What is Truly Important

The glow from the distant fires outside cast a weak, flickering light across the Vice Academy Director’s office.

Through the dimness, I watched a silhouette moving about.

The shadow pulled a few books from a shelf, tossed them onto the floor like trash, and set them ablaze. The small flame began to eat away at the paper, gradually filling the room with a warm, steady light.

The figure revealed by the fire was a thin man dressed as one of the Black-clad Men.

"Nice outfit, Vice Academy Director Ruslan. What's the occasion?"

The man flinched. He thought he was alone, but I’d been sitting there on his sofa with my legs crossed, deep into a book, for quite a while.

I looked like your average, run-of-the-mill black-haired student. I didn’t even look up from my thick tome as the fire spread; I just turned a page. The 'unfazed mob character' aesthetic was really coming together. The sound of that page turn? Pure cinematic gold.

"You're sharp," the Black-clad Man said.

He pulled off his Magician's Mask, revealing the face of an older man with graying hair swept back in a sharp all-back style. It was indeed Vice Academy Director Ruslan. He tossed the mask into the fire and proceeded to strip off the rest of his tactical gear, letting the flames consume the evidence.

The room got a lot brighter.

"Just for my own reference, Cid Kagenou-kun... how did you know it was me?" he asked, taking a seat across from me.

"I could just tell by looking at you."

I gave him a brief glance before returning my eyes to the text.

"Just by looking, huh? My gait? My posture? Either way, you’ve got a good eye for detail."

Ruslan watched me while I watched my book. Our shadows danced against the walls, stretched long by the encroaching fire.

"Can I ask a question too? Just for my own reference," I said, still not looking up.

Ruslan gave a silent nod for me to go ahead.

"Why go through all the trouble? You never struck me as the type to be into this kind of thing."

"Why, you ask? Well... it’s a bit of a long story." Ruslan crossed his arms and stared into the flames. "Once upon a time, I stood at the very top. This was back before you were even born."

"I heard you won the Bushin Festival once."

"The Bushin Festival? Please. That's nowhere near the top. The true summit lies much further beyond that. Not that a boy like you would ever understand."

He laughed. It wasn't even a mean laugh; he just sounded tired.

"Shortly after I reached the peak, I fell ill. I had to retire. The glory I’d worked so hard to achieve vanished in a heartbeat. I spent years searching for a cure, and eventually, I found a lead with an Artifact researcher named Lucreia."

"Is this going to take a while?" I asked.

"A bit. Lucreia was Sherry’s mother. She was a brilliant woman—too brilliant, actually. The Academic Society hated her for it. But her knowledge was top-tier, and her social isolation made her the perfect tool. I funded her research and gathered various Artifacts for her.

She focused on the science; I focused on the results. She didn't care about money or fame, so we got along great. That was when I finally found it: the 'Eye of Avarice.' The one Artifact I truly needed.

But then Lucreia... that stupid woman... she started claiming the Eye of Avarice was too dangerous. She wanted to hand it over to the government. So, I killed her. I started by stabbing her in the extremities, working my way toward the center. Finally, I ran her through the heart and gave the blade a nice, slow twist."

I closed my eyes, keeping the book open in my lap.

"The Eye of Avarice was mine, but the research was incomplete," Ruslan continued. "Luckily, a replacement fell right into my lap: Lucreia’s daughter, Sherry. She was so innocent, so trusting. She worked herself to the bone for me, never suspecting for a second that I was the one who murdered her mother. She’s a sweet, sweet, foolish girl.

Thanks to those two, the Eye of Avarice is finally complete. All I had to do was set the stage to harvest some Magic Power and find a decent scapegoat. Today... today is the day my wish finally comes true."

He let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "So, was that helpful 'reference' for you?"

I opened my eyes. "I think I've got the gist of it. Just one thing though."

"Speak."

"Is it really true? That you killed Sherry’s mom and just used her as a tool?" I finally closed the book and looked him dead in the eye.

"Every word. Why? You angry, Cid-kun?"

"I wonder..." I looked down for a moment. "See, I make a very clear distinction between things that are important to me and things that aren't."

"And why is that?"

"So I don't get distracted. There’s something I’ve wanted to achieve since I was a kid, and it’s always felt incredibly far away. To get there, I had to start whittling things down."

"Whittling them down?"

"Most people add things to their lives as they grow up. Friends, lovers, jobs... it just keeps piling up. I did the opposite. I cut things away. I don't need this, I don't need that. I threw away everything until only the things I absolutely couldn't live without remained. I live for those few precious things. Everything else? To be honest, I couldn't care less what happens to it."

I stood up and tossed my book into the fireplace.

"So you're saying you don't care about a 'foolish' mother and daughter?"

"Not exactly. I said I relatively don't care. That doesn't mean I don't care at all. Right now, for instance... I'm feeling pretty damn displeased."

I drew the sword at my hip.

"Let's get this over with. If we take too long, we're going to have company."

"Agreed. A shame, really. This is where we part ways."

Ruslan stood up and drew his own blade.

Two steel edges caught the firelight for a fraction of a second, and then it was over.

Ruslan’s sword ripped through my chest. Blood sprayed across the room.

The force of the blow sent me crashing through the door and into the burning hallway. The Crimson Flames swallowed me whole in an instant, hiding my body from view.

"Farewell, boy."

Ruslan sheathed his sword, oblivious to the fire now roaring into the office. He turned on his heel to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"---!"

A low, vibrating voice that seemed to echo from the depths of the abyss stopped him cold. Ruslan spun around to find a JET-BLACK MAN standing in the hallway.

He wore a deep hood, a Magician's Mask, and a Jet-black Longcoat that was currently engulfed in flames. He didn't seem to notice or care that he was literally on fire as he drew a Jet-black Blade.

"You...!"

Ruslan leveled his sword at the newcomer.

"My name is Shadow. I lurk in the shadows... and I hunt the shadows..."

"So, you are Shadow..."

Ruslan held his blade ready. Shadow just stood there, his Jet-black Blade dangling loosely at his side. They stared each other down for a long moment before Ruslan finally broke the tension by stepping back.

"I see. You're the real deal."

"Hoh..."

"I’ve lived by the sword my whole life. One look at you tells me everything I need to know. Specifically, that the odds are currently against me. I suppose I'll have to go all out."

Ruslan pulled a Red Pill from his pocket and swallowed it. Then, he produced the Eye of Avarice and its Control Device.

"The Eye of Avarice only shows its true worth when the two pieces are joined. Like this."

There was a mechanical click as the Artifacts snapped together.

Immediately, they erupted with a blinding radiance. Ancient Letters of White Light spiraled out from the device, filling the room. Ruslan gave a manic sneer and pressed the glowing Artifact into his own chest.

"In this moment, I am reborn!"

The Artifact sank into his chest as if he were made of water, passing through his clothes and skin with ease.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Ruslan clawed at his chest, letting out a primal roar. The Ancient Letters of Light swarmed him, branding themselves into his flesh. A final, violent flash turned the entire room white.

When the light faded, Ruslan was on one knee, white smoke hissing off his skin. As he slowly stood up, I could see fine Letters of Light etched into his face like glowing tattoos.

"Incredible... simply incredible... The power is returning... my illness is gone!"

He unleashed a burst of Magic Power so violent it made the surrounding flames shiver. The glowing script covered his face, his neck, and his hands.

"Can you feel it? This raging power! This is Magic Power that transcends the very limits of humanity!"

Ruslan sneered at me. "I think I’ll start by testing it on you."

He vanished.

A split second later, he appeared behind me, swinging his sword in a wide arc.

A sharp clang echoed through the room, the shockwave rattling the very air.

"Hoh. You actually blocked that."

I hadn't even turned around. I'd stopped his blade with my Jet-black Blade behind my back. Ruslan tried to put his weight into it, but my sword didn't budge a single millimeter.

"I suppose I was underestimating you. How about this then?"

Ruslan vanished again.

The room filled with the rapid-fire sound of clashing steel.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

With every strike, I moved my blade just a few inches. Minimal movement, maximum efficiency. On the fourth strike, Ruslan reappeared in front of me.

"To think you can keep up with this. Fine. I admit it—you're strong." He gave me a smug, confident smile. "Out of respect for that strength, I’ll show you my true power."

Ruslan shifted his stance. He raised his sword high, channeling a massive amount of Magic Power into the steel. The blade glowed with a blinding white light, creating a Vortex of Magic Power that sucked in the surrounding air.

"Take pride in the fact that you forced me to get serious... in the afterlife!"

He swung. It was a strike of incredible speed and power.

And I caught it effortlessly.

"What?!"

Our blades ground against each other, throwing off a shower of sparks.

"You... you stopped even that?!"

"Is that it?" I asked, looking him right in the eye at point-blank range. "I expected more."

"Guh... I’m just getting started!"

Ruslan’s sword work accelerated. His blade left beautiful white afterimages in the air as he danced around me.

"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

He let out a war cry, unleashing a flurry of white slashes. I parried every single one of them with my Jet-black Blade.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

The sound of our clashing blades became a rhythmic, frantic melody against the backdrop of the burning building. It was almost poetic.

But all songs have to end.

I swung my blade through his guard, sending Ruslan flying. He crashed through a desk and rolled across the floor.

"Guh... I-impossible...!"

Ruslan struggled to his feet, clutching his side. His wounds were healing instantly, but the glow of the Ancient Letters on his skin was starting to flicker.

"I didn't think I'd have to work this hard. Kuku... you're impressive. But it doesn't matter how strong you are. You've already lost."

"Lost? How so?"

"Hmph. I’ve already made sure Shadow Garden will take the fall for everything that happened here. The evidence, the witnesses—I’ve prepared it all. You can be the strongest man in the world, and it won't save you from the reputation I've built for you."

Ruslan sneered, his face twisting into something truly ugly.

But I started laughing. A low, gravelly chuckle bubbled up from behind my mask.

"What's so funny?"

"It’s just comical that you think something that trivial could ever be the 'end' for us."

"Sore loser talk," Ruslan spat.

I just shook my head. He really doesn't get it.

"We never walked the path of justice. But we don't walk the path of evil, either. We simply walk our own path."

I let my burning Jet-black Longcoat flutter in the draft.

"If you think you can do it, then go ahead. Bring the weight of every sin in the world down upon us. We'll take it all. But it won't change a thing. We will still do what we must do."

"You’re saying you’d take on the whole world without a second thought? That’s pure arrogance, Shadow!"

"Then try and crush it."

Ruslan charged with a roar. He brought his white sword down in a vertical overhead strike.

The blade moved toward my head—and then suddenly veered off course.

"What?!"

Blood sprayed.

I had thrust my Jet-black Blade straight through Ruslan's right wrist.

He immediately tried to switch the sword to his left hand as he retreated.

"Impossible!"

I thrust again, impaling his left wrist.

I didn't give him a chance to breathe. I unleashed a barrage of high-speed thrusts that he couldn't even track with his eyes. Ruslan couldn't even attempt a counter; he could only stand there as I painted him red.

Wrists. Ankles. Forearms. Thighs. I pierced him a hundred times in a hundred different places.

The strikes slowly began to migrate toward the center of his body.

"Stabbing from the extremities toward the center..." I whispered, my voice cutting through the sound of the impacts.

"And finally, piercing and twisting the heart... wasn't that the plan?"

As I spoke, my Jet-black Blade punched straight through Ruslan's chest.

"Wha...!!"

Ruslan coughed up a mouthful of blood. He grabbed the blade embedded in his chest, trying to pull it out, staring at me in desperation. Our eyes met—mine hidden behind the mask, his wide with realization.

"You... you're Ci—!"

Before he could finish the name, I twisted the blade.

"Gah... Agah... Aah...!"

I ripped the sword out, and a fountain of blood hit the floor. The light in Ruslan’s eyes went out, and the Ancient Letters on his skin faded away.

What was left was just the corpse of a scrawny, old man.

Then, I heard a sound. Small, frantic footsteps.

"Father...?"

I turned around, my cloak and mask splattered with blood. Standing there was a girl with peach-colored hair.

"FATHEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRR!!"

Sherry ran right past me, throwing herself onto Ruslan’s body.

"No... Father, why?! How could this...!!"

She sobbed, clinging to the thin corpse, but her adoptive father was long gone. Her tears dripped onto his cold face.

I looked down at her for a moment, then turned my back.

"You’re better off not knowing..."

I walked away, disappearing into the depths of the Crimson Flames with the sound of her heartbreaking sobs ringing in my ears.