The mist had vanished. With Gakurō's death, it was as though night itself had begun to retreat—the darkness that had smothered the city of Shinkou for weeks finally receded. Beyond the walls, the sky was visible again, and the air no longer hung so heavy. But peace was merely an illusion.
The hooded ones were still there. Not demons, not shadows—men, or at least figures that looked like men, who had slipped into the city under cover of the fog. Who were they? How many of them remained? And what did they truly want?
Haruki stepped out from one of the alleys, his sword—now sheathed once more—swaying at his hip. Weariness marked his face, but his eyes stayed sharp. Kuroda was already waiting by the gate. A freshly bandaged wound covered his shoulder, but he uttered no complaint.
"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.
Haruki nodded, then turned for one last look at the city. The silent streets, the ruined homes, the forest looming in the distance—all of it whispered of what had passed, and what might still lie ahead.
They were just about to leave when footsteps clattered on the stairs, and Rei appeared. A pack overloaded on her back, a makeshift pouch strapped to her waist, and in one hand, the sword she had inherited from Daiki.
"Wait!" she called, breathless. "I'm coming with you!"
"No," Haruki snapped, sharper than he intended. "This isn't a walk in the woods, Rei. What we're doing is dangerous. Deadly."
Rei froze but did not back down. Her eyes held no pleading—only determination. She stepped forward, looked at Kuroda, then back to Haruki.
"I know it's dangerous. But tell me—who do I have left?" she asked softly. "You… Kuroda… and Jinzou. You're all that's left to me."
"Jinzou's staying here," Kuroda interjected, but Rei only nodded.
"I know. He's accepted that he has to start over here. But I… I can't stay behind these walls. Not when I know the servants of darkness are still out there."
Haruki turned his gaze away. He should have remained firm, but something inside him stirred. The girl's voice, her courage… and her loneliness. The same loneliness he himself had felt before the dragon spirit found him.
"And if we run into more demons? If Akumaru finds us?" he asked, voice low. "I won't suffer another loss."
Rei spoke barely above a whisper.
"Then teach me to fight. Or if you can't, just let me come with you. I don't want to watch from the sidelines anymore. I want to fight… for you."
After a long silence, Haruki nodded.
"On one condition. If I say run, you run. If I say don't move, you stay still. And when the moment comes to choose… you always protect the other, not yourself. Understood?"
"I understand," Rei said firmly, stepping up beside them.
Kuroda smiled faintly.
"Looks like the three of us are heading out."
The three figures stepped through the city gate. Behind them, the bells were silent, only the wind howled between the towers. Ahead, the path wound south—toward mountains, forgotten temples, and something far darker.
The sun was beginning to set, and far in the distance, something began to stir again. But it was not mist.
It was something else.
Akumaru was watching them.
Not from a mountaintop, not from afar—but from the shadows, through the cracks of the reawakening darkness. Gakurō's death had not gone unanswered. The demon king did not rage, did not lash out. Instead, he waited. Watched. Learned.
He knew Haruki was no ordinary warrior. The dragon spirit pulsed within him—in every movement, every glance. And the sword at his side… a relic of ancient times. Of those who once rivaled the gods themselves.
And there was Kuroda—the shadow of the past, bearing a demonic legacy even if he denied it.
Akumaru did not fear them. But he knew: they could be dangerous. Their journey could not go unchallenged.
Haruki felt it.
He saw nothing, heard nothing… but the dragon spirit, Kurotaka, whispered within his soul.
"Be alert… the forest does not sleep. Something is tracking us."
Haruki tightened his grip on the sword and cast a quick glance at Rei, who followed a few paces behind. The girl was trying to keep pace, learning with every step—how to move quietly, how to stay alert, how to conquer her own fear.
Kuroda marched in silence beside them. It wasn't his quietness that was unsettling—but the way he watched. His eyes constantly scanned the forest shadows, and his hand never left the hilt of his sword.
The path they followed was narrow and overgrown—an abandoned trail long reclaimed by the woods. Roots rose from the earth, stones shifted beneath their feet, as if nature itself sought to test them.
Then, the mist returned.
Not like the blanket that had covered Shinkou. This time it did not engulf everything—only crept here and there from beneath bushes, from the roots of trees. As if it lived. As if it searched.
"Is this… the same mist that surrounded the city?" Rei asked in a tremble.
"It's similar," Haruki replied. "But more scattered. Like… it's looking for us."
"Or following us," Kuroda muttered.
The sun had nearly set when they saw the first demon. It stood alone—long, lanky arms dragging along the ground, skin cracked and gray. It didn't attack. It just watched.
Then vanished.
The next one was not so quiet. It dropped from the sky, a twisted-winged beast with claws, crashing into them. Haruki moved instinctively to defend, Rei screamed, and Kuroda drew his sword in a flash.
More demons followed—not in waves, but scattered, erratic. Each one different, each one deformed, as if they were not part of an army but lone sentries. Or shadows, guided only by the will of the mist.
"These aren't soldiers," Rei gasped after one skirmish. "They're… hunting us?"
"No. They're testing us," Haruki said.
"Or preparing us… for something worse," Kuroda added grimly.
Their journey grew more perilous, and it became clearer with each step: Akumaru would not relent. The demon king did not forget. And he wanted revenge.
Rei was exhausted, but said nothing. Haruki was teaching her—movements, reflexes, quiet breathing, constant awareness. And something shifted between them.
Haruki no longer treated her as a sister. Nor merely as a companion. He guided and shielded her as a mother would a daughter. And Rei clung to him—not out of fear, but because she saw in him a flicker of hope returning to her life.
The path led south—into the unknown. But they were no longer three against the darkness.
Now, the three of them were one.
And that, more than anything, was dangerous to Akumaru.
From the shadows, Akumaru whispered:
"It is not strength that poses the greatest threat… but unity. I remember what the ancients did. I will not allow it again."