Chapter 7 : The Assassins On The Road 1

The day had come.

Itekan was ready. His clothing was packed, his mind set. He had decided to take the egg with him despite everything that had happened. Each day, he'd fed it his spiritual energy. Slowly, it had adapted—almost as if realizing it wouldn't receive the same quantity it once had. Its intake had lessened, but it still swallowed his entire reserve every time.

As Itekan stood at the station with his father, he noticed Flocker and two others arriving. He waved, but Flocker and his entourage ignored him. Itekan slowly dropped his hand, his chest tightening.

Just then, another boy entered. He was a few inches taller than Itekan, with golden-white hair. He seemed uncomfortable in his baggy clothes, his gaze glued to the ground. A sword was strapped to his chest, which he gripped as though his life depended on it.

He caught Itekan staring and shrank deeper into his collar.

A cart rolled up, and the five of them began moving towards it. Itekan was the last to step forward when Carpathia approached.

"Itekan, come."

Itekan glanced at his father, who had silently observed everything till now.

"What's up, Dad?"

Carpathia handed him the black diary Itekan had found in the attic.

"You forgot this."

Itekan blinked, surprised his father knew about it.

"Uhm—"

"Don't worry about it. I want you to have it. It's important to me. Take care of it. Learn from it, okay?"

Carpathia squatted to Itekan's height and tousled his hair.

"Take these too."

He handed Itekan a storage ring and a long rectangular box, dark purple in hue.

"Thanks, Dad!" Itekan beamed.

"Take care of those—they're important. The ring will help you store the egg. Carrying that massive thing around would be a burden otherwise." Carpathia stood up.

"Run along, the cart's leaving soon."

Itekan turned with new resolve and rushed into the cart.

"Is this everyone?" the ticket conductor asked from the station.

"No! There's one more," a voice called. Kutote pulled himself forward. His arms were still covered in bandages, but he moved better now. Behind him, Dr. VonShmit walked slowly toward Carpathia.

"Lord Carpathia, he insisted," VonShmit explained.

"It's fine," Carpathia said calmly. "They're going somewhere safer at least."

"That's good, Lord Carpathia, but—"

"Yes… the journey is the only issue." Carpathia watched as Kutote boarded, then called out to them:

"Be safe, kids."

Itekan, looking through the window, waved back as the cart rolled out of the station.

Carpathia's gaze narrowed.

"VonShmit, did you sense it too?"

"Yes, my Lord. He has a red spirit."

Carpathia scoffed softly. That wasn't what he had meant. VonShmit wouldn't have noticed the other thing—the faint presence of draconic blood.

"Kime… I leave these kids to you."

With that, Carpathia vanished.

---

The journey from Rosa Town to Four Stars Tower would take three to five days.

Four Stars was neutral ground—a place even kings dared not misbehave. That was because of one of the five known Legends: Kime Asburn. He'd planted his school between two warring nations. To the west lay the Kingdom of Fawmult. To the east, the Federation of Taltaba. For generations, they had fought bitter wars… until Kime arrived and carved a deep chasm between them—his school.

The mountain range where Mt. Dekka and Rosa Town sat was free land, south of Fawmult. That was their destination.

The first day passed quietly. Everyone kept to themselves, except Flocker and his crew, who chattered nonstop.

On Itekan's left sat the golden-haired boy—the shyest person he'd ever seen. On his right sat another boy with dark hair who glared daggers at him every time their eyes met. The message was clear:

Don't talk to me.

They stopped to set camp by evening. Itekan noticed the bandaged boy slipping away alone. He rose to follow—but the blonde spoke without looking at him:

"Don't follow him."

"What? He's leaving camp."

"Probably to cultivate. You shouldn't bother him."

The blonde wandered off too, sword in hand. Confused, Itekan sat back down and fed the egg again. Later that night, the blonde returned, exhausted. Itekan pretended to sleep but noticed he stayed awake another four hours before the dark-haired boy returned.

The next day passed in the same manner. On the third day, however, Itekan noticed something different. When the dark-haired kid came back, he was covered in blood.

Itekan jumped up and rushed to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Move. I don't need your help," Kutote snapped, shoving past. Despite his words, he staggered badly.

Itekan reached out and quickly pressed a pressure point on Kutote's neck. The boy collapsed instantly. Itekan carried him to the cart and cleaned his wounds with the first aid supplies.

All the while… he felt watched.

When Kutote awoke, he found himself lying next to a purple-haired boy snoring obnoxiously. He jerked away.

"Who are you? Why can't you leave me alone?"

"I'm Itekan. You probably don't remember, but you were covered in blood last night. I cleaned you up."

Kutote muttered something that almost sounded like thanks and brushed past him.

That day, as both boys disappeared into the wilderness again, Itekan decided to read the diary. He flipped to the last page he'd reached and fed it a small pulse of spiritual energy. Words spiraled onto the page, arranging into legible lines.

" I, at birth, knew my duty. I was to serve the god that ruled over death. I was to be his sword and his champion."

Itekan blinked, confused. His gaze turned hazy. His eyes darkened to pitch black, and a soft shadow spread beneath his feet, rippling outward. Hands rose from the shadows, clasping his ankles. They crept up his legs… then his body… his arms… and finally covered his head.

In that moment, Itekan was no longer human. He was formless—like water running through rivers and wind slipping through skies.

He had become a shadow.

---

Kutote sat cross-legged, fully aware they were here. He had killed two yesterday. Twice as many had come tonight.

They surrounded him silently.

Nobody moved.

Then—they attacked.

In less than a second, they lunged. Two stayed back. Kutote dodged the first man's sword swipe effortlessly.

"Resendo!"

His hands burst into flame-coated spiritual energy. He swung hard, punching the attacker in the chest and sending him flying. Before Kutote could turn, a blade slashed across his back. He whirled around—but saw no one.

As he returned to position—

Stab!

A sword plunged into his chest. He screamed.

---

Itoyea had heard the clash the moment it began. He sprinted toward the sound, heart pounding. Then—he heard the scream.

He pushed faster.

---

Itekan was still exploring his shadow form when he heard it too. His head snapped up toward the distant shout. Without thinking, he shot off into the night. The sheer speed startled even him.

He reached the clearing in moments.

Seven men in black surrounded Kutote. One stood before him, a sword driven deep into Kutote's chest. Another pressed a blade against his throat.

"No!" Itekan gasped.