The Ashen Expanse of the Mourning screamed.

  Not with sound—but with pressure.

  Yurei staggered backward through the collapsing canopy, frost cracking off his body as dark ichor spilled from wounds that refused to close cleanly. The land itself recoiled from Kael Ardent’s presence, as though reality had quietly accepted the outcome before the fight had truly begun.

  Yurei’s breath came sharp and uneven.

  “That curse of yours…” he growled. “It isn’t strength. It’s theft.”

  Kael stood where he was, hands in his coat pockets, eyes calm. Not glowing. Not furious. Just… certain.

  “Call it whatever helps you cope,” Kael replied. “End result’s the same.”

  Yurei roared.

  Absolute zero detonated outward.

  The temperature plunged so violently that even ash froze midair, hanging like suspended stars. Entire sections of the canopy turned to brittle crystal. Wildlife under Yurei’s command—twisted beasts of bark, bone, and ice—lunged from every direction.

  Kael didn’t move.

  The beasts shattered on contact with nothing.

  Ice parted around him as if afraid.

  Yurei extended his hand, void spiraling open again—Soul Devour, at full force. The darkness clawed forward, screaming with the voices of the consumed, reaching for Kael’s chest.

  It stopped.

  Not resisted.

  Stopped.

  Kael looked down at the writhing void touching his coat.

  “Huh,” he said mildly. “That’s new.”

  The void collapsed in on itself like it had hit an invisible wall.

  Yurei screamed—not in pain, but in disbelief—as backlash tore through him. His body slammed into the outer wall of the Canopy Village, cracking the ancient ashstone supports.

  “You adapt,” Yurei spat, dragging himself up the vertical surface. “You counter. You overwrite outcomes.”

  Kael tilted his head. “You’re catching on.”

  Roots erupted upward, carrying Yurei higher—toward the towering cliff walls that marked the edge of the Expanse. Frost-coated handholds formed instantly as he climbed, blood freezing as it fell.

  “I don’t need to win,” Yurei hissed. “I only need to survive.”

  Kael watched him go.

  Then—without bending his knees, without effort—he jumped.

  The ground below detonated from the force as Kael Ardent crossed hundreds of meters in a single arc, clearing the cliff face entirely. He landed at the top of the Ashen Expanse, boots touching down softly on solid stone.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  He looked down.

  Yurei froze mid-climb.

  Far above him, silhouetted against the gray sky, Kael stood with hands in his pockets—already there.

  Already waiting.

  “…Impossible,” Yurei whispered.

  Kael leaned forward slightly. “You’re injured. Your soul cohesion’s unstable. If I keep going, you die.”

  Yurei’s grip tightened. “Then do it.”

  Kael straightened.

  “No.”

  The word hit harder than any blow.

  “You massacred a village,” Kael continued calmly. “You killed a knight who didn’t have powers—just a spear and responsibility. You deserve to die.”

  Yurei braced himself.

  “But killing you doesn’t improve anything,” Kael finished. “And I already won.”

  Silence swallowed the Expanse.

  Yurei laughed weakly, blood freezing on his lips. “Winner Winner Chicken Dinner,” he muttered. “A curse that guarantees victory… How boring.”

  Kael shrugged. “Yeah. I hate it too.”

  Yurei released his grip and let himself fall—roots catching him at the last second as he twisted away, fleeing deeper into the wasteland, body barely holding together.

  His presence vanished.

  Kael watched until even the echo of his aura faded.

  Then he turned his back on the Ashen Expanse and walked away.

  Far away, Akiyama Ashen stood at the edge of Fiester Kingdom.

  No walls.

  No barriers.

  Just open roads stretching in every direction.

  Tents dotted the fields beyond the city—refugees from Crestfall, survivors with hollow eyes and shaking hands. Children huddled around weak fires. Soldiers stood guard not behind stone, but beside people.

  Akiyama clenched his fists.

  “They mocked this,” he said quietly. “They said it was stupid.”

  An advisor beside him hesitated. “Your Majesty… Valenreach will not yield.”

  Akiyama stared at the horizon.

  “My ancestors built this kingdom without walls,” he said. “So no one would ever be trapped. So no one would be abandoned.”

  He turned back toward the city.

  “If the world wants to call us weak for that,” he continued, voice steady, “then let them.”

  Above the Ashen Expanse, the wind carried ash and frost alike.

  Somewhere in the wasteland, a wounded god fled.

  And somewhere else, a man who always won… chose to walk away.