A Few Weeks Earlier – Shibuya – Tokyo, Japan
The pulsing heart of the metropolis was drowned in neon lights, rushing crowds, and the unmistakable energy of Shibuya district. Yet, in the shadows above the bustling crossing, reality was far different. On the rooftop of an abandoned 20-story building, a gang of Ghouls had gathered.
The Ghouls—creatures corrupted by an insatiable hunger for human flesh—were unlike vampires. Less elegant, more feral, their grayish skin and yellow eyes betrayed them even in the dimness. They lacked the dark charm of vampires, but in their brutality, they were feared as the predators of the city.
Their leader, a tattooed ghoul covered in scars with razor-sharp teeth, was about to divide the prey they had hunted that night. But then—a metallic sound echoed. The cold scrape of a blade being drawn.
"何者だ? (Who are you?)" growled the leader, turning toward the approaching shadow.
From the darkness, she appeared.
Nyra.
Silver hair slicked back, reflecting the moonlight. Piercing blue eyes with vertical, lupine pupils. She wore a tank top beneath a silver trench coat that fluttered in the night wind. Around her belt hung a metal emblem shaped like a wolf. In her hands, the katana Kaburami, summoned through her amulet in its first form: Runāseiba.
She didn't answer. Her icy gaze swept over the gang before she spoke, her Japanese flawless—low and cutting:
"私の剣が...お前たちが見る最後のものになる."
(My sword will be the last thing you see.)
"あなたは...銀の剣士なのか!?
(You… you're the Silver Blade!?)" the leader stammered in shock.
"そう呼ばれているのね?気に入ったわ."
(So that's what they call me? I like it.) Nyra replied.
The leader laughed, revealing teeth stained with blood. But the laughter died within seconds.
Nyra moved.
Her strikes were sharp and deliberate, each swing a perfect, deadly motion. Every thrust, every cut, executed with surgical precision—like a dance of death. The Ghouls lunged in packs, claws and jaws snapping, but the Kaburami's blade gleamed.
With every strike, the wolf's mouth on the sword's guard opened slightly wider, releasing a faint blue glow, as if the weapon was feeding on the creatures' blood. In one swift motion, Nyra spun and drove the blade through a ghoul's chest, hurling it into the concrete wall, leaving a trail of dark blood.
Two more came from behind. Without looking, Nyra twisted, snapping open the wolf's mouth. The blade flared with a blue aura, and she unleashed a cross-slash that tore the two apart. The glow lit her cold face for a brief instant.
The leader—last one standing—roared in fury and leapt at her, claws raised. Nyra merely lifted her sword and, with a single vertical strike, cleaved him in half. The body split cleanly, blood splattering across the filthy rooftop.
Nyra wiped the blade on the leader's coat, unhurried. Her icy eyes swept over the corpses—not with satisfaction, only contempt.
"Pathetic monsters. You never learn… always thinking strength means preying on the weak," she muttered, sheathing the sword.
She adjusted the amulet on her belt and walked to the edge of the building. Below, the city seemed like another world—full of light, color, and life—while above, only blood and silence remained.
Nyra closed her eyes for a moment, letting the night wind brush against her face.
"One day…" she murmured to herself, her voice cold yet distant.
"…I'll find what I truly need to cut down."
Then she leapt to the next rooftop, vanishing into the night of Shibuya.
Nyra landed softly on the rooftop of another building, her katana still dripping with the ghouls' black blood. She ran her index finger along the blade, watching the liquid evaporate into a faint blue mist. A subtle glow ran through the amulet on her belt — the binding seal with the Kaburami closing.
The hunt was over.
She walked toward a broken antenna and pressed the communicator attached to the collar of her coat.
"This is Nyra. The ghoul cell in Shibuya has been neutralized. Send in the collection team."
Her voice was calm, devoid of pride or emotion.
On the other end, a female voice answered with military clarity:
"Understood. Good work, hunter. Return to base for debriefing."
Nyra disconnected.
Headquarters of the Hunters' Order — Hand of Ulysses, Minato District
Hours later, she passed through the iron gates of the Order's base. The large structure — part ancient temple, part modern fortress — radiated an aura of discipline and silence. The organization's insignia, a tribal wolf over a crescent moon, gleamed faintly above the gate.
In the cold corridors, other hunters watched her in silence. Many respected her, others feared her. After all, "The Silver Blade" was known never to fail — but also never to smile.
Nyra stopped before the briefing room and handed a metallic flash drive to one of the base officers, a tall man with a weary expression.
"Mission report from Shibuya. Seven ghouls eliminated, no civilian casualties."
"Understood," he replied, glancing over the data briefly. "You continue to exceed expectations."
She gave a slight nod and turned to leave.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll rest."
"Wait." His voice stopped her.
"We've received a special request. An international priority case."
Nyra paused, not turning back.
"Another attack in Kyoto?"
"No." He stepped closer, extending a tablet with a dossier.
"An A-level ghoul has escaped our jurisdiction and boarded a flight to the United States. We believe it's hiding in a city called Salt Blake."
For a moment, the air grew heavy.
Nyra remained still, her gloved fingers tightening slightly. The name echoed in her mind like an old whisper. Salt Blake.
"I refuse," she said coldly. "There are other agents closer to the area."
"We tried," the officer replied.
"But there's something strange about this one. The ghoul appears to be recruiting beings and has vanished in zones where supernatural control is nearly nonexistent. And besides…" he hesitated, "you know that territory better than any of us."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
He continued,
"We need someone who understands the ground — someone who knows what she's hunting."
There was a long silence before Nyra answered.
"When do I leave?"
"At dawn tomorrow."
She took the dossier, slipping it inside her coat without looking.
"Understood."
The Next Day
Nyra opened a portal with the Kaburami and stepped through into the city, her silver coat stark against the decaying urban landscape.
Each step on that soil brought back memories she had tried to bury — the smell of smoke, the heat of flames, the screams echoing through the night. The ruined mansion, the bodies... and the feeling of losing everything she once called family.
The cold wind blew, lifting strands of her silver hair.
Nyra stopped at the airport exit and gazed toward the horizon — the old buildings, the damp streets, the fog blanketing the city center.
"Salt Blake..." she murmured.
Her eyes remained empty — no pain, no anger — only the silence of someone who had long since run out of tears.
Adjusting her coat, she activated her communicator and said in a low voice:
"This is Nyra. Mission started."
And then she walked into the shadowed streets of the city that had once been her home — now nothing more than a hunting ground.
PRESENT
Thunder roared above the top of Highspire, the sky burning crimson — as if hell itself was breathing over the city.
At the center of the magic circle, Drayfus stood with his hands raised, channeling the energy of the Primordial Conduit — a network connecting all cities: Salt Blake, Wadron, Argun, Seawraith, Winterfall, Necropolis, Blackshore, New Salem, San Riverbend, and Stormgrave.
The air trembled, energy alive and violent — but then, something changed.
A soft laugh sliced through the howling wind.
Karmila appeared behind him, wrapped in an aura of black and purple mist.
Her crimson eyes gleamed, and her lips curved into a venomous smile.
"You know, Drayfus... you always had a good plan,"
she murmured, circling him like a predator.
"But you forgot the final touch."
"Don't you dare—"
He tried to react, but Karmila raised her hands.
The energy was violently drained from his body.
Drayfus convulsed, blue and red veins of magic being ripped from his skin and absorbed into hers.
The hum of the ritual changed — now it was her feeding, her body glowing with stolen power as the runes began to fade.
"Real power, dear Drayfus," she whispered,
"isn't about armies… it's about absolute control."
"You… traitor…" he gasped.
"Exactly," she replied coldly.
A final burst of light flared, and Drayfus collapsed unconscious as a magical explosion shook the rooftop, scattering debris into the stormy sky.
While the ritual crumbled, Kimberly and Nyra were locked in the fiercest battle of their lives.
The floor cracked under their strikes.
Blades slashed through the air, sparks flying, trails of red and blue energy crossing like lightning.
Nyra, wielding Kaburami, moved at impossible speed — opening tiny portals and reappearing behind Kimberly, her precision flawless.
Kimberly countered with brutal strength, each strike releasing waves of crimson power that shattered the concrete.
"Still trying to stop me, little sister?!" Nyra roared, her violet eyes blazing.
"Until the very end," Kimberly replied, steady and resolute.
Nyra split into mirrored copies — illusions conjured through her portals — and attacked from every direction.
With a cry of fury, Kimberly slammed her hand into the ground, channeling crimson energy into a shockwave that obliterated the phantoms and shook the rooftop to its core.
Smoke rose.
From within it, Nyra activated Kaburami's second form — Tsukichi.
"This is the power I've earned," she said, her tone colder than steel.
"Father's legacy. And now, I'll bring this to an end."
The blade glowed in white-blue light, slashing arcs of energy through the air.
Kimberly dodged, leaping across debris and countering with crimson bursts from her living sword.
Their duel was chaos and rhythm — red and blue colliding in a dance of blood and light.
Kimberly's sword stretched like a serpent, striking from the ground, forcing Nyra to dodge again and again.
They were two forces born from the same blood — destined to destroy each other.
Until Kimberly spun midair and slashed Nyra's shoulder — right where the black mark burned.
The symbol twisted violently, expanding — and then exploded into a cloud of dark smoke.
When the mist cleared, Nyra stood with her back turned.
Her eyes had returned to blue, her silver coat flickering into form once more — and on her back, a new symbol: a wolf howling beneath the moon.
She turned toward Kimberly, her expression broken with guilt.
"I… what have I done…?"
"You were being controlled," Kimberly said softly, her voice trembling.
"I… I killed you, Kim. I threw you off that building. I thought I was getting stronger… but I only became weaker. I'm a disgrace."
Kimberly stepped closer and gripped her shoulders.
"No, Nyra. You're not weak. You just needed help."
"But asking for help… isn't that weakness?"
"No," Kimberly said, eyes steady. "Asking for help takes strength. It means you still care. I used to think like you — but there were people who showed me otherwise. I'm only who I am today because of them."
She extended her hand.
Nyra hesitated — then nodded silently.
The two sisters embraced — just for a moment.
Then the ground shook again.
From the center of the circle, a black explosion rose like a pillar.
Karmila had absorbed the entire ritual — and Drayfus.
Her skin turned ash-gray, her eyes burning red like embers.
Massive bat wings tore from her back.
Her hair grew long and wild, her hands morphing into claws, and from her shoulders emerged twisting mouths whispering in ancient tongues.
Across the cities, every marked monster began to collapse.
On the streets, Mandy, Roberto, and the others watched in shock as bodies fell lifeless around them.
"What the hell's happening up there?!" Mandy shouted.
"Kimberly... hold on," Roberto muttered, gripping the van's wheel.
High above, Karmila floated, laughing madly.
"I've absorbed everything — every essence, every creature! This is absolute power! The dawn of my dark reign! And my next targets are you two — the daughters of the first monsters!"
Kimberly and Nyra stood side by side.
Kim twirled her living sword and smirked.
"Guess our reunion will have to wait."
"Agreed," Nyra said, raising Kaburami.
From the floor, skeletal soldiers began to rise, screaming and clattering their weapons.
Kim glanced at Nyra and grinned.
"Wanna bet who takes down more?"
"Not losing this time," Nyra shot back.
They charged. Two shadows cutting through the undead horde.
Kimberly slid low, her sword spinning in spirals of blood and light.
Nyra moved with precision, slicing in perfect arcs, opening portals to strike enemies from behind.
The battlefield erupted in chaos — explosions, bullets, magic and steel in symphony.
Karmila unleashed twisted monsters — vampires, mummies, yetis, wendigos, and deformed werewolves, all warped by her ritual's energy.
But the sisters fought as one — covering each other, their rhythm flawless.
Then Karmila descended, hurling waves of dark magic, shrieking like a demon.
Kim dodged with bursts of energy, Nyra striking through portals — but Karmila seemed unstoppable.
Nyra's mind raced — she remembered how Kim broke her curse.
"Kim! Her chest! That's where the conduit's concentrated! You have to pierce her heart!"
"Got it!" Kim shouted back.
They shared a look.
Kim handed Nyra one of her pistols, loading it with special bullets.
"On three?"
"On three."
"One…"
"Two…"
"Bingo."
Their shots fired as one — the bullets hitting Karmila's face, staggering her.
Then the sisters split, dashing in opposite directions — and struck together, impaling Karmila from both sides.
The explosion of energy split the sky open with light.
Karmila screamed as the stolen essence of thousands of creatures was torn from her body — and she fell from Highspire, vanishing into a burst of red light below.
Across the cities, the marks on the monsters vanished.
Frank in Stormgrave awoke, free from her control.
Trent lost his Omega mark — and his curse with it.
Kimberly and Nyra stood breathing hard, covered in blood and dust.
"It's over," Kim said, exhausted.
"For now," Nyra replied. "There's still one last thing to do."
At the edge of the circle, Drayfus was still alive, barely breathing.
Nyra walked up to him, blade aimed at his throat.
"Any last words?"
Drayfus coughed blood and muttered,
"I… always suspected. Karmila wanted power for herself. But I regret nothing. This world is filth — humans or monsters, all trapped in the same rotten cycle of violence and corruption. And you know it... You lost your parents because of it, didn't you?"
The sisters stayed silent. They knew he wasn't entirely wrong.
"But you two…" Drayfus gasped,
"still carry something this world's lost… humanity."
Nyra drove her blade through his chest.
He didn't scream. He simply accepted it.
Descending the tower, the sisters found Karmila, crawling and broken.
Kim grabbed her by the hair.
"I should tear your throat out right here."
Karmila laughed weakly, blood on her lips.
"Then do it. Show me what you really are."
Kimberly exhaled, looking at Nyra.
"I would. But I made a promise — someone important taught me that mercy matters. The Order of Salem will decide your fate."
"What?! You wretched—" Karmila lunged, but Nyra struck her with the hilt of her sword, knocking her out cold.
The witch collapsed. The cold night wind swept over the rooftop.
The sisters exchanged weary glances.
Kim smiled faintly, despite her wounds.
"Guess we're even now."
Nyra smirked back.
"For now."
Dragging Karmila with a rope, they descended the stairs — every step echoing like the aftermath of a war.
When they reached the street, the rest of the group was there — Mandy, Roberto, Ryan, Trent, Tory, and Roshi.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Tory ran to Kimberly, hugging her tightly — followed by Mandy.
The others joined in — a tangle of laughter, tears, and relief.
Kim took a deep breath and looked around.
Then she stepped forward, placing a hand on Nyra's shoulder.
"Everyone… this is my sister. Nyra."
Silence.
Then Roberto broke it with a grin.
"Well… guess her stubbornness makes sense now. Must run in the family."
A few tired laughs followed.
Nyra gave a small, awkward nod.
And for the first time in a long while —
peace settled over Highspire.