By the third day, the forest began to thin. The oppressive mist gave way to scattered clearings, and the faint outline of rooftops appeared on the horizon.
Itsuki paused on the hilltop, staring down at the sprawling settlement below. It was nothing like Aokami. The city pulsed with life—stone walls rose high around it, banners fluttered in the breeze, and dozens of paper lanterns swayed over the crowded streets. Smoke from chimneys curled into the sky, mingling with the sharp scent of roasted chestnuts and spices that drifted even this far.
"Welcome to Hoshimori," Yukari said flatly, though there was a flicker of something softer in her tone. "The City of Lanterns. If you want answers, this is the place to start."
Itsuki blinked, still overwhelmed. "It's… huge. I didn't even know places like this existed."
Tsukihime tilted her head, her silver hair catching the sunlight. "Human cities burn bright… to keep the shadows at bay."
Yukari glanced at her sharply. "And yet they gather here all the same."
---
They entered through the east gate, blending into the river of merchants, travelers, and guards in lacquered armor. Itsuki kept close to Tsukihime, conscious of her otherworldly aura—even with a cloak, she drew stares. Yukari walked ahead, bow slung over her shoulder, scanning every shadow.
The streets were alive with sound. Vendors shouted their wares, children darted between stalls, monks chanted prayers at a shrine lit by dozens of lanterns. Itsuki felt dizzy, but also… thrilled. For the first time, the world felt vast and alive.
But beneath the brightness, unease stirred.
Tsukihime's expression darkened. "The air here… it quivers. The rift is close."
Yukari muttered, "Of course it is. Hoshimori has always been a beacon—for light and for darkness."
They found shelter in a small teahouse tucked between shops. The owner, an elderly man with a crooked smile, didn't ask questions when Yukari pressed a few coins into his hand. He led them to a quiet back room, where steam from hot tea filled the air.
Itsuki collapsed onto the cushion. "Finally. A roof, and real food."
"You should rest," Tsukihime said softly. But her eyes never left the window, as if expecting the sky itself to split again.
---
Night fell. Lanterns bathed the streets in warm light, painting the city in gold and crimson. From their room, Itsuki could hear music drifting from the plazas, the laughter of drunkards, the clatter of merchants closing their stalls.
For a moment, everything almost felt normal.
Almost.
Because the laughter cut off. The music stuttered. Then came the scream.
Itsuki jumped to his feet. Outside, lanterns flickered violently, their glow smothered one by one. The air grew heavy, suffocating. Shadows writhed across the cobblestones, crawling up the walls like ink.
"The rift," Tsukihime whispered.
Yukari cursed, already stringing an arrow. "Of course it had to be tonight."
They rushed into the streets. Panic spread as the rift tore open above the main plaza—a gash of swirling black, bleeding darkness. From it, dozens of creatures poured out, more twisted and violent than those in the forest. Their claws scraped stone, their jaws unhinged with hunger.
Guards fought valiantly, their blades clashing against the tide, but steel could not pierce shadow. One by one, men fell, their screams drowned in the chaos.
Itsuki's chest burned. Light flared, and the Starblade burst into being. He ran forward, striking clumsily but desperately, carving through one monster as it lunged for a child. The creature dissolved, but more replaced it instantly.
Beside him, Tsukihime raised her hand. Her pendant flickered weakly, but she still managed to unleash a wave of silver light, forcing the nearest shadows back.
And then—Yukari moved.
She was no longer just a wary traveler. She was a storm.
Her arrows glowed with runes, flying in rapid succession, each strike exploding into light that tore through the darkness. She leapt onto a rooftop, her form graceful, every shot precise. For a moment, the tide slowed.
But then—the rift pulsed.
A massive figure emerged, twice the size of the others, its body armored in obsidian plates, its eyes burning red. Its roar shook the city.
Yukari froze. The bow slipped in her hands, just for a second.
Itsuki noticed. "Yukari! What's wrong?!"
Her voice cracked—anger and grief tangled together. "That thing… it destroyed my home."
The great beast turned toward her, as if recognizing her voice. Shadows rippled around it like a crown.
Yukari's composure fractured. Her eyes burned with tears, her breath ragged. "I watched it tear through everything—my village, my family. And I couldn't stop it."
She raised her bow again, but her hands trembled. The arrow wavered.
The beast roared, charging.
"Yukari!" Itsuki shouted, his own fear spiking. He could feel the stars whispering, urging him forward. The Starblade flared brighter than ever. "You're not alone this time!"
Tsukihime's voice rang clear, cutting through the chaos. "Hunter, remember this—the stars chose him, and they chose you too. Stand, or fall!"
Yukari's grip tightened. Her fear clashed with fury, until resolve sparked in her eyes. She screamed and loosed the arrow. It blazed with light, striking the beast's chest.
At the same time, Itsuki leapt forward, driving the Starblade into the same wound. Tsukihime's pendant pulsed, amplifying the strike.
The monster shrieked, shadows bursting apart in a wave that shook the plaza. When the smoke cleared, the creature was gone.
The rift quivered… and closed.
Silence fell, broken only by the crackling of shattered lanterns. Survivors emerged slowly, staring at the three of them with awe and fear.
Yukari lowered her bow, trembling. Tears streaked her face, but her voice was steady now. "This fight… isn't just yours. It's mine too."
Itsuki met her gaze and nodded. "Then we'll fight together."
Tsukihime looked up at the stars through the fading smoke, her expression unreadable. "The seal weakens faster than I feared. This is only the beginning."
And somewhere, far beyond the city walls, cloaked figures gathered in the dark, watching.
"The Starbearer awakens," one whispered.
"Then the night of eclipses draws near."