THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 327: 327. RAGE

Sagiri went lower and lower, and just when he thought he could not go any lower, there was still much lower to go.

Sagiri finally reached a gate. This whole journey gave him nostalgia.

The gate was heavy, but it opened quickly. The moment Sagiri opened the gate, he was hit by warm air. A harsh contrast to the cold walls he had just walked through. Sagiri took a step inside, and he finally understood

The prison sat at the edge of a vast underground abyss. Sagiri walked deeper into the place until he was standing at the edge of the dark abyss and looked far below. A pool that stretched so far into the darkness that one could not see where it began could not be seen.

The water was unnaturally still, its black surface reflecting faint ripples he could not have seen if he had not been using his right eye at the moment. Steam rose constantly from the pool, drifting through the air in thick veils that clung to the stone and swallowed distant shapes.

The water itself was warm, almost unnaturally so, filling the cavern with a damp heat that pressed against the skin and made every breath feel heavy. Massive pillars disappeared into the darkness above, their tops hidden beyond sight, while chains thicker than tree trunks hung between them and vanished into the mist. It was clear that they had been used to chain a beat like myama. It was not here anymore, and Sagiri could tell that the beast had passed.

The prison had been carved directly into the cavern wall overlooking the endless water or just the abyss. Black stone cells lined the cliff face in uneven rows, their iron doors stained with age and moisture. How did one even get up there? There had to be a mechanism for bringing the ladders up and down. Even so, Sagiri did not have time.

He pushed the archive out, and the massive invisible structure answered. It concentrated on his feet. The structure hummed as it rose with sagiri until he was standing just over the abyss pool. Galka had one of these, and now this place also had one. The coincidences were getting way too much for Sagiri to ignore.

The cells were not occupied as Sagiri looked from one to another until he reached the last cell at the edge.

How stubborn.

He was sure the man had heard him coming, yet his presence was the same as the pool below. Oddly silent.

Koru’Zalanko

The man sat alone within the cell, his back resting against the cold stone wall as though the prison around him held no power over him. Years of confinement had left their mark upon the chamber, but remarkably little upon the man himself. His frame remained broad and powerful, almost like the man who had carried him north. The muscles beneath his now weathered skin still carried the strength of a warrior who had once crossed deserts to take him north.

Long silver-streaked hair fell past his shoulders, untamed yet strangely dignified, while a thick beard framed a face carved by hardship rather than defeated by it. Deep lines surrounded his eyes. His wrists bore the scars of chains, and his clothing had long since faded from its original color, yet he sat with quiet confidence.

Or perhaps the silence of a man who had died but still lived. A man who had lost his master and did not have a purpose to live anymore. There was something immovable about him. The years had taken comforts, freedom, and companionship, but they had failed to bend his spirit.

Sagiri could not fathom what he was feeling at the moment, but it was not one emotion. Anger simmered within him, nostalgia, pain, and many feelings he had never experienced to such a level.

What a cruel fate! What had the man done to deserve such a fate? Lost his master then imprisoned.

The South was going to pay for this. Sagiri trembled with rage. How dare they!

They were no better than the North.

The longer Sagiri stared at the man in the cell, the more he felt something inside him crack. For a long moment, he couldn’t identify the emotion. Then another followed. And another. Anger. Disbelief. Resentment. Confusion. They crashed together until one feeling rose above the rest. Rage.

Not the hot, reckless rage of battle he had experienced before. Something colder and deeper. The kind that burned every rational thought inside of him. His jaw tightened. The air around him seemed to grow heavier. Without realizing it, his fingers slowly opened at his side.

The reaction was immediate.

The Archive beneath him split apart with a violent shriek. Darkness tore through the chamber, and Nokai exploded from it like a living thing answering a call. The silver blade shot forward with enough force to split the steam hanging over the pool before stopping abruptly beside Sagiri. It rose vertically until its hilt aligned perfectly with his open hand with a snap. Responding to the fury pouring from him.

The cavern fell silent save for the distant sound of dripping water. Nokai hovered there, humming softly with restrained violence, as though it could feel every ounce of its master’s rage and stood ready to unleash it upon whatever target he chose. Sagiri had never hated a place he wished he could call home so much.

Wasn’t the man sitting in front of him supposed to be celebrated as a hero?

The archive moved, pushing Sagiri closer to the cell. Sagiri pushed his hoodie back and let it rest on his shoulders. His hand reached out, and the moment he touched the railings of the wall, he felt them. Those power-sucking string-like things, the ones used in the seventh wing, were laced into the bars.

Sagiri hissed and pulled his hand back immediately.

The man finally moved after sagiri hissed. Slowly, almost lazily, his eyes opened.

Sagiri froze.

They were white. Completely white. No pupils. No visible iris. Just like N’varu’s whenever he surrendered himself fully to his clan art. Yet there was something vastly different about these eyes. They held none of N’varu’s wildness. No mischief. No youthful arrogance. They were calm. The weight of countless years. His gaze settled upon Sagiri immediately, as though he had known he was there the entire time.

Neither spoke. The steam drifted silently between them while Nokai hovered at Sagiri’s side. Moments passed. Then more. Two strangers stared across a prison cell, both knowing they were anything but strangers. The rage inside Sagiri remained. Yet beneath it, something else began to grow.

Calmness.

Silence.

Silence stretched far and wide until finally the man parted his lips slowly.

”You shouldn’t have come.”

His voice carried an echo across the underground place. His words carried no emotion either. Yet Sagiri could feel that he meant every word.