Chapter 5

  Under the Silver Moon

  In the academy courtyard, beneath the silver glow of a flawless moonlit sky, Sbyam and Suero stood in deep silence. The world felt still, as though time itself had frozen—nothing but a gentle breeze carrying fragments of their unspoken thoughts. Both of them gazed up at the moon, its bluish light spilling across the ground like a tranquil lake of radiance.

  At last, Sbyam broke the sacred quiet. His voice was low and steady, blending seamlessly with the calm of the night.

  “I’m leaving.”

  Suero studied him for a moment before replying, confusion lacing his cautious tone.

  “Leaving… where?”

  Sbyam slowly turned away, as if shedding invisible burdens with that single motion. A faint, enigmatic smile curved across his lips, casting shadows over his face—making him seem like part of a riddle no one else could solve.

  “I have an appointment,” he replied softly.

  Suero remained where he was, eyes fixed on Sbyam’s back as he walked away at an unhurried pace. The words echoed in his mind, heavier than they should have been. An appointment? Was Sbyam hiding something more than that?

  An unanswered question lingered.

  Does he have someone waiting for him?

  ---

  Suero’s Home

  Moonlight slipped quietly through the bedroom window, wrapping Salma in a delicate glow, as though the night itself were holding her close. She stood there, her eyes fixed on the moon, lost in a silence that revealed nothing—and yet everything. The night overflowed with memories that refused to fade.

  Rashid, her father, approached softly, his steps careful, as if he feared disturbing her thoughts. Concern and warmth filled his voice when he spoke.

  “Are you alright?”

  Salma didn’t look away. As if completely enchanted by the moon, she answered in a quiet, distant whisper,

  “Yes.”

  She seemed adrift in a sea of memories, with no shore in sight. Rashid offered a gentle smile and spoke again, his voice calm, like the rhythm of distant waves.

  “Alright then. I’ll go to bed.”

  He lay down, yet his gaze lingered on her—as though something unspoken hung in the space between them.

  Slowly, Salma drifted to sleep.

  Her lips moved in a faint murmur, as if speaking to herself—or perhaps to the moon itself—lost in memories from long ago.

  “Why did you do it, Spailo… why?”

  Her words lingered in the air, wrapped in quiet sorrow, as though the moon itself shared her pain in eternal silence.

  ---

  In a Warm, Classic Café

  Soft lights spilled across the walls like threads of gold, bathing the café in a quiet, romantic glow. The atmosphere was calm—almost unreal—as if time itself had paused for a fleeting moment. A violinist played gentle melodies that drifted through the air, soothing and elegant, wrapping around the hearts of everyone inside.

  Sbyam sat at a small table, enjoying his meal in silence.

  Across from him, Risa watched his face with growing unease. Her gaze lingered, heavy, as if unspoken words were piling up inside her, searching desperately for a way out.

  The silence stretched.

  Then Risa let out a sharp breath, as though her patience had finally snapped.

  “Do you even care?” she demanded.

  Sbyam slowly raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely puzzled, as if the question had caught him off guard. His reply was calm—almost innocent.

  “About what?”

  Risa drew in a deep breath, trying to rein in her frustration. It failed. Her words burst free, raw and unrestrained.

  “I’ve told you hundreds of times! I told you that I love you!”

  Sbyam looked at her with an unsettling calm, as though her confession were nothing more than passing fog—something that touched him and vanished without leaving a trace.

  It didn’t move him.

  Her voice sharpened, each word cutting deeper than the last.

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  “We’ve known each other for so long—since you were just a student!”

  A soft, almost mocking laugh escaped Sbyam as he glanced down at the table.

  “You still remember those days?”

  Disappointment washed over Risa’s face, quickly twisting into restrained anger. She stood up abruptly, her eyes blazing, as if she had reached the point of no return.

  Sbyam noticed the resolve in her movement. His voice dropped, concern—unusual for him—slipping through.

  “Where are you going?”

  She answered without turning back, bitterness filling every syllable.

  “I’m tired of this.”

  Before she could walk away, Sbyam reached out and gently caught her hand. The touch was sudden—so still that it felt as though time itself had frozen at the moment their fingers met.

  Risa turned slowly to face him.

  Their eyes met.

  It was a silent exchange, thick with pain and refusal.

  Then Sbyam spoke, his voice quiet, strangely distant, as if trying to ease a weight pressing against his chest.

  “Sit.”

  Risa hesitated. Her heart wavered—but in the end, she returned to her seat, her eyes never leaving his unreadable expression.

  Her tone hardened once more.

  “Fine. Then what do you want to say?”

  Sbyam studied her deeply before answering.

  “You know I’m from the Raimo Clan. I have many enemies.”

  His voice dropped further, as if he were unearthing something long buried.

  “Do you remember… Itasha?”

  The moment he spoke that name, something in him changed.

  His gaze fell to the table, grief settling over his face, as though the memory had seized his mind completely.

  Risa reached out and held his hand gently.

  “Sbyam…” she whispered.

  He looked up at her. His eyes shimmered with sorrow—a silent storm gathering before inevitable disaster.

  Risa smiled softly, warmth filling her voice.

  “I know you want to protect me. But I want to be with you—even if it costs me my life.”

  Sbyam exhaled, a weary breath that sounded like the weight of the world leaving his lungs. His voice sank to a near-whisper, as if he were speaking only to himself.

  “I couldn’t protect her… or my friend Brylo. I failed him.”

  His grip tightened slightly.

  “And I’m afraid I’ll fail again. I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you.”

  Risa squeezed his hand gently, affection and resolve woven into the touch. She opened her mouth to respond

  —

  A gunshot tore through the café.

  Glass exploded into the air.

  The bullet struck Risa’s head like a bolt of lightning. Blood splattered across the table, staining Sbyam’s face.

  Risa swayed for a brief, fragile moment—then collapsed to the floor. Her body lay still as a dark red pool slowly spread beneath her.

  Sbyam stared ahead, his eyes wide, empty with shock, as though his mind refused to accept what had just happened.

  A hollow whisper slipped from his lips.

  “What…?”

  Blood spread around him.

  And then chaos erupted.

  Screams filled the café. Patrons fled in terror, colliding with one another as panic consumed the room.

  Amid the Panic

  Through the chaos, the assassin known as Smart stepped into the café.

  His footsteps were calm. Confident.

  A smile of pure arrogance rested on his lips, wrapped in a dark aura of mockery as he approached the table.

  His voice dripped with amusement.

  “Sbyam Brius… do you remember me?”

  Sbyam slowly lifted his head. His eyes still reflected a hollow, paralyzing shock.

  Smart laughed, clearly enjoying himself, before continuing in a playful tone.

  “You ran away that day and failed to kill me. What a mistake.”

  His smile widened.

  “Because today… I’ll be the one who kills you.”

  Sbyam’s gaze drifted to Risa’s lifeless body.

  The crimson pool beneath her continued to spread, inch by inch. In that moment, time seemed to stretch endlessly, as though life itself had stopped breathing.

  Smart’s voice ignited a burning hatred deep within Sbyam’s chest. Cold. Lethal. His words carried a bitterness forged over years.

  “Ah… the legacy of the Raimo Clan. I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”

  His eyes gleamed.

  “To kill you with my own hands.”

  A dark fire flashed in Sbyam’s eyes.

  His stare became an abyss—

  a gaze that promised death.

  Smart instinctively took a small step back. Still, he smirked.

  “You’re terrifying, kid.”

  Sbyam’s voice sharpened, soaked in murderous rage.

  “You killed her.”

  Smart glanced at Risa’s body, then let out a chilling laugh.

  “I’d like to say I killed her for the same reason I killed that little girl before…”

  He tilted his head slightly.

  “But this time? It was simply because of how deeply I hate you.”

  Suddenly, horrifying black sparks erupted around Sbyam, writhing like burning flames that distorted the very air.

  Smart noticed—and smiled, unshaken.

  “I’m not stupid enough to face the strongest sorcerer of this generation without preparation.”

  Sbyam’s response was low. Deadly.

  Grief still bled through every word.

  “THEN… DIE.”

  ---

  Elsewhere

  Inside the academy dormitory, Moryo lay sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling in boredom.

  The door opened hesitantly. Baysal stepped inside and asked,

  “Has anyone seen master Sbyam?”

  Kamyo replied without interest,

  “Why?”

  Baysal’s voice dropped, uneasy.

  “Because I haven’t seen him all day.”

  Moryo answered firmly, never taking his eyes off the ceiling.

  “Go to sleep. That’s enough.”

  The room fell silent.

  ---

  Inside the Café

  What had begun in uneasy silence had collapsed into chaos.

  Tables lay overturned. Chairs were shattered. Smoke choked the air.

  A violent explosion ripped through the café, forcing Smart to stumble backward until his body slammed into a nearby wall.

  He stood there, gasping for breath.

  Then his eyes locked onto Sbyam.

  Sbyam was approaching—slowly—dark sparks crawling around his body, flashing and twisting as if they were feeding on him. Smart’s heart pounded despite his forced composure. Deep down, fear surfaced before he could suppress it.

  “You’re a monster, Sbyam.”

  The dark sparks intensified.

  Then Sbyam vanished.

  Like a shadow swallowed by the air itself.

  Smart’s eyes darted wildly, searching—

  and suddenly—

  Sbyam was behind him.

  As if he had stepped out of nothingness.

  His eyes burned with restrained fury, a hidden fire barely contained.

  Smart reacted instantly, lunging forward. His arm crackled with blinding white energy, the pressure splitting the air around it. He roared, tearing through the heavy silence.

  “I’ll defeat you! I’ll beat you again!”

  His punch shot straight for Sbyam’s face, carrying enough force to obliterate everything in its path.

  But Sbyam didn’t move.

  Not even a fraction.

  It was as if time itself had slowed for him.

  The punch landed.

  Sbyam absorbed it completely—without flinching.

  Smart froze.

  Shock twisted his expression as his voice trembled.

  “What…? How—?”

  His thoughts spiraled.

  “Is this his technique? Or is his body just that strong? I put everything into that strike!”

  Confusion flooded his mind as he struggled to understand what he was facing.

  Sbyam finally spoke. His voice was calm—yet merciless.

  “I’ve always hated you, Smart. I’ve always wanted you dead.”

  His eyes hardened.

  “You don’t deserve to be Moryo’s father.”

  Smart sneered, forcing defiance into his grin.

  “That’s not for you to decide!”

  He stepped back, twisting his body to gather momentum. White sparks blazed around his raised arm as his rage peaked.

  “I’ll KILL YOU—RIGHT NOW!”

  Sbyam slowly lifted his gaze.

  Darkness pooled within his eyes, embodying every wound, every loss, every ounce of rage he had buried.

  As Smart charged—

  Sbyam whispered.

  “Realm Activation: Kurmo Domain.”

  Reality collapsed.

  A strange white barrier burst into existence, swallowing the surroundings in blinding light—as if an entirely new world had devoured the real one.

  Smart tried to move.

  His body refused.

  Invisible force locked him in place.

  Panic crept into his thoughts as his perception slowed, warped, dragged through thick, distorted time.

  “What… is this?” he muttered.

  “Did I enter his realm? I can move—but my mind… it’s trapped…!”

  Sbyam advanced, unhurried.

  He raised a single finger.

  Smart stared back, terror flooding his eyes.

  A small black spark formed at Sbyam’s fingertip—then launched forward.

  At first, Smart felt a cold sting.

  Then—

  Agony.

  Blazing heat erupted inside him, as if the black spark was tearing his existence apart, fiber by fiber. Sweat poured down his face as the pain escalated beyond comprehension.

  And then—

  His body exploded.

  Flesh, blood, and fragments scattered violently across the battlefield, painting the world in crimson.

  The white barrier vanished.

  Reality returned.

  The onlookers stood frozen, faces drained of color. One of them whispered, staring at Sbyam in horror.

  “What… what just happened?”

  “That man… he’s dead.”

  Sbyam remained still.

  A statue amid blood and ruin.

  An unnatural calm settled over him as he stared at the stained ground. He wiped the blood from his face without emotion, then cast one final glance at the crimson remains—

  A silent testament to Smart’s end.

  ---

  End of Chapter.