"Ugh… Walking all the way to the city? I think I'll use my speed," Kael muttered in frustration.
He had barely left his small village when he took a runner's stance. His eyes locked forward with determination.
Then, he ran.
His speed was so astonishing that a cloud of dust trailed behind him. The scenery blurred as he moved like lightning.
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Ten minutes later, he arrived at the gates of San Boreal, breathing heavily, his heart pounding.
"Phew… I got here too fast," he said, catching his breath. "Alright, now what? If they're looking for me, I should cover my face… but with what?"
As he pondered, he walked through the city with his arm over his face, trying to stay unnoticed. Spotting a nearby clothing store, he entered without hesitation.
"Hello… Can I buy a cap and some sunglasses?"
Minutes later, he walked out wearing a gray cap and dark shades. He put them on immediately as he melted into the crowd.
"This should make it harder for them to recognize me… But still, what am I supposed to do? I don't want to become a killer."
He paused on the sidewalk, hands gripping his head, overwhelmed by pressure and the chaos in his mind.
"This is all Ismael's fault… Damn you. I don't know where you are, but I swear I'll find you," he growled under his breath.
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He kept walking aimlessly until, suddenly, a mansion caught his eye. Grand, imposing. And familiar.
"That's… Ismael's mansion? He still lives here? Should I get closer?" he thought, tension climbing up his spine.
He approached the gate slowly—it was closed.
"Locked… How can I see what's inside?"
Just then, the gate opened. Kael instinctively stepped back, slipping into a defensive stance.
A man with a rifle and a balaclava stepped out, eyes sharp and hostile.
"Hey, asshole! What the hell are you doing here? Get lost before you regret it!"
"Sorry, sir. I was just… curious. It's a beautiful mansion," Kael replied with forced calm.
The man stared at him for a few seconds, then returned inside and shut the gate behind him.
Kael smiled—but not with joy. It was a bitter, tense smile.
"So you are still here. It terrifies me. I wasn't born to kill, but I have to do it if I want to survive."
His body trembled. He tried to steady himself. Took a deep breath.
"I can do this. They deserve it. You've got this, Kael."
He lowered his bag and pulled out his sword. Gripping it with both hands, he stared at it intently.
"I'm going to survive… Come on, Kael. Don't be afraid."
He marched to the gate. With resolve, he rang the bell.
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The same guard stepped out again.
"What the hell do you want now, idiot?"
Kael didn't answer. In a single, swift motion, his sword pierced the guard's chest. The strike was so clean and fast, the man didn't even react.
Blood gushed out. The guard, eyes wide, tried to grasp the blade with both hands, but strength left his body. He collapsed, lifeless.
Kael stood silently, face marked by sadness and remorse.
"What am I becoming?" he whispered, shaking his head.
Another guard appeared at the entrance. He saw the corpse and shouted:
"Shit!"
He raised his weapon—but Kael was already in motion. In a blink, the sword severed both his hands. The gun fell, still clutched by detached fingers.
"AAAAAH! My hands!" the man screamed, dropping to his knees.
Kael didn't hesitate. A clean slash ended it—decapitation. The body crumpled, blood soaking the ground. The head rolled and stopped near Kael, who stepped back in horror.
"Why… why do I have to keep doing this?" he cried to the sky, filled with rage and pain.
With all his might, he swung his sword through the air. A single slash—but the released wave was devastating. The wind surged like an invisible explosion, obliterating the mansion's entrance. As if a hurricane had struck.
Kael stared at his sword, still unable to fully grasp it.
"So this is why… it's called the Wind Blade. Incredible…"
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The deafening noise alerted nearby residents. People started to gather, some pulling out their phones to record.
"No… no way. They're filming! They can't find out what I'm capable of. Ismael… damn you, you got lucky today."
He shoved the sword back into his bag and took off, vanishing into the city streets.
Within minutes, the police arrived at the scene. They examined the bodies, the destruction, and the footage on bystanders' phones.
"Good afternoon. What happened here?"
One of the witnesses pointed down the street.
"That guy! He just ran off that way!"
The officers looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of someone disappearing into the crowd.
"There he is! Go, go—after him!"