"We've played enough; it's time for you to die," Prince Khane declared, his voice calm yet resolute. He stretched out his hand, his fingers curling ever so slightly as though commanding the very elements.
From below the cliff, water began to surge upward, swirling into the air in defiance of gravity. It responded to his will, encircling him like a liquid shield, its movements smooth yet menacing. The air became charged with energy as the Invisible Ghost's attacks faltered.
The Invisible Ghost froze, his one uncovered eye widening in disbelief. "You... you're not ordinary," he stammered, his voice carrying a tremor of shock.
Prince Khane's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. Bowing his head slightly, he whispered a single word: "Water." Then, lifting his gaze with an almost divine authority, he commanded, "To fire."
The water glimmered for a moment before it began to change, its crystalline surface flickering with orange and red hues. Steam hissed as the transformation completed, the liquid becoming a roaring inferno. With a mere flick of his wrist, Prince Khane controlled the flames as if they were an extension of himself.
"This... how can water turn into fire?" Prince Khane wondered to himself, the memory of the moment catching him off guard. "This is... incredible."
The inferno surged forward, aimed directly at the Invisible Ghost. In desperation, the assassin conjured a shield of radiant red light, crafted from his internal strength. The shimmering barrier held for a moment against the onslaught, but his movements showed cracks in confidence.
The Invisible Ghost attempted to vanish again, hoping to escape the relentless flames. But Prince Khane's piercing gaze followed his every move. The fire coiled and twisted, encircling the ghost in a fiery trap.
"I knew you weren't disappearing," Prince Khane remarked coldly. "You're just quick. If you try that again, this fire will chase you—or consume you."
The Invisible Ghost staggered, his breath quickening as he struggled to keep the barrier intact. "What... are you?" he managed to choke out, his voice strained under the pressure.
Prince Khane's response was nonchalant. "Me?" He tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes lifting toward the sky. As if in response, the sun burned brighter, its rays cascading around him like a heavenly spotlight.
"I'm just a nameless person you never should have crossed paths with," he said, his voice calm yet unyielding.
A spark of realization danced in his mind. "I was right!" Prince Khane thought to himself, his excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "It's a memory! I'm remembering who I was."
With a subtle gesture, Prince Khane amplified his attack, the surge of energy overwhelming the Invisible Ghost's defenses. The force struck like a tempest, slamming the assassin into the trees with a resounding crash. Branches snapped, and he tumbled to the ground, spewing blood. He struggled weakly to rise, but his strength deserted him, leaving him crumpled and vulnerable.
Desperately attempting to escape, the Invisible Ghost was met with something far more terrifying—a serpentine creature of fire materializing from the dissipating flames. The fiery serpent writhed and chased him, striking with lethal precision. It pierced his stomach, creating a gaping hole that left his body frozen in shock. His wide eyes reflected his realization, and then... lifeless, he collapsed.
The fire receded, leaving behind nothing but an eerie silence. Prince Khane stood motionless for a moment, gazing at his palm, his expression one of fascination. "I've only just learned this technique and didn't expect its power to be so potent. How fascinating," he mused aloud, his voice steady yet layered with intrigue.
"That move..." he continued, his thoughts sharpening. "I heard I was in phase 8, but this... this feels beyond it. It's as if I've breached the threshold of sovereign power." Determination flickered in his eyes. "I'll do anything to regain my essence."
His sword, as if attuned to him, returned like a boomerang. With fluid precision, he raised his hand and caught it mid-air, his fingers tightening around the hilt. Surveying the battlefield, his gaze lingered on the lifeless bodies of the assassins scattered before him. Blood dripped from the sword's edge, marking the violent end of the clash.
"Are you done already, my wife?" he said with a small, amused smile, speaking to the blade as though it were alive. His eyes swept across the carnage. "You're naughty," he added with a faint chuckle, shaking his head slightly.
Descending to the ground, the sword trembled slightly in his hand, as though responding to his words. "You did well. Very good," Prince Khane said, his tone one of approval and satisfaction.
But his focus shifted, his gaze narrowing. "I hope there's at least one alive to question," he said, his voice dropping into something more resolute. "We need to know who had the audacity to try to stress me today. I have a visitor coming… how will I explain this mess?"
A flicker of curiosity danced through his mind. "I wonder… who this visitor is?" he thought inwardly, the question sparking a moment of reflection.
Standing at the cliff's edge, Prince Khane extended his hand and summoned the body of one of the assassins. The man was dragged forward by an unseen force, his battered frame helpless against the command. Blood gurgled from his mouth, staining his already torn attire.
"Who paid you to kill me?" Prince Khane demanded, his voice calm yet charged with authority. His crimson gaze bore into the assassin's trembling form. "Tell me, and I'll spare your life. Wife, obey my command—don't kill this one. He will be our messenger."
The assassin's lips quivered, his face contorted in pain and terror. "It's... it's... it's..." he stammered, struggling against his fear to speak.
"Speak fast; I need to clean this place," Prince Khane demanded, his patience fraying as he loomed over the wounded assassin.
The assassin struggled to speak, his voice weak and faltering. "At Bacain... cliff... on the... first day... of this week... there will be... a young... man... in a blue robe."
Prince Khane's eyes narrowed, his mind immediately racing to decipher the meaning behind the fragmented words. "How is that...?" he started, but his voice faded as a sharp realization struck him. His body stiffened, and a tremor coursed through him.
His breath caught as the pieces began to align. He had only written those same words in a letter to one person—Eyrin. His old friend.
"Eyrin sent you to kill me?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone, his voice laced with something deeper—hurt. The words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken memories.
"Eyrin... was the visitor?" Khane's thoughts churned, confusion and pain rippling through his mind. "Were we so close that hearing that he betrayed me makes my chest ache? It feels like a wound that reopened. We were friends. But after I lost my memories, why did he treat me so differently?"
He paused, his mind reaching for clarity. "This wasn't ten years ago. It was months ago. What happened between us?"
Distracted, Prince Khane's defenses wavered. The assassin, driven by fear and desperation, seized the moment. Summoning his remaining strength, he lunged at Khane with his blade, slashing repeatedly. Prince Khane didn't move, his thoughts still tethered to the revelation.
With one final push, the assassin struck, sending Khane tumbling over the edge of the cliff. As he fell, the assassin grabbed hold of his blue robe, tearing a piece of fabric away as he sneered triumphantly.
While suspended in the air, time seemed to slow for Prince Khane. The rush of wind surrounded him, but his mind was elsewhere. A surge of memories flooded his consciousness, like a cascade of light breaking through a shrouded sky.
He saw the palace—the gleaming halls of his childhood. Images of himself as a prince flashed vividly. He saw himself and Eyrin, sitting together, reading and laughing as children. He remembered the panic and chaos when he fled with his family from the rebels, the moment he was separated from them, and the strange kindness of a scholar who had taken him in—Elyon, who he now realized was an immortal.
More fragments emerged. Writing the letter to Eyrin. The events leading to this very moment. And his recent memories, clear as day, now aligning in a way that made sense.
Each recollection hit him with the force of a tide, relentless and unstoppable. "It's all coming back," he thought. "I'm beginning to see everything."
His body finally collided with the surface of the sea below. The cold water swallowed him whole, silencing the noise of the world above. But within his mind, the echoes of his regained memories blazed brighter than ever.