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The old house creaked under its own weight, tucked away in the far corner of the Mongol city. Ichigo, Tanjiro, Raiden, Hyro, Nobee, Rokuro, and Matsuya gathered inside, cloaking the windows with worn tapestries and barring every door.
The stench of sweat and iron still clung to their clothes. Their hands hovered close to hidden weapons.
For a long moment, there was only silence — each man lost in his own grim thoughts.
Tanjiro was the first to break it. "Minute by minute," he said, his voice low. "Everything you saw. Every detail."
One by one, they began to speak, carefully piecing together what they had witnessed:
The market stalls overflowing with weapons, not food.
Streets lined with blacksmiths pounding out cruel instruments of war.
No women, no children — only sharp-eyed, hardened men pretending to sell trinkets.
Soldiers disguised as common traders.
Foreign mercenaries in ancient armor lurking in shadowed alleys.
Nobee frowned as he recalled how unnaturally healthy and trained the "civilians" were — too perfect, too prepared.
Then, Ichigo's eyes widened slightly, as if a final puzzle piece had clicked into place.
"This..." Ichigo said slowly, "This isn't the city we thought it was."
Tanjiro leaned forward, frowning. "What do you mean?"
Ichigo's voice was hard. "No women. No real children. Only blacksmiths, merchants dealing weapons, civilians built like soldiers. It's all wrong. It's staged."
Understanding dawned in Nobee's face. "It's not a real city," he whispered. "It's an illusion. A mask."
"A military camp," Ichigo confirmed grimly. "Hidden in plain sight — on the border. They're preparing for war."
The room darkened, even though the lamps still burned.
Tanjiro clenched his fists. "Then we have to act. We can't let them march out of here unnoticed."
Suddenly, Raiden stepped forward, his face hard as stone. "First, we need to inform the King," he said. "He must know the truth before it's too late."
Ichigo nodded immediately, mind racing. "We can't all leave. We're too deep inside their territory now. Some of us must stay and delay them."
His sharp gaze fell on Hyro. "Hyro," Ichigo ordered, "you're the fastest rider among us. Get back to the Kingdom. Tell the King everything."
Hyro stiffened, hesitating for only a heartbeat. Then he saluted, his face fierce with pride. "I won't fail."
Ichigo clasped his shoulder firmly. "Ride like hell itself is behind you."
Without another word, Hyro slipped into the night, vanishing like a shadow.
The rest turned toward the door, where distant drums pounded like war-horns in their ears.
"The enemy knows something's wrong," Raiden said grimly, peering through a crack in the window.
Outside, the narrow streets writhed with armored figures — soldiers abandoning their disguises, donning dark battle-gear under the flickering torchlight.
The trap had sprung.
Ichigo's jaw tightened. "Rokuro. Matsuya. Nobee. Raiden. Hold the northern gate. Stop them from chasing Hyro. Hold as long as you can."
"And you?" Rokuro demanded.
Ichigo's answer was simple — brutal. "Tanjiro and I will tear through the heart of this false city."
The warriors exchanged grim nods — no fear, only cold resolve.
Within moments, Raiden and the others burst from the safehouse, racing toward the gate where Mongol war drums howled into the sky.
At the northern gate, the four generals slammed into the enemy lines like a hammer upon brittle glass.
Raiden's twin sabers flashed, carving deadly arcs through the armored ranks.
Rokuro roared as he drove his massive gauntlets into the earth, causing the ground to shudder and toss enemy soldiers aside.
Matsuya moved like a phantom, his twin daggers singing in the torchlight.
And Nobee stood tall at the breach, shield raised high, deflecting blow after blow without yielding an inch.
Their blades met steel, screams filled the air, and blood stained the stones beneath their feet.
But they held.
They held.
Meanwhile, Ichigo and Tanjiro raced deeper into the belly of the beast.
All around them, the illusion crumbled: shops thrown aside revealed hidden armories; "vendors" dropped baskets and drew blades; towers once thought abandoned bristled with archers.
"This city was never meant to survive," Ichigo growled. "It was built for slaughter."
"We'll cut it down," Tanjiro said, his voice deadly calm.
The two moved as one — a hurricane of flashing steel and iron resolve — carving a path toward the black fortress at the center of the city.
The symbol on its banner, darker and older than the Khan's crest, seemed almost to shimmer and pulse as they drew near.
Every street fought to keep them out.
But they were relentless.
Then — just as they reached the final approach to the fortress — the earth itself began to tremble beneath their boots.
It wasn't the enemy soldiers.
It was something deeper.
Something waking.
The ground split with a low, monstrous groan, and from the cracks seeped a thick, black mist.
Tanjiro stumbled, catching his balance. "What… what is that?"
Ichigo's eyes narrowed sharply. "It's not just an army. They've called up something ancient. Something wrong."
From the heart of the black fortress, a shape began to rise — massive, inhuman, and crowned with horns that scraped the blood-red sky.
The real weapon.
The true horror.
And they were already too deep inside to run.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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