Yan Sen moved swiftly through the village, his coat trailing behind him as the wind picked up. Aleksander kept close, while the village head and his son followed a few steps back, still shaken from the spectral vision they'd just witnessed.
They turned down a narrow lane that led to a newer part of the village—where the homes were less weathered, more lived-in.
Yan Sen came to a sudden stop in front of a small, quiet house.
The moment the village head and his son saw it, both of them froze.
The son's face went pale. "This is my sister's home… She and husband went to trade for food, only her son in here now."
The older man's mouth tightened, his voice cracking with dread. "You mean… the new target—it's my grandson?"
Yan Sen didn't turn to face them, but his nod was enough."Yes. Bughuul's influence is already here. But we can still help him—if we act now."
The village head looked toward the house, heart sinking. No lights. No sound. Just stillness.
Aleksander stepped beside his master. "What do we do?"
Yan Sen's tone was calm but direct. "We break the influence. Sever the connection before the child crosses the line. The ritual isn't complete yet."
Then he added, more quietly, "But it's close."
The village head gripped his son's shoulder, steadying him. "We're with you. Just tell us what to do."
Yan Sen stepped toward the door and raised his hand. A faint flicker of golden energy sparked at his fingertips as he drew a sigil across the air, then gently placed his palm on the door.
For a moment—nothing.
Then the door unlocked with a click.
Yan Sen looked back over his shoulder.
"Stay close. But don't speak. Not unless I say."
He pushed the door open.
Inside was the child.
And something else, watching.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn shut, dust floating lazily in the shafts of pale light slipping through the cracks. In the center sat the child—motionless, eyes glazed over, whispering to something that wasn't there.
Yan Sen stepped forward, his expression unreadable. With a flick of his wrist, a paper talisman appeared in his hand—its edges inked in ancient script, glowing faintly.
He whispered, calm and precise, "Reveal and cleanse."
The talisman ignited in a soft burst of blue light, floating in front of the boy's chest. The glow intensified—then suddenly—
The child screamed.
His back arched violently as the talisman flared.
And then—it happened.
A black plume of shadow burst from his body, tendrils flailing like smoke made of malice. The boy collapsed, unconscious, as the shadow took shape mid-air—Bughuul's presence now fully unbound.
The shadow twisted, screeching with no sound—then lunged straight for Yan Sen.
With a sharp pivot, Yan Sen dodged to the side, the dark plume smashing through the wall behind him like a spear made of nightmares.
Bughuul tried to attack Aleksander and others—
—but Aleksander was already moving.
He threw his arms forward, pushing the village head and his son behind him.
"Stay back!" he shouted.
A burst of flame surged into his hand—and from it formed his sacred weapon: a K'ṛik, also known as a Khakkhara—a Buddhist staff crowned with golden rings. The sound of the rings echoed with a divine chime as the weapon took form.
Aleksander slammed the staff into the floor.
A wave of golden energy rippled outward from the impact, humming like a bell struck in the spirit realm.
The escaping plume of shadow was caught mid-flight—the pulse rattled its form, forcing it to recoil and crash down to the floor, writhing.
Now visible in its true form, Bughuul rose.
Tall. Pale. Nightmarish.
His body was humanoid, but all wrong. Skin chalk-white, stretched tightly over long limbs. His face was a blank horror—no eyes, no mouth, only empty sockets and slick black hair hanging in ropes around his face.
Even without a voice, the weight of his presence made the air turn cold.
The village head fell to his knees behind Aleksander, trembling. "Is that… is that a god?"
Yan Sen stepped forward, the soft glow of talismans reappearing between his fingers.
"No," he said calmly, staring Bughuul down.
"That's a mistake humanity made real."
While the Bagul, tall and faceless, loomed like a torn silhouette against the dying sky. His body was unnaturally still, like a figure in a corrupted painting. Long black hair blew unnaturally in all directions, despite the absence of wind.
Suddenly—
The air snapped.
A pulse of raw hatred and darkness exploded outward from Bagul's body, rippling across the field like a shockwave. The villagers hiding in distant homes felt it in their bones. Birds stopped singing. Leaves withered. The very sky seemed to flinch.
The aura around Bagul thickened, and began to spread outward like a creeping fog, dense and black. The earth beneath his feet cracked. A web of black lines spread like veins through the soil, tainting everything it touched.
The shadows spilled across the grass like oil—touching the plants and killing them instantly, curling them into ash. The nearby trees groaned and twisted, their branches elongating unnaturally toward the sky like skeletal hands.
Bagul's darkness was no longer subtle—it was a domain expansion, a silent declaration of ownership over this world.
From the black mist, shadowy figures began forming—not solid, not real—but echoes of children with hollow eyes, each carrying the illusion of the sins they were forced to commit.
Yan Sen didn't flinch. His voice rang clear, precise."Aleksander, keep the Village Head and his son safe."
Aleksander immediately moved between the villagers and the encroaching entity. He raised his K'rik, slamming the end to the ground as rings chimed sharply—the sound echoed like a bell through the fabric of reality.
He extended his free hand, forming a glowing sigil of blue light with his fingers as he chanted the Kekkai sequence:
"Hōi (方囲) — Engulf."
A translucent marker of energy appeared on the floor beneath the two villagers, locking them in as targets.
"Jōso (定礎) — Cornerstone."
A complex mandala formed at the corners of an invisible cube, flaring with sharp geometric patterns. The air inside shimmered like heat haze.
"Ketsu (結) — Bind!"
With a burst of power, a blue transparent cube solidified around the Village Head and his son. The barrier gleamed like glass, humming gently with spiritual resistance. No force, natural or supernatural, could enter it now without his permission.
They looked around in awe and fear, but Aleksander gave a sharp nod."You're safe in there. Don't move."
From inside the cube, the Village Head whispered in disbelief, "What… what sorcery is this?"
Aleksander didn't answer. His eyes were locked on Bughuul, who loomed at the far end of the room—his faceless visage tilting ever so slightly, as if... amused.
Yan Sen stepped forward, now completely unrestrained by concern for the bystanders. His talismans danced between his fingers like feathers caught in divine wind.
The battle was about to begin.