thief of fate-Chapter 74: continuation

A thick silence enveloped the forest. No sound of birds, no whispers of the wind, not even the buzzing of insects. Everything seemed unnaturally still.

In the midst of that stillness, Raphael stood alone.

And in front of Raphael stood the boy with white hair and melancholic eyes. Axel.

Raphael held his sword at his side—not raised, not lowered. He simply stared at the Arkanis boy with a cautious, yet non-hostile gaze.

A moment of silence passed before Raphael whispered:

"You’re strange... You don’t seem like the others."

Axel turned his face slightly, as if the words meant nothing to him.

Raphael did not retreat. In his eyes, there was only silence. "You’re not like the rest of the Arkanis. You don’t scream with lust for death... You don’t charge in madness as they do. So what are you?"

Axel finally raised his head and looked at Raphael. His eyes held no hostility... but neither did they hold kindness. They were still, tired—as if he had seen a thousand ends to the world.

"Just someone... walking."

Raphael smiled faintly. "Someone? Strange, it seems you prefer riddles."

"Who doesn’t?" Axel replied without blinking. "Direct words are boring, aren’t they?"

"Sometimes the truth is too simple to be hidden. What is your goal?" Raphael asked, stepping slightly forward. "Why did you bring him back? Who sent you?"

But Axel did not answer.

He looked at his hand, then whispered, "Questions are a punishment in themselves... I know that well."

Raphael’s expression changed slightly. An examining look, but with a trace of pity.

"Are you afraid to tell me? Or do you have no answer at all?"

Axel’s silence was like a stone wall.

And in a moment, without warning, the air around him began to ripple.

Raphael noticed the change... and shifted his body slightly, putting his weight on his feet, ready for any attack.

Axel raised his hand slowly. "Perhaps I should tell you... my way."

With those words, the ground around them split open, and from it emerged creatures... dozens of them. Arkanis beings of the lower rank, their bodies deformed, fangs drooping, arms ending in blades.

They crawled and roared, licking the earth with a primal hunger for destruction.

Raphael did not move at first. He looked at them all, then returned his gaze to Axel.

"This is your answer?"

Axel didn’t respond. He sat on a broken tree trunk, as if watching an entertaining show.

Raphael sighed and plunged his sword into the ground for a moment.

Then, in a quiet voice, he said: "Very well... Let’s make them regret existing."

In a flash, Raphael disappeared from his place and appeared in front of the first creature. There was no scream, only a flash of light... and the creature was split in half.

The second had no more time, and the third was torn apart as if a god’s hand had grabbed it and crushed it.

Raphael wasn’t fighting... he was cleaning, purifying the earth from them. Every strike was calculated, sharp, deadly.

Axel watched with no trace of interest. He showed no surprise, not even satisfaction. As if what was happening didn’t concern him at all.

In that moment, Raphael thought:

He’s not fighting me... He’s attacking me with this trash? What’s the purpose? A test? A distraction? Or does he simply... not care?

His eyes were empty. As if life had abandoned him long ago.

One by one, the creatures fell. Their bodies evaporated the moment they were struck by Raphael’s blows. The black blood splattered on the tree trunks and faded without leaving a trace.

And after minutes... not one remained.

Raphael stood again before Axel, not hiding his anger.

"This is how you address me? Send me garbage to keep me busy?"

Axel did not respond, merely looked at Raphael with half-closed eyes, as if thinking of something far removed from this place.

"No one is anyone’s enemy, Raphael. We only move obstacles... for a while."

"Why? Why do you seem so lost?!" Raphael said, his voice rising for the first time. "Have you lost all will to live?"

Axel smirked with sarcasm. "Life is nothing but a repeated farce, Raphael. Being conscious in it is a crime."

"I don’t believe in dead, pretty words. Either you’re with us... or you’re erased."

"Your words sound like their commands..." Axel murmured, looking at the sky. "But at least you’re honest."

Raphael sensed something hidden behind those words. "Do you know them? Those behind you? Are you the chosen one?"

"I... I’m just a failed product of a successful experiment. A twisted copy... that lost its way from the original."

"If you think I’ll pity you, you’re wrong," said Raphael, though his voice lacked its usual harshness. "I only want the truth."

Axel rose from the trunk and walked slowly toward Raphael until he stopped a few meters away.

"You want the truth? Then listen: I won’t be your enemy today, and I won’t be your ally tomorrow. I’m outside all your equations."

"Why?"

"Because I don’t belong to any side... I no longer believe in belonging."

Raphael stood in place, watching the crumbling redness behind Axel’s eyes.

"You won’t last long if you stay with them."

Axel took a step back and whispered: "I know. And maybe, on that day... I’ll wish I had disappeared."

Then he turned and vanished among the trees, as if the forest had swallowed him.

Raphael remained standing there, contemplating the place, the ashes of the creatures, and the trace of the boy who doesn’t belong.

That boy... different. Closer to human.

I’ll meet him again. The only question is... on what ground will we stand then?

Raphael remained standing amid the ashes of the creatures he had torn apart with his sword, contemplating the path Axel vanished into, and inside him was a heavy feeling... a mix of doubt, attraction, and apprehension. The enemy wasn’t clear, and intentions were unknown.

Then, without warning, the air grew heavy around him, and the scent of the forest changed.

The shadows shrank, the sounds faded, and cracks appeared in the very fabric of space... cracks invisible to normal eyes, more like a tear in the world’s fabric.

And from them emerged a man with the features of a king.

Raphael turned immediately. He knew who it was.

"Your Majesty..." he said softly, but he did not bow.

King Yaram smiled, running his fingers through the air, and it was as if something vanished around them.

"I’ve removed the illusion over this area."

"You were here the whole time?" Raphael asked, trying to mask a slight tension.

"From the moment I sensed that person, I felt something would happen."

He paused for a moment, then approached slowly.

"I saw him. That boy..."

Raphael’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Did you try to kill him?"

"Yes."

The answer was direct, and needed no justification.

The king continued in a softer, but charged tone: "I raised my sword from afar. I used my strongest tools... but he lifted his eyes toward me before I did. He didn’t look in my direction—he looked precisely at my position."

Raphael remained silent.

"Raphael... I felt like something stopped me. Not a shield, not a power. As if something... inside me... feared him."

The air around him trembled for a moment as he added: "As if that Arkanis... knew I’d been watching him from the start."

The wind returned to the forest, but it carried a different tone, as if nature itself was listening.

"Axel is not just a different Arkanis. He is a sign. A beginning," Yaram muttered, his eyes fixed on the ashes.

"What will we do?" Raphael asked, his voice now more firm.

The king turned, looking at the sky.

"We raise the walls. Fortify the defenses. Reactivate the ancient shields we shut down. And summon the guardian factions once again."

"Do you fear a war?"

"I do not fear it, Raphael..." Yaram said slowly. "But I expect it. And that person... may not be an enemy, but he will not be an ally either. And that... is what makes the danger greater."

He fell silent for a moment, then looked directly at Raphael.

"Watch him. Don’t get close, but don’t let him drift too far. If this is going to be decided... then let us be the ones holding the reins."

Raphael nodded, though he didn’t hide his confusion.

"There’s something about him... I felt he didn’t want to fight."

"And that’s the most dangerous thing about him," Yaram said seriously.

"The real danger doesn’t come from those who want to kill, but from those who don’t care if they do."

Yaram raised his hand, and a blue light flared around him, tracing lines in the air.

Dots began to glow one after another—defense positions, towers, shields, and early warning rings.

"We’ll reinforce the fortresses in the north and east. Post watchers in every mountain pass. And reopen the gate... There’s no time for rest."

"And the tournament?" Raphael asked suddenly, after a moment of silence.

The king looked toward him, and in his eyes was a different glimmer.

"It shall be held as planned."

"Even with all this?"

"This is a threat, yes—but one the public must not see yet... The tournament will gather power, show who can be relied upon. And who will shatter at the first wind."

Then he turned, his steps tearing through the stillness, and whispered:

"The war has begun... just without anyone declaring it."

They both rested for only a few minutes, but they knew true rest was no longer an option.

When King Yaram opened his eyes, the moon was at its peak.

"I’ve seen them sneaking between the trees before..." he muttered, his voice barely audible.

He rose slowly and raised his right hand to the sky.

The air around him trembled, and faint threads of light began to pour from his palm, intertwining and twisting, then spreading across the ground like a hidden net.

With each breath he took, the circle grew wider.

He saw the illusion spread among the trees, over the rooftops, and beneath the earth, until it covered the entire area—and even beyond.

But it wasn’t just a surveillance network.

They were illusions... of a level unseen by the naked eye, undetectable even by seasoned warriors. Layers of false reality—misleading and disorienting, showing what wasn’t there and hiding what was.

"Anyone who tries to pierce this veil..." said the king as he slowly lowered his hand, "will see what they want to see... until they no longer want to move forward."

His eyes gleamed.

"And some... may never leave at all."