Part 4: The First Blood
The mansion holds power — but not peace. As Yuuya explores deeper, a living threat emerges. This world does not gift strength without cost. To inherit it, he must bleed for it. And when he's forced to kill, something inside him doesn't hesitate. Not even a little.
Yuuya turned a page in the journal.
The next diagram was a ritual — a ring of markings around what looked like a wolf's skull. Below it, the text had shifted into his language again:
Only those who draw first blood may command beasts.
He closed the book with a quiet thud. Across the room, an arched doorway led into the west wing of the mansion. A cold wind blew from it — not air, but something... older.
Yuuya stepped through.
The hall twisted.
Literally. The stone corridor curved slightly left, then spiraled downward at an angle that didn't match the mansion's layout. The walls were wet, though nothing dripped. The light came from the seams in the floor — not torches this time, but thin, pulsing veins of red.
It felt like walking through a throat.
Still, he moved forward, unflinching.
He entered a vast chamber filled with bones.
Some were small — deer, maybe. Others were massive, curled along the walls like fossilized serpents. In the center, a circle was drawn into the stone floor: old blood, long dried, black and flaking.
A low growl vibrated through the floorboards.
Yuuya turned, steady.
A shape emerged from the shadows beyond the arch — lean, four-legged, its fur mottled with metal and ash. Eyes like twin embers. No breath. No snarl. Just a rumble, and the snap of claws across stone.
It was a wolf, but wrong. Taller. Twisted.
It charged.
Yuuya didn't run.
He stepped sideways, watching the shoulder angle, calculating. The beast struck the ground where he'd been standing and skidded through the circle, scattering bone fragments.
Yuuya grabbed a broken femur the size of a sword and swung it in a sharp arc.
Crack.
The beast flinched.
He followed — another swing, this time to the throat. It connected, forcing the creature back. Blood spat from its jaw. The growl turned into a high, metallic screech.
It lunged again — faster this time.
Yuuya waited.
Three paces.
Two.
He ducked low and drove the bone shard upward with both hands — into its chest.
Sink.
Warmth spilled down his wrists.
The creature let out a distorted sound and collapsed, twitching, legs buckling.
Yuuya stood over it, breathing evenly.
Blood pooled around the circle.
The runes glowed red.
Then white.
Then — silence.
The beast's body began to shift — curling in on itself, compacting, until what remained was a small, fur-covered core pulsing faintly like a second heart. A rune floated above it.
Yuuya stepped forward and placed his hand on the mark.
It sank into his skin.
A voice, not his own, echoed in his mind:
First blood drawn. Ritual accepted. Bond initiated.
Designation: Night.
Yuuya looked down at the core.
A new shape began forming — smaller now. Still a wolf, but more natural. Sleek. Black. Intelligent eyes blinked up at him.
The creature bowed its head.
Yuuya stared for a long second.
Then nodded once.
"Get up."
It rose.
And followed him.