Chapter 100: THE FINAL BATTLE

Kai stepped away from the base—with Leonhard leaning on his shoulder, with blood still dripping from the wound on the old man’s side. Drip... drip... Those drops fell to the ground—wetting the wild grass growing along the trail. Kai didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see the tattooed man—didn’t want to see what would happen at the threshold of the base. But there was something bothering him. Something tickling at the corner of his mind—like a name on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t say.

He had seen that man before. He was sure of it. But where? When?

His face—half-covered by a hat—but there was something in his jaw, in the way he stood, in the way he smiled. Kai had seen that smile before. Kai had heard that voice before. But every time he tried to remember—fog. Just fog.

"Kai..." Leonhard’s voice—soft, barely audible.

Kai turned. Leonhard’s face was growing paler—paler than before. His lips were dry—cracked at the corners. His eyes—half-closed, with unfocused vision. And his body—his body felt heavier than it should, like someone slowly losing the strength to stand.

"Leonhard," Kai said. "Are you still with me?"

Leonhard didn’t answer. His head drooped—his chin touching his chest—and his breath—his breath was getting slower. Too slow.

"Leonhard!" Kai shook the man’s shoulder—gently, carefully. "Hey! Don’t sleep! Open your eyes!"

No answer. Only breath growing weaker—like a candle almost burned out.

Kai lowered Leonhard to the ground—slowly, carefully—and he crouched beside him. He patted the man’s cheek—twice, three times—but there was no reaction. Leonhard’s eyes remained closed. His face remained pale. The blood on his side was still flowing—slower than before, but still flowing.

Kai reached into his pocket. His own phone—he had left it at school, in the teachers’ room. But Leonhard—Leonhard always carried his phone. Kai felt the man’s jacket pockets—inner pocket, outer pocket—and he found it. A small phone with a cracked screen in the left corner. Kai pressed the power button—the screen lit up—and he opened the contact list.

Reina.

He pressed the call button. The call connected—ring... ring... ring—and Kai waited. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

"Leonhard?" Reina’s voice on the other end—tense, with an unusual tone. "Leonhard, what happened? I’ve been trying to reach you since earlier—"

"Reina." Kai cut in. "This is Kai."

Silence. Only the sound of Reina’s held breath—hff—and the sound of something in the background—maybe a chair moving, maybe a door closing.

"Kai?" Reina’s voice was softer now. "Why are you using Leonhard’s phone? Where’s Leonhard? What happened?"

"Leonhard is wounded," Kai said. "Gunshot wound on his side. He’s lost a lot of blood. I need you—"

"Where are you?" Reina cut in. Her voice had changed—no longer tense, but cold. Cold like a doctor handling a patient. "Tell me your location. Now."

"The small hill behind Leonhard’s base," Kai said. "Do you know the place?"

"I know it." Reina’s voice paused for a moment. "Kai—"

Kai closed his phone. Click. He put it back in Leonhard’s pocket—and he returned his focus to the old man. His breath was still there—weak, but still there. Kai grabbed Leonhard’s arm and placed it over his shoulder—lifting the man again—and he continued his steps. Faster now. More steady.

The trail curved—past thinning trees, past large rocks that made him step carefully, past a small river whose water flowed slowly—murmur—and Kai could feel that water seeping into his shoes. Cold. But he didn’t care. He kept walking—with Leonhard on his shoulder, with blood still dripping, with breath getting heavier.

Then—he saw him. Roky.

The man stood in the middle of the trail—with a pistol in his hand, with a smile on his face, with eyes staring at Kai like a cat watching a mouse. Behind him—there was no one. Just him. Alone.

"Kai Arden," Roky said. His voice was calm—too calm. "I’ve been waiting for you."

Kai stopped. He lowered Leonhard—slowly—and he leaned the old man against the rock wall at the edge of the trail. Leonhard groaned—hgggh—but he didn’t open his eyes.

"You could shoot me now," Kai said. "Why don’t you?"

Roky smiled wider. "Because I want you to know first," he said. "If you and Leonhard are cooperative—if you’re willing to hand over that school—no one will get hurt. No one will die. But you—" he pointed at Kai with his pistol, "—you always choose the hard way."

Kai didn’t say anything. He just stood there—with his hands at his sides, with eyes staring at Roky—and he waited.

"You know," Roky continued, "I never wanted this to happen. I just—" he paused for a moment, "—I just wanted to be acknowledged. That’s all. I wanted someone to look at me and say ’you succeeded’. I wanted—"

Kai charged.

He didn’t wait for Roky to finish his sentence. He didn’t wait for that pistol to be aimed. He just moved—fast, with wide steps, with hands already clenched. Roky was startled—his eyes widening—but he reacted quickly. He deflected Kai’s attack with his arm—thwack—and he backed away, keeping his distance.

Kai didn’t give him time. He attacked again—a kick toward Roky’s stomach. But Roky dodged—to the side, with trained movements—and he countered with a punch toward Kai’s face. Kai ducked—the punch passed over his hair—and he responded with an attack toward Roky’s ribs. Roky deflected—but Kai had expected it. He twisted his body and kicked Roky’s leg—making the man lose his balance.

Roky backed away. He wiped the corner of his mouth—which was bleeding—and he smiled. "Good," he said. "You really are as good as they say."

Kai didn’t answer. He attacked again—faster this time, more brutal. He hit Roky’s stomach—thud—and Roky doubled over. But before Kai could attack again—Roky had already risen and countered—a punch to Kai’s face—smack—and Kai felt something warm dripping from his nose.

They separated. Kai wiped his nose—blood—and he stared at Roky. The man—the man was also wounded. His lips were bleeding. His eyes—his left eye—was starting to swell. But he was still standing. Still smiling.

"They say you’re a monster," Roky said. "But you’re just human. A human who can bleed. A human who can tire."

Kai didn’t say anything. He attacked again.

The fight lasted a long time. Too long. Kai lost count—how many times he hit, how many times he was hit. His face—his face felt hot, with blood drying at the corner of his lips, with bruises starting to swell on his cheek. His stomach—his stomach hurt every time he drew breath—maybe Roky had managed to hit him several times. But Roky wasn’t any better. His nose—his nose was bleeding, and the blood flowed to his mouth, to his chin, dripping to the floor. His eyes—his left eye—could no longer open.

They separated again. Their breath was heavy—hff... hff...—and their bodies trembled. Kai could feel his legs—his legs starting to tire. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

"Who sent you?" Kai asked. His voice was hoarse.

Roky laughed—a bitter laugh, which turned into a cough—cough. "No one sent me," he said. "I’m doing this—" he paused for a moment, "—because I want to be acknowledged. I want someone to look at me and say ’you succeeded’. I want—"

"Who?" Kai cut in. "Who do you want to make proud?"

Roky looked at him—for a long time, with eyes that could still open. Then he spat—blood, red, thick—onto the ground. "Beat me first," he said. "If you want to know."

Kai attacked. He attacked with all the remaining strength he had—with quick punches, with brutal kicks. Roky held on—for a few seconds—but Kai didn’t give him time to breathe. He hit Roky’s ribs—thud—and he heard something crack—krak—and Roky screamed—aaah—but Kai didn’t stop. He grabbed Roky’s arm—twisted it—krak—and Roky screamed again, louder.

"WHO?" Kai asked—his voice loud, with heavy breath.

Roky didn’t answer. He just stared at Kai—with eyes still open, with blood flowing from his nose, from his mouth, from the wound on his head—and he smiled. A weak smile. A smile like someone who had already surrendered.

"Viel," he said—his voice barely audible.

Kai froze. "What?"

Roky drew a breath—his last breath, maybe—and he repeated it. "Viel."

Kai stared at him—for a long time, with wide eyes, with hands still gripping Roky’s broken arm. "Who is Viel?"

But Roky was no longer answering. His eyes—his eyes were still open, but there was nothing there. No light. No life. Just—emptiness.

Kai released Roky’s arm—slowly—and he stood. He stared at the man’s body—lying on the ground, with a broken arm, with a broken leg, with blood flowing to the earth—and he felt something cold in his chest. Not victory. Not satisfaction. Just—emptiness.

He turned and walked toward Leonhard—still leaning against the rock wall, with breath still weak, with blood still dripping. Kai grabbed the man’s arm and placed it over his shoulder—lifting him again—and he continued his steps. Faster now. The small hill—the small hill wasn’t far.

He reached that hill when the sun started to rise—with the sky orange on the eastern horizon, with dew clinging to the grass, with the wind blowing softly—whoosh. Reina was already waiting. The woman stood under a large tree—with a wrinkled white jacket, with messy hair, with a pale face. When she saw Kai—when she saw Leonhard on Kai’s shoulder, with blood soaking the entire side of the old man’s body—her eyes widened.

"Kai!" Reina ran toward him. "What happened?!"

Kai lowered Leonhard—slowly, carefully—and he handed the old man to Reina. "He’s badly wounded," he said. "Gunshot wound on his side. He’s lost a lot of blood."

Reina examined Leonhard—with trained hands, with sharp eyes—and she nodded. "We have to get him to a safe place. I have a hidden room—not far from here. There are medical supplies there."

Kai nodded. He helped Reina lift Leonhard—and they walked along the hill—slowly, carefully. Reina had many questions—Kai could see them in her eyes—but she didn’t ask. Not now. Not here.

They reached a wooden door hidden behind bushes—an old door, with rusted hinges—and Reina opened it. Creak. Inside—stairs leading down. Dark. But Reina had already lit a lamp—an oil lamp illuminating the narrow passage—and she led Kai inside.

"Put him here," Reina said—she pointed to a folding bed in the corner of the room. The room was small—with a wooden table, with a medicine cabinet, with a few chairs—but clean. Neat.

Kai placed Leonhard on the bed—slowly—and he stepped back. Reina had already opened the medicine cabinet—taking bandages, antiseptic, needle, thread—and she started working. Her hands—her hands moved quickly, trained, without hesitation.

Kai stood in the corner of the room—with his hands at his sides, with blood still dripping from the wound on his face, with breath still heavy. He stared at Reina—working—and he stared at Leonhard—still unconscious. And in his head—one name kept spinning.

Viel.