Haruki leapt down from the mountain into chaos—where demons were mercilessly slaughtering humans. A terrified crowd screamed for help. Children wailed. Fire and smoke choked the air, casting a red glow over the carnage.
He have no time for any perceptions.
The demons laughed, drenched in blood, reveling in the massacre like it was a celebration. Haruki clenched his fists in fury, and his yellow eye began to glow. Slowly, he drew his sword.
Then he vanished.
With a burst of speed too fast to follow, Haruki launched himself into the horde. In the blink of an eye, demon heads began dropping to the ground, one after another, their twisted grins frozen in shock.
One demon was about to strike down a child. The boy stood frozen, crying, with traffic crawling behind him—an eerie normalcy against the horror before him. The demon loomed over him, laughing cruelly at the child's helplessness.
Suddenly, a yellow flash cut through the smoke.
The demon's laughter ended abruptly as its head hit the ground. Its black blood splattered across the child's face and clothes.
Despite Haruki's blinding speed and strength, the massacre continued. The number of demons was overwhelming. No matter how many he cut down, more kept coming. People were still dying.
He gritted his teeth, pushing himself beyond his limits. He couldn't save everyone—but he would die trying.
Red and black blood soaked the earth, mixing into pools of horror. The cries of children and women pierced the air, driving Haruki deeper into rage. Every scream pushed him further out of control.
He dashed toward a demon who was lunging at a woman—but just as his blade descended, the demon dissolved into a shadow and vanished.
Haruki's sword was still swinging—about to strike the woman.
Then—
A flash of green thunder crackled through the air.
A hand shot out and caught Haruki's blade mid-swing, stopping it inches from the woman's neck.
She stood frozen like a statue, her eyes wide with shock.
Haruki's eyes widened. He looked up at the figure in front of him, lightning crackling around his body.
"You're here…" Haruki muttered, stunned.
"Gyotaro."
Gyotaro said firmly, "This isn't the time to talk."
Haruki's body began to glow with a radiant yellow aura—his confidence reignited.
Green lightning sparked across Gyotaro's frame, his presence now crackling with raw, focused power.
Without another word, the two warriors dashed forward, cutting through the wind like blurs of light and thunder.
What followed was a storm of precision and fury.
Within minutes, the battlefield fell silent.
Every demon had been slaughtered.
The ground was a graveyard—littered with mangled demon corpses and fallen humans, all soaked in blood. Smoke still rose in wisps, and the air was thick with sorrow.
Among the carnage, a few people had survived. Haruki stepped forward, trying to calm them. "You're safe now," he said gently.
But his voice could barely reach them through their sobs.
Mothers clutched lifeless children. Husbands cried over wives. The surviving villagers wept over the broken bodies of their loved ones.
Haruki walked over to Gyotaro, his expression serious. "What are you doing here? Our land is also under threat."
Gyotaro crossed his arms and replied, "I could ask you the same. You can't stop all the demons alone, Haruki. Why haven't you returned to our village?"
Haruki's eyes narrowed. "Have you forgotten? Just days ago, our clan exiled me from my own land. How can I return to a place that rejected me?"
Gyotaro looked at him, his voice softening. "Where is Yuki? Is she alright?"
"She's safe for now," Haruki replied. "I'm searching for a better place for us—somewhere we won't have to keep running."
Gyotaro sighed. "The Vermillion and Origami Clans had a small misunderstanding. They didn't understand your intentions… your emotions. Why are you taking it so personally? Come back."
Haruki's voice turned cold. "Do you really believe they'll accept us again? Never."
Gyotaro hesitated before speaking. "Both clans are in danger. Kshatra has no leader now. They're pressuring me to take the position, but you know I'm not the one for it." He looked at Haruki with conviction. "The only person I trust to lead… is you."
Before Haruki could respond, a small voice interrupted.
A child stood before them, tugging at Haruki's sleeve. His eyes were red from crying.
"M-My mother… she's not talking to me. She's sleeping in the middle of the road. Please help me… no one's listening… please, Uncle…"
Haruki slowly turned. Lying motionless in the dirt behind them was the child's mother—her body still, lifeless, and soaked in blood.
Haruki gently picked up the child, holding him close. He turned to Gyotaro with a heavy heart.
"I don't think our clan needs me anymore," he said quietly. "But these people… they truly need help. The truth is, it's our people who caused the destruction of our land. Blinded by power, they forgot who they were."
He looked down at the crying child.
"But even so… they are my family. And for their safety, I can place my full trust in you."
Gyotaro's eyes widened. "Haruki, you're my comrade. We trained together, fought together, and grew strong together. You know my past better than anyone… I'm not worthy of any leadership."
Haruki placed a hand on Gyotaro's shoulder. "There are still many who can lead. I have only one request—stay with our people. Protect our land."
Just then, from the peak of the volcano in the distance, a blinding silver light burst into the sky, radiating energy from a single point. The air trembled with its power.
Haruki gently set the child down and looked at Gyotaro. Without a word, both of them dashed toward the volcano, their figures cutting through the smoke and ash as they rushed toward the unknown.