> "Long ago, during the war between Heaven and Hell, the gods grew tired."
Kaien spoke calmly as they sat in the small cabin, barely lit by the fire's dying glow. Shadows crawled across the walls, dancing around Reika's wide eyes.
> "Tired of shielding humans while fighting demons. So they gave mankind a gift—a weapon to hold their own ground: the Light Bringers. Forged from holy fire itself. Only those with strong hearts could wield them. And for a time... they were the only blades that could truly end a demon's existence."
Reika leaned forward, breath caught. "And then came the demon blades?"
Kaien smirked. "Yeah. Human curiosity always ruins the balance. Some fool took a fallen demon's blade to 'study' it. Next thing you know—he's crafting his own. He poured rage and sorrow into it. Dark arts shaped it. It fed off emotion."
> "And now there are two kinds of blades that can kill a dirty dog—one bathed in light, the other soaked in shadow."
Reika blinked, glancing between Kaien's sheathed katana and the one Zariel had never put down since they met. "So that means you both have one," he muttered. "Of different kinds…"
Kaien nodded. "Yep."
Reika hesitated, then frowned. "But… as your brother said—you brought shame to your family. You also fight demons. You protect people. How do you bring shame by bringing honor?"
Kaien sighed, eyes drifting toward the door.
> "Because I wield the wrong kind of blade," he said. "The demon blade chooses based on power, personality, instinct. It saw something in me. I'm the first in the family to wield one. To my brother, that's... betrayal. To me? It's survival."
Reika let that sit for a second. The fire popped in the silence.
Kaien suddenly called out, grinning, "You gonna come in, or you planning to watch us all night, Mr. Lightbringer?"
The door creaked open. Zariel stepped in slowly, katana still in hand, posture rigid, but there was the faintest smirk on his face. "You're too loud," he said. "That's how people die in the wild."
Kaien waved a hand. "And you're too stiff. That's how people die bored."
Reika chuckled. It was the first time he truly smiled since everything started. But then… something pulled at him. A tug in his chest. His thoughts drifted.
He stared at the fire.
He remembered the warmth of another.
Elias. His mentor. His protector. His stubborn old man.
And then… that moment came rushing back.
A memory.
---
> "If you ever can't find me…" Elias's voice had been quiet, steady, rough like sandpaper and age. He was patching Reika's arm after a scrape.
"...It just means I'm busy keeping the monsters from your door."
---
The fire snapped.
The world twisted.
And the scene changed.
---
Blood.
Bodies.
A crimson-stained temple beneath a black sky.
Elias stood alone. Breathing heavily. Surrounded by the corpses of dead saints—once holy men, now fallen.
His katana dripped with blood.
His hands were stained with it.
He calmly slid the blade back into its sheath, the steel humming as it disappeared from view.
> "Monsters…" he whispered to no one, "…come in many forms."
His eyes narrowed.
And then he vanished into the shadows.
——
The sun cast a soft golden light through the trees, catching on the dew-soaked grass as Kaien led Reika down a narrow trail. The forest was quieter here, save for the distant trickle of a stream. Reika followed closely, the earth soft beneath his steps, eyes drifting up to the man before him—the strange swordsman who had saved his life, whose blade danced like shadow and flame.
"Where are we going?" Reika asked.
Kaien didn't look back. "You'll see."
When they reached the riverbank, Kaien knelt and unsheathed his sword with a slow, reverent motion. The blade shimmered unnaturally—like obsidian dipped in starlight. Reika watched in silence as Kaien eyed the water, calm and focused.
Suddenly, the blade flicked.
A silver arc split the air, and in an instant, three fish leapt from the river—slashed midair, clean and perfect. Their bodies landed softly on the grass, barely flinching.
Reika's mouth opened slightly. "How did you—?"
Kaien stood, casually wiping the blade on his sleeve. "In due time."
Reika wanted to ask more. A hundred questions swirled in his head, but something in Kaien's voice—calm and final—told him not to push. Not yet.
They returned to the cabin in silence, the smell of pine thick in the air. But the peace was shattered when they stepped inside. Zariel was standing at the window, his jaw tight, gaze locked to the treetops beyond.
"They're coming," he said without turning.
Kaien frowned. "How many?"
Zariel's voice was low, urgent. "Too many. The Master has ordered us to cross the border by nightfall."
Reika stepped forward. "What's happening now? Who's coming?"
No answer.
Kaien moved toward the door, grabbing a satchel and strapping it across his back. "He should start manifesting fire hands by now."
Zariel, annoyed, corrected him. "They're called Tetsuga Palms."
Kaien shrugged. "Whatever. We gotta move."
Reika's heart hammered. "Can someone please explain?! What's happening to me? What are these… palms? Why me?"
Kaien finally turned, looking at him—really looking. His expression softened, just a bit. "You'll get your answers," he said, voice low and firm. "But for now, trust us."
He bent slightly, gesturing over his shoulder. "Get on."
Reika blinked. "What?"
Kaien grinned. "We don't have time to walk."
With hesitation, Reika climbed onto his back, still reeling from the rush of urgency. As Kaien bolted out the door with inhuman speed, Zariel followed behind, and within seconds, they were gone—vanishing into the deep green woods.
Minutes later, the trees whispered. The grass twitched. Something emerged.
The Blood Core.
Twisted humanoid shapes cloaked in dark red flesh, pulsing like open wounds. Their eyes gleamed a sickly white as they sniffed the air, their tongues forked and rotting.
They crouched near the cabin, growling in an unknown tongue that slithered like oil through the air. One of them pointed, blood dripping from its clawed hand.
"They're close."