The ground quaked violently as Mercury flicked her wrist, summoning an overwhelming surge of energy. The red sun blazed, and from nowhere, a silver moon crept into its path, casting the arena into the night. An eerie silence followed, broken only by the distant howling of the wind. Disciples lined the edges of the coliseum, their gazes fixed on Hades.
Hades gripped his blade tightly. Madame Lin had warned him—almost all of them were gifted and the others were skilled warriors not to be taken likely. He could feel the tension in the air, a silent challenge hanging between them, as he waited for the first move to be made.
“So, you are serious,” Mercury said, her tone laced with mockery. Her gown morphed back into a flowing cloak, tendrils of shadow trailing behind her as she remained midair. "You see, I’ve never liked the Weeping Swordsman—a man who runs away from his responsibilities, driving himself to the brink of madness." She smirked, her hair catching the faintest light. "Yet here you are, drawing your blade against the strongest men and women across the nine realms, only to encounter a lady who does not wish to see your face"
“You know nothing about me,” Hades said.
“Oh, but I do.” Mercury's grin widened. “The infamous demon of the sanctuary. A butcher turned adventurer. A so-called guardian to the Falcrest siblings. Though it seems even that title is wasted on you.” She said, her disdain palpable. “How ironic. You, who abandoned your responsibilities, now seek to fight for them?”
Hades' brows furrowed. “Falcrest... that name...”
“Pathetic,” she interrupted, her voice sharp. “You’ve travelled with them for months, yet you don’t even know their story, their family. You, who claim to protect, never ask, never care. Why do you even exist, Hades? To destroy? To fail those who depend on you?”
His grip on his sword faltered. Beneath his hat, his eyes remained hidden, but the tension in his trembling fists betrayed him.
“Tell me,” Mercury said, her voice dripping with venom. “When have you ever upheld your duties? From Pyrovile’s chaos to the mess here on the fourth, you’ve been nothing but a liability. Bloodborne must regret ever choosing you, a man who falters at every turn.”
The words pierced him like daggers, but he stayed silent.
“Do you remember when Lily needed you most?” Mercury’s voice lowered. “You disappeared. You left her to bear the weight of everything alone. You are not a guardian, Hades. You’re a devil.”
“I know I’m afraid,” Hades said, his voice barely audible. His energy wavered, and his sword dipped. “I don’t want to lose any of them. I... I need to be stronger.”
“No,” Mercury snapped, her gaze cold and unrelenting. “What you need is to be there. Strength means nothing if you’re too much of a coward to stand by the people who need you.”
“I... I want to try, but—”
“But nothing!” she spat, turning her back on him. “I am neither your friend nor your mother, Hades. If you truly wish to redeem yourself, do the world a favour—and die”
The disciples watched in silence as the winds howled into a violent storm, ripping apart the arena’s walls like fragile paper. The ground trembled beneath Hades’ feet, but he stood unmoving, his head bowed. The shimmering energy that coated his body flickered and faded with every second. Then, a colossal gust roared toward him, tearing apart the earth itself.
“She’s right,” Hades whispered. “What’s the point of strength if I lose all of them? Lily, Pasta, Emilia, Master Bloodborne… everyone I’ve met and fought for until now. Have I shown them how much they mean to me? Or am I just a failure in their eyes?”
His fists clenched, and his shoulders shook. The storm loomed closer, a raging tempest of dust and destruction. “If I could go back... I’d fix everything. Make it right again. I don’t want to lose them. I can’t lose them.”
He raised his head at last, facing the encroaching chaos. His hands steadied by his sides. “I want to protect them... to be with them again! So I can't die here!”
Drawing his blade, Hades summoned what little energy he could muster. The aura around him flickered but refused to stabilise. The storm surged, pelting him with debris. Jagged rocks battered his body, each strike forcing him to stagger, but he held firm. The disciples watched, unmoved, their power undiminished. This was but a taste of their strength, and it felt like an unrelenting nightmare to Hades.
The tornado swirled, consuming the coliseum in a haze. Hades’ vision blurred, dizziness threatening to drag him under. He stomped his foot against the trembling ground. “I can’t… pass out… not here.”
Bon’s book slipped from his pocket, caught in the storm’s grasp. His heart sank as he watched it spiral away. “No!” he gasped, lunging after it.
He leapt into the storm, his body battered by the gale. The scarf on his wrist tore free, followed by the box he carried. Desperation drove him forward as he managed to grab the book, and then the box and scarf clutching them. But the flower, slipped further away, its petals fluttering toward the storm’s maw.
A disciple sighed, striking a match and casting it into the cyclone. Flames erupted, crimson and hungry, devouring the storm. The inferno spread, igniting the arena in a fiery blaze.
Hades pushed his body beyond its limits, using a jagged, flying rock as a springboard. He roared, stretching his hand toward the flower. His fingertips brushed its petals. “Come on...!” he grunted, his voice ragged. At last, he grasped it, pulling it close.
The flames surged, consuming the storm’s remnants and licking at his clothing. His hat disintegrated, and embers burned through his coat. Rocks rained down like molten hail, striking him relentlessly. His sword glowed red-hot from the heat, and his consciousness began to waver. Yet, he held on, clutching the precious items to his chest.
High above, the atmosphere shifted. The skies rippled with energy as blue and red lightning danced across the heavens. Shadows emerged from the clouds—wingless dragons, countless in number, swirling in majestic formation. Their presence was overwhelming, and the disciples dropped to their knees, unable to resist. Only Mercury remained standing, her head bowed in reverence.
“It’s enough,” a thunderous voice echoed, resonating across the grand stage.
The wind carried a biting cold, transforming the scorched arena into a frozen tundra. Snow blanketed the ground as Hades collapsed into its icy embrace. His tattered clothing clung to his burned skin. Still, his trembling hands checked the condition of the items he’d saved, relief flooding his weary frame.
“Mercury,” the voice said. “Take him to her”
Mercury’s eyes widened as she looked skyward. “But… he’s the Weeping Swordsman, a murderer. It’s already a sin for him to step foot here, let alone meet a disciple without consent.”
“Have you forgotten, Mercury?” the voice asked, calm yet unyielding. “We were all tainted once—marred by evil, burdened by darkness. Redemption is not a gift we deny. Lily may not wish to meet him, but we both know her heart and how chaotic it is. Take him to her.”
Mercury clenched her teeth, glaring at the sky. Her fists shook as she turned to Hades, who had begun placing back the items.
Hades met her gaze, before he could say a word he disappeared.
*
The forest rested in serene quiet, its trees laden with the remnants of snow. Birds flitted overhead, tending to their daily routines—until a sudden shout tore through the stillness, scattering critters into the skies.
“I feel like an old man!” Pasta groaned, trudging along the snow-dusted path with a stick serving as his crutch. Ahead of him, Kabal marched, unbothered. “Just stick with it, Grandpa. Cause I’m not carrying you”
“I know, I know,” Pasta said, adjusting his grip on the stick. “You said you know some adventurers nearby. Are you sure they can help?”
Kabal nodded, “They are friends of mine who are situated in a town, they should have information about an S-rank adventurer with a scythe. I guarantee it”
Pasta squinted. “What makes you so sure?”
“They’re A-rank adventurers who oversee an entire village,” Kabal said. “They’ve got access to the records of every adventurer that’s passed through the realm. Trust me, gathering intel is kind of their thing.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
As Pasta listened, he stumbled over a protruding branch, nearly face-planting into the snow. Swearing under his breath, he straightened and smacked the offending tree with his stick.
Kabal paused, taking a swig from his water bottle before glancing back. “You never told me why the hunters kidnapped Emilia in the first place. They’re not the type to take prisoners—usually, it’s kill or be killed with them”
With a sigh, Pasta whispered. Yeah… you deserve to know. You did save my life.”
“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to”
“No, it’s fine,” Pasta said, his tone resolute. “Emilia and I... we’re from the Falcrest family.”
Kabal froze mid-step, spinning around so quickly that he nearly tripped himself. “Oh, yeah? And I’m the grandson of Lord Dvalin,” he scoffed. “Come on, tell me the truth.”
The smug grin on Pasta’s face made Kabal pause, a sinking realization dawning on him. “Wait… what? Are you serious? Falcrest, as in Lord Missui Falcrest of the Second?”
“Yep,” Pasta said, “we’re part of the Second Lord’s family.”
Kabal fell to his knee, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry, my liege! If I’d known, I would’ve come to your aid sooner!”
“What the?” Pasta frowned, stepping back. “What are you doing?! Stop that! I’m not that kind of guy!” He scratched his head in frustration. “This—this is one of the reasons why Emilia and I kept it a secret.”
Kabal lifted his face, dusting snow off his hair. “Right. Sorry. It’s just... a shock. I was expecting you to be some spoiled merchant kid, not part of the freaking Second Lord family. What are you even doing here in the Fourth?”
Pasta faced away. “It was Emilia’s wish,” he said softly. “Before her coronation as a grand noble, she wanted an adventure. She wanted to be free, even just for a little while.”
Kabal raised an eyebrow. “And your father was okay with that? Nobles are known to be very protective.”
Pasta gave a bitter laugh. “Of course not. But after the rumours of war in the Eighth, we couldn’t risk travelling as nobles with just a few guards. Playing the part of adventurers was the only way to stay safe.”
"How about Mr Swordsman?"
Pasta frowned again. "Oh him? He never asked. All he did was play the part of the quiet cool swordsman in the background"
Kabal chuckled, walking forward. “So where do the hunters come into all of this anyways?”
“Emilia spent years training, we both were,” Pasta admitted, his fists clenching at his sides. “This kingdom’s already decided her fate. She’s just a pawn to them. They’ll stop at nothing to control her—this adventure was the only chance she had to escape their grasp. Those hunters may have figured out who she was, but I have no clue what they had planned. Now she's somewhere in the fourth, and there's a chance she's not even here.”
Kabal’s expression hardened as he reached out and placed a hand on Pasta’s shoulder. “Then there’s no time to waste. We’ll find her before it’s too late. Right?”
"Yes, we will," Pasta nodded, as they pressed forward, the snowy path winding toward the next village.
*
The air was sweet with the fragrance of fresh roses, their crimson petals carefully arranged along the edges of a serene garden. The only sound that broke the silence was the soft, haunting melody of a flute.
Hades stood, gazing out at the vast expanse of clouds that framed this floating isle in the sky. Beside him, a simple table held a half-eaten ear of corn and a piece of paper scrawled with cryptic notes.
The music flowed from a gazebo just ahead, where a woman sat with her back to him. Her garment shimmered with countless hues, and tiny bells adorned the brim of her wide hat, swaying gently. Her long dark hair trailed the ground, its tips brushing the wooden floor. The flute fell silent.
Hades closed his eyes as the cold kiss of steel touched the nape of his neck.
“I never asked to meet you,” Lily whispered.
He remained still, then slowly turned to face her. Her blade nicked his skin as he moved, leaving a thin trail of crimson along his neck.
“I never wanted to see you again,” Lily whispered.
Lily’s gaze locked with his. “You remember?” she asked.
Hades nodded.
She exhaled, sheathing her weapon. “Leave, Hades. It’s too late. All those years you spent in ignorance of their deaths…” Her voice cracked as she turned away. “Leave their belongings on the table and go. Because of you, they almost got burnt.”
“I’m so—” Hades began, his voice trembling, but he faltered. He took a step closer. “I was a fool. I know.”
Lily clenched her fist, grabbing him. “Now you say that? Really? ” She said, her voice rising with each word. “I was alone, Hades. For six years. After they died, you kept forgetting, day after day, losing yourself in madness! You stopped calling me Lily, stopped calling me Forty-Three, and then—” her voice broke—“you said I had no name. I was nothing to you. So just leave!”
Hades lowered his head, reaching out to her, but she shoved him back, her glare unyielding. “Leave, Hades. It’s over. There’s nothing you can do about it?”
He placed his sword on the table, its weight making the wood groan. “No.”
“What?”
“I’m not leaving”
Her frown deepened. “I’m not joking, Hades”
“Neither am I,” he said. “When we were young, you were always there for me. When you needed me most, I disappeared. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Her blade gleamed in the light as she unsheathed it, pointing it directly at him. “Leave now, or I’ll make you.”
Hades met her glare. “I don’t mind you killing me. But I’ve promised myself I won’t die—not yet. So… please, don’t make me break that promise.” He forced a shaky smile, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Lily lunged forward, driving her blade into the table beside him. The sharp crack of wood filled the garden as she rested her forehead against his chest.
Hades froze, pale as a ghost. For a moment, he was certain his head was decapitated.
“You really are the worst Hades”
“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m terrible.”
“You are worse than the devil,” she said, holding his shirt.
“I know”
“You left me alone all this time”
“I’m sorry”
Her fist connected with his face, snapping his head to the side. Hades didn’t flinch, only staring down at her with guilt-ridden eyes. “I deserve that. And more.”
“I’ll beat you up later,” she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her trembling frame, his embrace gentle yet firm. “I’ve been unfair to you all this time, Lily. You’ve been hurt so much because of me. Let me bear those burdens now. You don’t have to suffer alone anymore”
Her tears came in torrents, her resolve crumbling as she clung to him. “You won’t disappear again, right?”
He shook his head, “I’ll always be by your side, through everything, both the good and bad,” he smiled at her. “We are married after all”
A shaky laugh escaped her lips before her sobs returned, loud and unrestrained. Hades stroked her hair, his own tears slipping silently onto her dark locks. Her cries filled the garden as the scent of roses swirled around them.
*
Pasta and Kabal strolled down the quiet streets of the village, where the emptiness of the place was palpable. Most of the homes stood abandoned, their doors left ajar. Only the occasional laughter of children was heard as they darted past, wielding sticks as makeshift swords. One boy’s eyes lit up at the sight of the blade strapped to Pasta’s back.
“Woah, a real sword?” he gasped.
“Are you a swordsman?” another boy said, rushing over.
Pasta puffed out his chest, grinning. “Not just any swordsman—I’m one of the strongest in the world!”
Kabal raised a brow. “Strongest swordsman with broken bones? Never heard of that before.”
“Shut up!” Pasta yelled, his pride stinging as the kids giggled and ran off, waving back at him.
“Nice to meet you, swordsman!”
Pasta waved back and continued leaping through the path. “Where are your friends anyway?”
“Probably getting drunk at some bar,” Kabal replied. “You should really get some rest, Pasta. I can handle this”
“No way! I’m coming with you.”
Kabal sighed but didn’t argue. They continued walking, passing by a few stray villagers and shuttered shops. Eventually, they arrived at a bar. The heavy oak door creaked as they stepped inside, the faint scent of beer and charred meat wafting through the air. A burst of laughter echoed from deeper within. Kabal followed the sound, leading Pasta through the near-empty space.
At the source of the laughter, three adventurers were seated at a corner table filled with drinks, their voices loud and boisterous. A blond man with short-cropped hair stood to greet them.
“Hey, Kabal!” he said, clasping his hand in a firm shake. “Perfect timing, Tell this Ferian that my special thrust beats her pathetic little axe any day!”
Ferian, a purple haired fierce woman wearing a basket over her head that barely contained her fiery aura, sprang to her feet. Her chest bounced as she leaned forward. “How about we take this to the battlefield, Drake?”
Sitting between them, a pale-haired girl with an eye patch sighed, arms crossed. “Apologies for the chaos, Kabal. As you can see, nothing’s changed.”
Kabal smirked. “Good to see you too, Eine.” He pulled Pasta closer. “This is Pasta. We’re looking for someone and thought you might be able to help.”
Eine sidestepped the quarrelling duo, extending a hand to Pasta. “Nice to meet you, Pasta. What a strange, yet delicious name you got”
“Uh, thanks?” Pasta replied, side-eyeing her.
Drake and Ferian kept arguing before Eine hit both on the head, sending them to their knees.
“So,” she said, turning back, “you’re looking for someone?”
Pasta stepped forward, his eyes fixed on hers. “Yes, an S-class adventurer with a scythe.”
Drake groaned, rubbing his head as he straightened. “An S-class? The only ones we know of are guarding Lord Dvalin. Doubt there’s any others around.”
“No, she isn’t from around here; at least, I think she isn’t. However, she was at the fireworks show,” Pasta said.
The three adventurers exchanged glances.
“You sure she’s S-class?” Eine asked, her voice sceptical.
Kabal smiled to himself. "She’s an S-rank all right," he mused, his mind racing with wild thoughts.
They all glared at him, turning away without saying a word. Ferian approached Pasta, inspecting him with sharp eyes. “And what happened to you? Did you pick a fight with a mountain or something?”
Kabal burst into laughter, clapping Pasta on the back. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it! This idiot charged into the town of hunters. Alone.”
“What!” they all shouted.
Drake grabbed Pasta’s shoulders, shaking him. “What’s wrong with you? Are you insane?”
Ferian poked at his bandages. “And how are you even alive?”
Pasta gritted his teeth, enduring the barrage of pinches, shoves, and questions. Eine stepped closer, her eye narrowing at his injuries.
Eine stepped to him, observing the injuries. “Yeah, they got you good. Was it worth it? You know being an idiot and all”
Pasta glared at her, but before he could retort, Drake suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait. Didn’t we see a girl with a scythe the other day? She was with some hunters near Rainbow Lake.”
Pasta’s eyes widened. “Tori? She was with hunters?!”
Kabal sighed. “Looks like another rescue mission. Where were they headed?”
Eine frowned, crossing her arms. “You can’t go after them. The area they entered is teeming with energy so strong it’ll knock you out in seconds. Those hunters aren’t ordinary—they’re monsters. Our job is to protect this village in case they attack, but if you ask me, it’s only a matter of time before we’re wiped out.”
Ferian leaned back on a table. “The town’s almost empty now because of them. The only ones left are the elderly and some orphans who can't travel on foot alone in the harsh weather or others with nowhere to go.”
Kabal turned to Pasta. “Well? What’s the plan?”
“Hell no,” Pasta said, cracking his neck, a smirk creeping onto his face. “He said rainbow lake, you know rainbow lake?”
“I do”
Pasta threw his stick to the corner. “We’re going then”
“I knew you’d say that you danger addict,” Kbal chuckled, as they headed for the exit.
Ferian yelled. “Didn’t you hear those hunters are pretty strong”
Pasta stopped in his tracks and looked back at her. “Trust me. I’ve met worse.”