Chapter 8, Part 3: The Walk of Four
The command was clear.
Kairon didn't shout it. Didn't even rise above a whisper.
"Step out together. Say nothing."
"Let them feel why I chose you."
"Then come home."
He didn't say kill.
But none of them mistook the silence for mercy.
❖ South Plaza – Twilight Flame
The sky glowed red-orange as the sun dipped behind the high towers of the capital, casting the plaza in blood-colored shadow. The chaos had become a rhythm—chant, scream, push, stumble.
Three Red Sigil agents waited at the far perimeter.
They never saw the archive open.
There was no explosion. No horn. No celestial trumpet.
Just… an opening. A slit of golden light that rippled like a blinking eye.
And then they stepped through.
Brix. Lio. Mav. Nair.
No armor.
No announcements.
No raised banners.
But the plaza stopped breathing.
Thousands turned.
And froze.
Because the sins had arrived.
And none of them smiled.
Veydan raised both hands. "You see?! Chosen! Heralds of balance!"
But Brix's feet touched stone, and the stone cracked.
His fists glowed faint orange, like a forge pulsing under skin.
He didn't stop walking.
The crowd didn't part fast enough.
The first pilgrim who reached out—foolishly, to touch his coat—never even screamed.
[Skill Activated: Ember Vein Pulse]
The man's arm blackened from the fingertips to the shoulder, flesh cooking, bone popping. His eyes rolled backward.
Brix kept walking.
The body fell behind him.
Lio walked beside him—blade still sheathed.
But every step was measured, balanced. Precise.
A city guard approached, sword raised, shouting a command.
He didn't finish the sentence.
Shhlick.
Lio drew once.
The man fell in two directions.
Blood didn't even hit Lio's coat.
He cleaned the blade mid-step, eyes never blinking.
Mav… didn't touch anyone.
He just walked.
And everywhere he passed, people collapsed.
Gasps became chokes. Eyes rolled. Knees buckled.
"Too much," Mav whispered. "They crave too loud."
A woman rushed toward him, clutching a child.
Mav exhaled.
[Lust Aura Spike: Charm Implosion]
Her knees failed. Her voice died in her throat.
The child screamed.
And Mav crouched beside him, whispering:
"Don't look. Close your eyes. This isn't for you."
And the boy—without knowing why—did.
And at the rear, Nair walked barefoot through blood.
He didn't kill.
But his aura drank.
Corpses near him began to desiccate—skin clinging to bones, eyes dimming faster.
Old food packets ruptured. Liquid curdled midair. Rations fell from trembling hands as if the city itself was being emptied.
He wept while walking.
But never stopped.
❖ Ten Minutes Later
There were no more screams.
Only wet sound.
And fire.
Blood slicked the plaza bricks. Some bodies were whole. Others were not.
A man crawled toward the edge of the steps, his fingers missing.
Brix walked past.
Paused.
Turned.
"Did you ask him to preach?"
The man coughed. "W-we just wanted to see…"
Brix answered with a backhand.
The man's skull struck stone with a crack.
"You saw," Brix said.
Lio stood over three dead guards, none of them cut the same way.
One had no throat.
One, no stomach.
The third had a single line from hip to jaw.
Lio wiped his blade. Then whispered:
"You worshipped him because it was easy."
"Now die for making it harder."
Mav stood in the fountain, now dyed pink.
He cupped water. Let it fall between his fingers.
"Not even sin deserves to be adored."
He stepped out.
Left footprints that didn't fade.
Nair knelt in the middle of the carnage.
Sobbing quietly.
Hands on his knees.
Whispering:
"I didn't eat them. I didn't eat them. I didn't eat them…"
Above, Veydan stood frozen on his dais.
Not a drop of blood on him.
But his hands were shaking.
The four turned to look at him.
He opened his mouth.
No words came.
Only breath.
Kairon's voice echoed—not aloud.
Through them.
"You said you wanted balance."
"Now weigh it."
They turned.
The archive opened again.
No music.
No glory.
Just light.
They walked home.
Leaving behind silence.
And corpses.