The eastern province was colder than Rei remembered.
Not the temperature—just the feeling. The people. The silence. The way guards stared at Kael and the others, trembling behind their polished armor. Once, this city had celebrated harvest festivals with music and dance. Now? It held its breath, watching a storm walk its streets.
Rei had given them a warning.
They didn't listen.
Now he stood at the edge of their capital, watching the wind carry ashes from the village they refused to shelter. The southern refugees—hundreds of them—were denied entry. Most died in the frost.
"I gave them a chance," Rei said softly, his voice barely audible over the wind, as if trying to convince himself more than Kael.
Kael stood beside him, eyes locked on the city's golden gates. "You did."
There was no comfort in his voice. Just the truth.
The gates creaked open. An envoy stepped out—robes clean, posture rehearsed, face smug. He walked with the confidence of someone who believed they held the upper hand.
"Rei Kisaragi," the envoy began, voice loud and self-important, "we acknowledge your… strength. But if you expect submission, you'll be disappointed."
Rei said nothing. His eyes didn't waver.
The envoy smirked wider. "You're alone in this. No gods. No kings. No allies. Just a self-proclaimed sovereign of blood, carving a path of guilt and corpses."
Still, Rei remained silent. But his blood shimmered faintly around his fingertips.
"I don't want your submission," he replied at last, his voice quiet but heavy with emotion. "I wanted your humanity."
Kael stepped forward, his crimson blade unsheathed, but Rei raised a hand.
"Send in five," Rei ordered. "No bloodbath. No fire. Just… a reminder."
The blood warriors moved like shadows—silent, precise. They entered the city not to slaughter, but to unveil.
When they returned, dragging out the noble families who had hoarded supplies and denied aid, the people began to whisper. Not out of fear.
Out of guilt.
The blood soldiers didn't kill. They stood, armor soaked with memory, as Rei made his decree:
"From this day forward, the Blood Sovereign does not kill the helpless. But I do not spare the heartless."
He turned to the noble leaders, forced to kneel.
"You will feed the families you ignored. You will house the ones you left to die. Or the next time I return… I won't bring warriors. I'll bring judgment."
That night, Rei sat by the riverbank. The moon shimmered above, its reflection broken by ripples.
Kael approached, silent as ever. "You didn't kill them."
Rei didn't respond immediately. His eyes stayed on the water.
"They'll wish I had," he finally muttered. "Now they live knowing they stood by while children froze."
"You think I'm becoming the villain?"
Kael took a long pause. "I think you've become the man who no longer waits for heroes to show up."
Rei chuckled softly, but there was no joy in it.
"I'm not saving the world anymore, Kael," he said, standing up. "I'm punishing it."
In the distance, lights flickered across the land. Other cities are watching. Listening.
"They won't send armies," Kael murmured.
"No," Rei said. "They'll send gods."
He looked to the stars, blood swirling faintly around his boots.
"Let them come."