The Last Bargain

Chapter XXXVI: The Strength Of Allies

Zento stood in the courtyard, his breath steadying as the last remnants of heat dissipated from his body. He had assumed a running stance moments earlier, ready to charge forward with all the speed he could muster. But now, he stood up straight, letting his arms fall to his sides. His clan members, encircling him, glanced at one another in confusion. A murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd. Even his father, Takeshi Dassou, raised an eyebrow, a cold smile playing at his lips.

"Have you given up, Zento?" one of the warriors jeered, a mocking laugh escaping their lips. "Is this your idea of a final stand?"

Another clan member scoffed, shaking their head. "He's finally realized how hopeless it is," they muttered. "Pathetic."

A chorus of laughter rose from the gathered clan members, their eyes gleaming with amusement at what they perceived as Zento's surrender. Even Takeshi's smile widened, his stance relaxed, as if he had already won.

But Zento's eyes remained fixed on his father. He felt a calm resolve settle over him, a sense of clarity he had never felt before. The laughter around him seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the rhythm of his own heartbeat. He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and then spoke, his voice steady and clear, cutting through the derision like a blade.

"Father," Zento began, his gaze unwavering, "I may never break past my limits. Each of you may be stronger than me, faster, more skilled. I've spent my life trying to meet the expectations of this clan, trying to prove my worth in your eyes."

The laughter around him began to die down, a few murmurs of surprise filtering through the crowd. Takeshi's smile faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched his son.

Zento continued, his voice growing stronger with every word. "But I've realized something today... something you may never understand. True strength isn't just about what I can do alone. It's not just about my individual power. It's about the bonds I've formed, the allies I've made, the friends who stand by me even when I falter."

He gestured to Shin, who was still standing beside him, bruised and bloodied but unyielding. "My friends... they save me when I cannot save myself. They lift me up when I fall. I don't need to be the strongest on my own because together, our combined strength is greater than any single warrior."

He took a step forward, his eyes still locked on Takeshi. "So, yes, I admit my weakness. I acknowledge that I might never be as powerful as you... as any of you," he said, his voice calm but filled with conviction. "But I know this: the strength we share, the trust we have in one another—that is a force that can conquer anything. Even you, Father."

For a moment, there was silence. The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath. The mocking smiles of the warriors began to falter, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. Takeshi's expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"You admit your weakness..." Takeshi murmured, his voice low, as if trying to process what he had just heard.

Then, a strange ripple passed through the crowd. One by one, the figures of the Dassou clan members began to flicker, their forms shimmering like mirages. Zento watched, astonished, as the warriors around him started to crack, their bodies splitting like glass under pressure. His father's figure, once so solid and imposing, began to fracture, lines spreading across his face and body like the surface of a mirror breaking.

The warriors shattered, one by one, into thousands of glittering fragments, disappearing into the mist with soft, echoing sounds. Takeshi was the last to remain, his stern eyes fixed on Zento.

"You admit your weakness," Takeshi repeated, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful, as cracks began to form on his body. "And in doing so... you find strength."

His body splintered, breaking away into a thousand pieces, each shard catching the light like a rain of stars. The courtyard fell silent, the mist swirling around Zento and Shin, the warriors of the Dassou clan gone as if they had never been there.

Zento felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a deep breath filling his lungs. He turned to Shin, who was standing beside him, a small smile on his face despite his bruises.

"Well said," Shin murmured, giving a slight nod. "You really meant that, didn't you?"

Zento nodded, feeling a new sense of calm settle over him. "I did," he replied softly. "I think... I finally understand."

But before either of them could say another word, the mist around them thickened, swirling faster, taking on a crimson hue. The ground trembled, and then, like a curtain being drawn aside, the mist parted to reveal a vision—an image so vivid, it felt almost real.

There, in a dark, shadowy expanse, they saw Raito. He stood alone, his body covered in a thousand small cuts, each one oozing blood. His clothes were torn, stained with dirt and sweat. At his feet, a pool of crimson blood was slowly expanding, darkening the ground beneath him. His eyes were unfocused, filled with pain and determination, his face pale and drawn.

Shin's breath caught in his throat. "Raito..."

Zento felt his heart clench at the sight. "What is he...?" he began, but before he could finish, the vision flickered and vanished, swallowed up by the mist.

In its place, a portal appeared, swirling with a deep, dark light. It pulsed with an eerie energy, a gateway to whatever awaited them next.

Zento and Shin exchanged a quick glance, each reading the determination in the other's eyes. They knew what they had to do.

Without a word, they stepped toward the portal, their bodies tense but ready. Together, they walked into the darkness, ready to face whatever trials lay ahead, knowing they were stronger for having each other.