast. Standing at the forefront of the large, gaping hole in the room was Aldrich, the black of the cut resistant material and greys of the armour pads in stark contrast to the bright lights outside Room 1, his lieutenant following beside him.

  "...Now proceeding with the capture of all 3 targets."

  Dalton leapt out of the pack off the back of his own boom, the blade sweeping down, screaming as lightning ran through steel in Melton's electrified grip. Melton jabbed back, landing square on his side. A fist parted the air with a hiss, the cuffs of his shirt snapping in the air after it whiffed.

  Another explosion rang out from behind the sword ripping through from the left. Melton stared down the edge of the bastard sword between his palms, mere millimeters off drawing blood from his nose.

  "We had orders, you know? You were to be apprehended should we find you at the scene."

  Melton's hands freed the blade. Two strikes missed as the tip of the blade drew arcs that carved into the wall behind.

  "Did you know how happy I was when I saw you in this room? I finally got to make sure that I would never have to be haunted by you despite your cowardice!"

  Palms met to shoot a bolt of blue at Dalton, smiting the opposing wall. The sword rose from leg to ear, the buzz of steel slicing air fresh in Melton’s ear as it swung past.

  Blade clashed against fist on the downswing as an explosion of blue amidst grey shook the room like an earthquake, pushing them to opposite ends of the room as the dust settled.

  Melton took a glance over to Patricia. She was just barely holding on against a nestle of spears. With every strike she threw out to keep them at bay, the spears closed in tighter, drawing blood as her limbs brushed against sharpened steel, accompanied by the blood curdling sound of metal grinding into metal.

  "Duck!"

  Melton's eyes glowed blue as his hand cleaved across the room. Lightning followed the motion of his hand as it shot out as a blindingly fast crescent. Most, including the captain, managed to hoist shields up in time save for an unfortunate few, their bodies split in half from the waist.

  "Eyes on me!"

  His neck pulled back to the sound of another blast as the grey blur grazed his chin, drawing blood. A high kick met the guard, sharp pain digging into his left shoulder after. The tip of the blade found its mark as his leg came down. Dalton’s face ate a boot as Melton retreated further, his eyes glancing back only to find the wall.

  The lieutenant’s spit hit the floor with a splat as he loafed his way toward his nemesis.

  "Look at you, back against the wall yet you still try to run. That's why they called you a coward as a child. I thought you changed when you did something big out of nowhere, but you're still the same spineless man, this many years later!"

  Emerald eyes glanced around for just a moment. Patricia was slowly losing, a spearhead lodged in one shoulder as the many lacerations on her body slowed her every strike down. It wouldn't take long for that end to be wiped out and his efforts here be for naught.

  But every second had a price in a bout where even a tenth of a second wasted meant defeat, a resounding shockwave shaking Melton’s already wobbly eardrums into putty. Too late.

  A left hand outstretched came up too slow to catch the blade as it dove. The edge digging into Melton’s left shoulder blade, Dalton continued running his mouth. That same sadistic smile widened for every drop of blood he drew from his enemy, forcing Melton onto his knees. Melton’s vision grew red and blurry, his mind numb and abuzz ; It wouldn’t take long for the pain to really kick in.

  "I can't decide which is worse, being half a coward with enough balls to turn tail but not enough to fight properly, or half a traitor that half asses his job. I thought you changed yourself into a redeemable person, but you'd instead turned into a despicable abomination of the two kinds of people I hate most in this world! No wonder you can't look your father in the eyes, you scum!"

  Reset the fight again. This was a lost exchange. Find a different way to close the gap. All he needed was time to think it through, and he’d come out with a way.

  But the sands in an hourglass waited for no one as they fell.

  "Besides, you said you'd stop running away, didn't you?"

  …No more running.

  "...I'll start from the beginning. All of us Tasselts are a mixed breed between the nobility of Raul and another noble family from the far East. We've ridden the ability to produce and control electricity from the Raul nobility and the techniques of our forefathers in the East to put us among the apex of noble families here in the capital, and that fact still remains, 32 generations and counting."

  "Mhm."

  "And starting today, you'll learn the techniques, starting from the first movement, this horizontal chop."

  Pure white lightning covered Nathaniel's hand as he struck the head of the dummy, destroying it from the torso up.

  "...Do not worry about the lightning, it will come with age, Melton. What is important is that you practice well, so that even in your greatest perils, your technique may never fail you."

  "What happens if I become super good at my ability and technique? Like big bro Zeke?"

  "Then the true realm of one’s ability, infinitely mutable by the individual, is revealed to them."

  "What does that mean, Father?" The child looked at his father with a look of inquiry. He was still stuck on what ‘mutable’ even meant.

  "Well, for some, there comes a point in time where they are left with little more than ability and technique in a situation of great difficulty and danger. It happens very rarely, even when the person has mastery over their technique, but in some instances, they reach an epiphany; they realise something, and the technique and the ability combine into something far greater than the sum of its parts."

  "Like a hero getting a shiny new sword when they fight the big bad dragon?" Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose. He’d brought it up as a passing comment, but to think his son had understood enough of the pinnacle of power for an analogy…

  "You can think of it that way. But that's a question for when you're as old as Dad, and you're in the middle of something nasty."

  "Nathaniel! You're not teaching Melton to fight right now, are you?!"

  The head of the household could only avert Serene’s gaze. Any further teachings would have to wait until after he finished getting an earful, it seemed.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The halves of the wooden dummy slid along the path of a razor sharp, pristine cut. A victim of Melton’s practice.

  Soft clapping filled the otherwise quiet practice hall,"Bravo! It's a work of art every time I see you practice your First Movement, Melton."

  "I'm still lacking in the other Movements, Zeke," Melton remarked as he grabbed the hem of his garb, wiping the sweat off his eyebrows.

  Zeke shook his head in reply. As it stood already, he was peerless in this one strike. He didn’t even know that one could make cuts as clean as with a sword with just their hands. "No, really. I don't think Dad's First Movement is any better than yours."

  "That's a stretch. He’s taught me everything I know."

  "Then the student has surpassed the master in this one strike, don't you think?"

  I've been labeled second best, all my life. Zeke's the shining example of an older brother, and my job is to play catch up to this prodigal son.

  Along the way, people shoot me a compliment, but it's nothing compared to the praise and affection he showers in. They call me a great person, but my better half is right there. Maybe they'll take it back when they see that he's the one that's truly deserving of all his praise. It'd be much easier if Zeke were a bad person, but he's the best older brother I've ever known.

  But these past few months, I've begun to have faith in myself again. And it's all thanks to you, Elisabeth.

  That day at the festival, you showed me that someone could like a person like me. Your little assignment showed me that others felt the same way. And if someone as amazing as you could love me with all their heart and tell me that I'm a great person, then it surely must be true, no matter what anybody else says.

  So watch me, Elisabeth. I'll carve a path for you out of this place. I'll break the cage that has bound you since the very beginning, so you can live a life of your own choosing.

  This is my pledge to you as your lover.

  The blade refused to budge, even as Dalton pushed it further in.

  "?"

  A left hand shot out, shoving away the blade, blue electricity slowly beginning to grow brighter as the sword sliced out of Melton’s shoulder. His eyes bore into Dalton’s figure stumbling backwards, yet his sights were set far beyond.

  “I see it. Just like the sunset on that day…”

  The rich and damp scent of ozone filled the air as blue arcs rippled and hissed around the man bleeding from the collar. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment, every pair of eyes captivated by the brilliant violet hue emanating from the officer. Aldrich rushed over to cover the lieutenant with his shield, but it was but a leaf in the surging autumn wind.

  Melton pulled his right hand towards his injured shoulder, blue bolts turning into violet lightning coalescing on his forearm.

  Just enough space to form a base with his legs. Just enough time to see what to sever. Just enough strength left to deliver a proper blow.

  Just enough to glimpse the realm of perfection.

  “First Movement. Horizontal Chop.”

  “The waist leads the body, the body leads the arm, the arm leads the hand. This is the essence of any good strike with your hands. Remember this always, Melton.”

  The path to a singular, perfect strike, revealed before him. His own rendition of perfection. It was only fitting such a technique had its own name.

  "Glimpse of the Setting Sun [殘陽一瞥]."

  From a stance that strained every joint, the body simply unfurled to engulf the room in a deluge of rippling purple.

  Melton wobbled as he stood. Just one strike was enough to black him out for a moment after the movement.

  The spacious room had been completely decimated, sliced along a diagonal as the lone strike cleaved it into half, revealing the desolate night sky adorned with but a single crescent moon. He alone stood amidst a room full of bisected corpses as the smoke cleared.

  Elisabeth!

  He glanced towards the corner. Patricia kneeled on the floor, bristled with spears and blood pooling on the floor. Regret stung his heart, but now was no time to grieve. Not now. Behind her, Elisabeth laid on the floor, her white garb soaked in the blood of many, her white hair in complete disarray, dust and ash covering much of her exposed skin. It wasn’t fair how she still looked so pretty in his eyes, even in such a state.

  "Elisabeth. Are you okay?"

  She could barely spit out anything to speak, dust coating her mouth, "Speak for yourself...You're wobbling all over..."

  Melton's legs liquefied further as relief finally set in, the tension left his body and adrenaline began to fade. Settling into a kneel, his vision dimmed as he laid eyes on what remained of Captain Aldrich, where only two bleeding halves of the beady eyed captain remained.

  "Fuck you, Melton!"

  His head swiveled. Dalton still held a spear in his hands. Blood leaked through a wide open gash on his side like an open tap. A dead man walking in every sense of the word, yet the head of the spear in his bloodied gloves still pointed right at his head.

  The dying lieutenant cocked back the spear, before one last explosion from behind the spear rocked the remains of the room again as he let the weapon fly before crumpling to the floor. Melton’s legs couldn't move, no matter how his mind willed them to run. Even his arms wouldn’t listen to a single command he gave them. The only thing left to do was stare as the bolt of steel pierced through the air to find his head.

  Is this how I die?

  Then all Melton heard was the sickening squelch of steel piercing flesh. A final spurt of adrenaline coursed through his body, firing up his senses once again. He checked his body. No spear.

  A scene, straight out of his deepest, darkest nightmares, presented itself before him.

  In front of him stood a head of long white hair that had long since lost any purple it once held, a spear puncturing through her abdomen.

  That fool!

  "Elisabeth!" Melton cried out her name as his hands snapped the longer end of the spear, pressing down on the wound as hard as he could while she laid on his lap.

  "I've felt this sensation a few times in the past, but it really, really hurts to actually get hit by it, huh..."

  "Idiot! Just close your eyes and count. Calm yourself down and don't let your heart race. The nearest hospital is not too far. If you can hang on in there-"

  "Melton."

  His gaze turned to meet hers, a smile plastered on her face.

  "No running, remember?"

  "Please. Just this once."

  "...It's no use. That day, that moment outside the cathedral was the moment I threw any hope for a normal life away, Melton."

  He hushed Elisabeth quiet. "Don't talk. It's only going to get worse."

  Melton scurried as he scrounged for scrap cloth to use as makeshift bandages, pressing it with all his waning might against the wound. None of it was much use. It didn’t take long for the blood to begin pooling on his trousers and on the floor.

  "You're going to get better. I'll help you return the book you've probably already finished. It'll take a while for you to be discharged, so I'll bring you new things to read as you recover. Then one day, when you're all well, we'll visit the library again together. We'll go to all the festivals for the great food there. Let's play chess again with a massive handicap so maybe you’ll finally win. Let's read the same stupid stories together. I'll do all the things you want to do with you -"

  "Melton. Listen to me."

  The edges of his eyes grew red as beads of condensed regret escaped from his eyes.

  "Even if I live today, only trouble awaits you. You'd have to live your life knowing full well there's a knife put to my neck everywhere I walk. That's not the future I want."

  "Then what do you want?"

  Elisabeth's hand reached out towards Melton's cheek, brushing his tears aside. Such a crybaby.

  "I want to apologise. There's so much I want to tell you but not enough time."

  Elisabeth's vision began to dim and double as her eyes strained open for as long as the dregs of her body, running on fading adrenaline, would allow.

  "I'm sorry that I can't spend more time with you. These few months were the best time in my almost entirely miserable life until you came along and made it a life I'd never regret. I'd resurrect and die over and over again if it meant that I could relive those few months again each time. Maybe next time, I'll be able to beat you in a game of chess if I die and come back enough times..."

  Melton managed to crack a smile after hearing that ridiculous claim come out of her mouth.

  "Stupid. That's not how it works."

  "As I thought, you look much better when you smile; And who's to say it’s not? What a naysayer…”

  “I told you already, keep your mouth shut!” Desperation raised his voice into a screaming command.

  “I have one last request.”

  "...Say it."

  …Hopefully he’ll give me a painless death as opposed to what I saw…

  "Kill me with your own hands."

  Melton couldn’t believe his lover's stupid final wish. And she was never one to say ridiculous things.

  "Stop joking around."

  "I'm not joking, Melton. I wish...for you to...kill me. If...I'm going to die...I want it to be...by your hands..."

  Her breath was growing ragged, every breath coming with a laboured wheeze. Time was running out. And there's only so much time for goodbyes.

  "I'm not doing it, you fool."

  Weakly dragging his head to hers, Elisabeth planted her lips onto Melton’s once more.

  "Was that...enough of a bribe...Mr. Officer?"

  "...It tastes of blood."

  "I just gave you a kiss...and you're complaining? How spoiled...can you get?"

  Her voice was fading thin. The final grains of sand were about to fall.

  No more running.

  Melton's hands gently held the back of her head.

  "Then, let me try this once, just for practice."

  Leaning in, he stole her lips for the first and final time.

  "...Wow...your future lover...isn't going to be...very impressed..."

  Elisabeth's breath began to slow, yet she found just enough strength to flash one last brilliant smile.

  Melton couldn’t help the smile breaking past his teary expression as he bit back. "Meanie."

  The air filled with the smell of ozone once again as purple bolts of electricity coiled around his arms.

  "...I'm…sorry."

  "Save it for when you do something wrong, you idiot!” Melton’s voice went hoarse as he scolded her one last time. He forced a smile, but he couldn’t help every muscle on his face scrunching into an expression of distilled sorrow as tears began to fall to the ground.

  Then, I'll go for this instead. With a dying breath, so you and I both will never forget.

  This time, only her lips could move, mouthing her final words as her breath escaped her.

  "I love you, Melton."

  “...I love you too, you dummy.”

  Purple light flashed against the ruins of the Den of Sin as the fleeting and beautiful setting sun finally disappeared below the horizon.