As Haruki took a closer look at Jinzou's sword, a young warrior also caught his attention. The man, Kuroda, was arrogant and headstrong, but there was experience in his movements — he seemed to be a remarkable fighter.
"What's so special about this sword?" he asked suspiciously, with a hint of disdain.
From that moment, he was almost always following them.
The Dragon Spirit whispered quietly but firmly to Haruki: be careful with Kuroda. It sensed something in him... a shadow. A twisted, hidden intention.
But Haruki ignored it. Kuroda learned quickly, paid attention to the lessons, and even seemed to believe in them. And Haruki liked something about him. Something dangerous.
When Haruki tried to carve the marks into Jinzou's father's sword according to the Dragon Spirit's teachings, Kuroda stepped forward:
"And into my sword? Why don't you carve the same marks there?"
"Your sword… it's plain steel. It doesn't carry the same memory," Haruki explained softly. But he saw the hurt in Kuroda's eyes. Kuroda didn't want to accept the answer.
Days passed. They visited all three shrines, hoping to find more. But besides the sword's parchment, nothing important was found. Haruki increasingly wondered why the Dragon Spirit wasn't urging them forward.
One morning, as they were about to train, a strange fog descended over the city. It wasn't like the usual morning mist. This was thicker. Heavier. Quieter.
And... it carried different sounds.
From the fog, muffled noises emerged: claws scraping sharply, something furry scraping on stone. The demons were there, but they were waiting for something. The Dragon Spirit tensely spoke to Haruki:
"This is different, Haruki. Something is coming. Something that will change the balance."
As the fog crept closer, thirty hooded figures stepped out. Slowly, purposefully, they headed toward the city gate. Haruki was called to the wall to see who approached.
They were humans. Or at least... they looked like humans.
Haruki froze, then shouted:
"Shoot! Immediately! If they get in, the city is doomed!"
"But they're humans!" someone protested behind him.
"No. They're no longer that. They stand with the demons. That's how they can cross the fog."
As the hooded figures approached the city, arrows rained down on them by Haruki's command. They shot from the wall, but the attack barely had an effect — only three arrows hit, and none were fatal.
Then something emerged from the fog. A huge figure whose presence cast a chilling silence over the city. It was Gakurō. Over three meters tall, with steel spikes protruding from his back, his dragon-like head tilted sideways as his flaming whip and mace glowed brightly in the twilight.
He spoke in a clear, sharp human voice:
"If you leave now... we will spare some of you."
His voice cracked ominously, as if many voices merged into one distorted resonance. The hooded figures waited motionless, like shadows of death.
Haruki immediately heard the Dragon Spirit's voice in his mind:
"Don't trust him! They will slaughter or wound you all, turning you into their soldiers."
Before anyone could answer, Gakurō spoke again, this time directly:
"Kurotaka... awake? What are you doing here? The bell is no longer in place, so you can't guard the prison anymore. We will free our leader. Without it, and without your mortal body... you can do nothing!"
Haruki snapped his head up in shock. "What prison? What leader? How does he know Kurotaka is here?"
Questions piled up in him like storm clouds. The world he knew became stranger and more dangerous...
The Dragon Spirit's voice sounded dull but sharp in Haruki's mind:
"I cannot answer these now, Haruki... We must not leave the prison."
Haruki gripped his sword tightly, his voice trembling:
"But we don't have a bell! The city will fall, everyone will die... for nothing!"
The Dragon Spirit answered angrily:
"They will die anyway! They didn't listen when we suggested fleeing. But their deaths will not be meaningless. If this land is soaked with blood, it will be harder to open the prison... and we'll have more time to reach Shinkou."
Gakurō raised his arm and gestured. The fog surged toward the city, slow and merciless. The hooded figures stepped forward with him — and although many fell quickly to the city's warriors, something was off. New ones arrived. But not from outside... from inside.
The city was already infected. Some hooded ones had infiltrated earlier and now attacked the defenders from behind.
The warriors dwindled. Alongside Haruki, Jinzou, Daiki, and Kuroda fought shoulder to shoulder against overwhelming odds. Everyone's face showed determination, but it became clearer: this battle could not be won.
The Dragon Spirit spoke again — more urgently, painfully:
"Haruki... We must flee now!"
Haruki looked around: flames were licking the streets, screams mixed with battle cries. The city was again on the brink of destruction.
"We cannot leave the city... we cannot let Isanori's fate repeat!" he shouted.
The Dragon Spirit nearly begged:
"If everyone dies here, Haruki... you won't be able to help anyone. You must get out alive... or all is lost."
The battle turned hellish. Flames engulfed the streets, dying screams mixed with clashing steel. Gakurō's figure loomed on the fog's edge, resting his bloody mace on his shoulder, human body parts hanging from the spikes on his back like trophies.
The demon spoke again — his voice now deeper and colder:
"Kurotaka... I know you feel the traitorous bloodline. Fighting alongside you... and yet you haven't killed him. Do you feel his sword? He still carries it... but he himself doesn't know what it is. You've softened! Both of us were betrayed centuries ago..."
Haruki turned to the Dragon Spirit in shock:
"What is he talking about? What betrayal? What sword?"
But the Dragon Spirit gave no answer, only whispered:
"We must go, Haruki. Now."
Inside, Haruki struggled — grief, anger, and confusion burned him — but he nodded. He turned to Daiki, Jinzou, and Kuroda:
"We must disappear from here now. We must flee."
Before anyone could move, Daiki looked back at Haruki — and at that moment, a blade pierced his chest. The sword's tip stabbed through him. A hooded figure stood behind.
"Daiki!" Haruki screamed as his friend collapsed, eyes extinguished.
Haruki's roar rose to the sky — pain and rage united inside. His eyes turned blood-red, the Dragon Spirit's power throbbed wildly within him. The pain turned into vengeance — and Haruki began killing, wildly, mercilessly, everyone in his path.
The Dragon Spirit tried to restrain him but was powerless. Finally, Jinzou and Kuroda grabbed him, pulling him from the sea of death.
The painful scream faded, but Gakurō froze for a moment. The sound was familiar.
"I hear that scream again, Kurotaka... You found the bloodline. At the war's end, four remained. Four peoples... four heirs. No more. And we will seek them."
During the battle, Kuroda took Daiki's sword — he said nothing, only held it close.
During the escape, Haruki suddenly stopped — he heard a child crying.
"Wait!" he shouted.
From the ruins, a trembling, dusty small figure emerged. It was Rei, whose drawings Haruki already knew. Her hands wouldn't let go of her notebook and pencils. Her face was smudged, but fear had paralyzed her.
Haruki could not leave her behind.
"We're not leaving her."
Jinzou bent down, lifted the child, and they ran again. The city behind them turned to ashes — but they lived. And they carried with them something more than mere hope: the legacy of the bloodline.
After a day of running, Haruki stopped and firmly said to Kurotaka:
"We need to rest, especially Rei. What she saw is too much for such a young soul."
Kurotaka protested, eyes fixed on the distance as if unwilling to stop:
"We can't afford to stop. The pursuers are still on our trail."
Haruki, however, remained firm, his voice hard:
"We're not spirits, Kurotaka. We can't run nonstop for days. If we weaken, we all fall into danger. We have to rest now."
Rei clung trembling to Haruki's arm, her face smudged, eyes full of fear and exhaustion. From afar, a quiet, ominous fog swirled on the horizon, as if the chase would never end.
Finally, Kurotaka gave in. He knew arguing was pointless — they were all already exhausted. As the fog calmed around them, they found a small cave system on the mountainside. They went deeper, but not too deep — they could still get out if needed — and the city's firelight was no longer visible in the distance.
Jinzou and Kuroda were lucky enough to catch some rabbits, which they quickly roasted. By the fire's warmth, they finally rested. Haruki squatted beside the tiny Rei, carefully tending to the child, still in shock.
Then Haruki turned to Kurotaka:
"Kurotaka, will you finally tell me about the prison beneath the city? Why must we fear what lies there?"
Kurotaka took a deep breath, his voice rising as if ancient secrets surfaced:
"Akamaru... Akamaru, the Seducer Lord. Long ago, this creature was locked beneath the city. Gakurō is his servant, guarding him, but now the fog is releasing his dark power."
Kurotaka almost hissed as he continued:
"Who is Akumaru? Well, you humans have forgotten almost everything. Akumaru lurks deep in the fog, hidden among the shadows, waiting for centuries for this very moment to reappear in the world. He is the one who tempts people down the path of darkness. His words are sweet but poisoned, like the venom of a snake. Those who hear him once never turn back."
"'Let me guide you,'" he whispers under the cover of night, "'the power I promise goes beyond any human desire… but there is a price. A vow you cannot break. If I call upon you, you will obey without question.'"
He is the one who seduced the hooded ones — who now fight against us — to the side of the demons.
Haruki spoke with a questioning tone:
"Is that why you were searching for the bell in the city?"
Kurotaka's voice was serious and grave:
"Yes. If the bell had still been in its place, you wouldn't have to face all of this now."
"What exactly does that mean?" Haruki asked, watching him tensely.
"The bell guards the prison's gate. It serves as a protective seal that prevents Akumaru and his demons from breaking free at full strength. If the bell had rung, the city's warriors wouldn't have had to fight the hooded ones and Gakurō and the others all at once."
"So… if the bell disappeared, the prison weakened, and the demons were able to break in?" Haruki's words slowly made sense to him.
"Exactly. And what's worse… without the bell, the prison's gate is nearly wide open. The whole city is in danger because Akumaru and his servants have long been waiting to be released."
Haruki clenched his fist.
"So now we don't just have to fight the hooded ones, but stop Akumaru himself as well?"
Kurotaka lowered his voice as he continued:
"Yes."