Chapter Four: Who Am I?
On the same day that the wandering swordsman Meizu met Nazo, he told him about a massive festival—an internal celebration of the Shinzohei clan.
It was the anniversary of the death of a once-prominent figure—one who, at that time, was so feared that even mentioning his name was a risk. A man who had once ruled… now believed to be gone.
Nazo didn't sleep that night, too excited for the festival he would attend with Meizu and others.
When the day finally arrived, the preparations took over every corner of Deigra Village—and the entire Shinzohei territory.
Nazo remained in his usual worn-out clothes, until Meizu told him:
"Take some of my clothes, they're in the wooden chest."
From the headquarters of the Scout Corps to Meizu's home, Nazo replied:
"I'll keep wearing what I have… I haven't changed them in a while, and I won't now."
Meizu then walked over and ripped Nazo's shirt completely, tearing it until it became nothing more than a scrap of cloth.
Nazo lowered his head and muttered with clear frustration:
"Why?
Why would you do that?
You don't know how it was made… or who made it."
Meizu stepped back, quiet, and then said softly:
"Yeah...
You don't need to explain it.
That shirt mattered to your heart—not your wallet."
---
Meanwhile, Baro...
The night before, Baro had already entered Shinzohei territory.
He had killed the guards stationed at the tall gates of the city—and replaced them with shadows shaped like men.
He summoned them to serve him, to fill their roles temporarily.
Looking over the preparations for the celebration, he muttered:
"How can you be emperor of a people celebrating your death?"
He noticed dozens of flyers and banners hung outside people's homes, with words written on them:
> "Day of Eternity...
Day of the Fifth Emperor... Baroyama."
There was no other way to interpret it—
They were celebrating his death and his supposed descent into hell.
Baro clenched his fist, anger rising in him. Two men walking nearby said:
"We never got to see the man who built Shinzohei,
but we do get to celebrate his death.
He was never one of us—
and we were never his.
His death lives in us now."
To Baro, this made no sense.
How could anyone think this way?
To rejoice in a death—not with mourning, not with respect—but with joy?
Even if they didn't believe his death was real, this day should have been a day of reflection, not festivity.
---
Baro Walks Through the Crowd
As he moved through the chaos of the festival, people began whispering:
"That's the old Shinzohei attire…
The ancient version."
No one recognized him.
Near the grand academy, where crowds were thinner, a boy was being beaten by a group of older boys.
Baro passed by and said calmly:
"If he hasn't had enough pain,
he'll grow up and make you pay."
One of the boys turned to him and sneered:
"Old folks these days… always butting in.
Who asked for your opinion?"
Baro froze for a second—"Old?"—and a memory flashed before his eyes:
A vision of himself, young, placing the emperor's crown upon his head.
In a blink—before anyone could see what happened—all the boys were on the ground.
First the one who had spoken… then the rest, fallen before they realized they had been struck.
The last thing they saw were Baro's eyes, burning with ancient fury.
He looked down at the child and said:
"Before you take another beating…
go to the paradise of Shinzohei…
or the hell of lost souls."
The child burst into tears and ran toward the light glowing in the distance.
---
Festival Chaos – Nazo and the Crowd
Merchants shouted, selling their goods—everyone hoping to make money on the big day.
Nazo arrived with Meizu and his friends:
The young noblewoman Ryota
The swordsman Ryosuke
The rest were simply escorts guarding Ryota, who belonged to the royal family.
Suddenly, Nazo's shirt tore apart—his massive chest and torso were simply too large for the fabric.
The crowd froze.
Ryota's face turned bright red.
Meizu facepalmed and muttered:
"On this day… in this crowd…
and this happens."
Ryosuke chuckled and took off one of his shirts.
"Take this—I wore two."
But as soon as Nazo put it on, it tore instantly.
There was no choice but to walk shirtless.
Every girl who passed by stared at him—his muscles were impossible to ignore.
They finally stopped at a booth selling traditional festival clothing.
Meizu asked for the price—and luckily, it was affordable without needing Ryota's royal funds.
Nazo changed into the new outfit easily.
---
The Meeting of Two Legends
Suddenly, the crowd quieted.
A man passed in front of Nazo—a man from a generation long forgotten.
A man Nazo had never heard stories about.
Baro.
They crossed paths, unknown to each other.
A meeting between two legends—one from a past erased, one whose story hadn't yet begun.
Ryota's eyes locked onto Baro—
She felt like she had seen him before.
In a photo? In a dream?
She couldn't place it.
Baro vanished—not disappeared, but moved with blinding speed.
An old woman screamed:
"He was here—and now he's gone!"
---
Baro's March Toward the Palace
What does it feel like to take a step… and realize your entire history was rewritten?
The pain. The ruin. The wars that Shinzohei endured for 20 years—
All erased, as if they never happened.
And now, Baro knew…
He had to sever the false chain linking him to the false emperor.
Yet even he doubted himself.
Could he still rule?
He had spent years absorbing the culture of a clan that never truly accepted him.
That day—
The sky wasn't grey. It was silent.
As if it knew that Baro had returned.
Even the earth beneath his feet dared not make a sound—out of respect.
Everything around him shifted slightly—not in fear, but in reverence.
For a man who had tasted war… and returned standing.
From afar, the palace of Shinzohei began to appear—
As if history itself was unfolding again.
---
The Throne Room – A Reckoning
The guards at the palace spotted him and charged.
But when they arrived—nothing.
Just wind.
One asked:
"Did you see something?"
His partner replied:
"I saw nothing."
"Then why… did our bodies move?"
Inside the palace, the false emperor, Nikishi, was preparing to step out onto the balcony and deliver his festival speech.
Just as he reached for the door—
A voice behind him whispered:
"Too bad…
Wasn't this supposed to be my day?"
Nikishi froze, drenched in sweat.
He didn't dare turn around, but his instincts screamed.
Baro… had returned.
He stuttered:
"W-what… do you mean your day…?"
Baro's voice came calm, steady:
"You have the right to ask.
But why the fear?
You're the emperor of a mighty clan…
Why do you tremble?"
Nikishi finally turned—
And saw the man he had tried to erase from history.
He collapsed.
His final words:
"Twenty years… of hiding the truth from Shinzohei."
Then came the sound—
Of flesh torn, bones crushed, and organs devoured.
Baro had removed Nikishi's heart—and eaten it.
Bit by bit, until nothing remained.
"This was your end.
Even if not by me… it would've come by someone else."
Nikishi's body turned completely pale—drained of all blood.
Baro took his scepter, his imperial robes, and walked toward the balcony.
---
A Return to Power
The crowd below roared in anticipation.
But when Baro stepped out—silence.
They realized it was not Nikishi.
Baro stood tall and declared:
"People of Shinzohei…
What I gave you all those years… cannot be reclaimed.
But every lie written into history—will be rewritten.
Even if every line must be erased."