Chapter 123: [LIKE A PUPPET]

Kairo’s blade hung steady between them, the scarlet along its edge seeming to drink the cavern’s dim light.

The threads froze in midair, humming like a trapped insect. Mio’s fingers twitched—too many tiny spasms for someone who could still call himself calm.

Kairo didn’t rush. He never did.

He stepped close enough that Eli could feel the heat off him, the subtle scent of iron and something colder—like rain on metal.

He lowered his head so his voice was a whisper against Eli’s ear, quiet enough for only him to hear.

“…What happened?”

Eli swallowed. His throat scraped, unused to words. He forced out the lie because it was the easiest thing to give. “N-nothing… there wasn’t anything. No leeches. No phantoms. Nothing.” He ground his teeth against the burn and let a weak laugh trick out. “It was just… him.”

Kairo’s black eyes flicked once toward Mio, then narrowed with a tiny motion that felt like a calculation.

He watched Mio the way a predator watches a wounded animal—not out of cruelty, but to measure whether it might still bite.

“That’s strange,” Kairo said. His voice sank further, slow and deliberate. “I’ve known Mio a long time. He doesn’t snap like this. Not without reason.”

The threads shivered, silver ribbons cutting the air with a metallic whisper.

Mio’s face was wrong—too tight at the jaw, eyes bright and hollow. He moved like someone trying to keep a mask from cracking.

Kairo’s hand tightened against Eli’s ribs—protective, not rough. The pressure was small and steady; a promise you could feel. “If there was nothing ahead,” he said, slow,

“then it’s possible… something else is controlling him. Controlling someone wouldn’t necessarily give dangerous intent, no?”

Eli’s breath hitched. The thought hit like cold water.

’I didn’t even think about that.’ The idea should have been impossible, and yet the way Mio’s threads trembled in staccato spasms made the word land hard. ’Could someone—use Mio like a puppet?’

“You didn’t sense it?” Kairo asked, head tilted, like he was puzzled by the absence of a thing that should be obvious.

His eyes were flat, unreadable. “That’s exactly the problem. If you can’t sense it, then it’s hiding itself—using him as the weapon.”

Eli tried to think. He tried to dig through the static in his head—danger detection like a distant radio with the knob half-turned.

He felt the panic, the throb under his skin, the direct, animal fear. He did not feel a second presence. ’I didn’t even think about that,’ he realized. ’I was only thinking of him, not what might be inside him.’

“So what do we do?” he asked, voice small.

Kairo’s body coiled, ready. The blade in his hand caught a flare of crimson light and the air around it seemed to tighten—like a taut wire waiting to sing. He kept his eyes on Mio, but his hands worked with economy: never wasted motion, only intent.

“We find who’s pulling the strings,” Kairo said. There was no drama in it. No show. Just a fact laid out like a plan.

“Or—” His grip shifted, and the scarlet along the blade flared. “—we knock him out. Temporarily. Secure him. Question him. If someone else is in there, knocking him out will stop the immediate threat.”

Eli’s stomach dropped. “If we knock him out, that would make three people unconscious.” The words slipped out as little more than a whisper, as if saying them too loud might make it true.

His mind flashed with images of Zaira and Mel lying motionless somewhere in the dark.

’Three people… that’s basically everyone,’ he thought, throat tightening. ’What if more monsters come—what if it’s just me left—’

Kairo’s jaw tightened, the smallest shift of muscle. “Exactly why we need to hurry,” he said evenly.

His gaze cut down the length of the cavern, sweeping over jagged stone that looked like rows of broken teeth, shadows coiled in corners where anything could be waiting.

His sword glowed faintly in his hand, steady, unwavering. “Mio’s not that much of a threat to me.”

The words weren’t arrogant. They weren’t comfort either. They were just fact.

Eli’s chest stuttered at the weight of them.

Mio’s snarl tore through the stillness. His threads vibrated violently, singing with tension. The air shifted, sharp enough to slice.

Pain spiked through Eli’s skull. His danger sense flared so violently it felt like a blade carving through his head. He winced, clutching at his temple as if he could tear the sensation out.

’He’s dangerous—my ability knows it. Every nerve in this body knows it.’

Silver lines lashed, trembling like hungry fangs in the dark.

But then Eli’s gaze shifted—past the threads, past the panic—to the man standing in front of him.

Kairo didn’t move.

His back was steady, his stance calm, a scarlet aura bleeding faintly from his blade.

Against Mio, against the chaos, he didn’t even look unsettled.

And in that moment, Eli felt it clearly.

Mio was dangerous.

But against Kairo—

He was nothing.

Mio’s snarl cut through the cavern, ragged and furious. His fingers twitched, threads singing back to life with a high, metallic hum.

“You think you can just whisper like I’m not even here?!” His voice cracked, veins standing out along his throat. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

The silver snapped forward, dozens of lines whipping the air like fangs. But Eli felt it immediately—this time, most of them were angled toward him.

His body tensed, panic tearing at his lungs. ’He’s not even trying to hide it—he’s aiming for me—!’

Kairo didn’t flinch. He didn’t even give Mio the satisfaction of a glance. His sword angled, the crimson light running steady along its edge as the first threads lashed out.

A single twist of his wrist cut through three at once, scattering them into droplets of silver that dissolved against the water.

“Pathetic,” Kairo said flatly. His voice was calm, so steady it carried more weight than a shout. “You already know you can’t beat me, Mio. Stop wasting your strength.”

The threads hissed again, sparking as they met his blade, but none touched him. Not one.

Eli clung to his arm, chest stuttering with every clash.

His danger sense still screamed at him, jagged waves pounding his skull—but beneath it, he realized something else. Kairo wasn’t just cutting. He was waiting.

Because even as his blade flickered with every strike, Kairo’s eyes were moving. Subtle. Calculating.

Scanning the cavern walls, the ceiling, the water below—anywhere something unseen could be hiding.

He parried another thread with a single step back, his aura rippling faintly as sparks scattered across the black water. “If you’re going to keep fighting me,” Kairo murmured, voice low but carrying, “then you’d better hope to get off with just a scratch.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep