At the edge of the southern forest — where silence spread like darkness — the only sounds that could be heard were the wheels of a carriage and the hooves of horses striking the wet, muddy ground.
It was a simple carriage drawn by two horses, carrying three people — members of the King's Skull gang.
Yellow crystals glimmered inside the carriage, their light bright enough to illuminate the path ahead. They came from Yamikaji's black glove, adorned with crystal. He held Takeshi's sword, staring at it with a wide grin.
"Do you think he's alright?"
"He's been like that since we left."
Fard and Juso whispered to each other about their leader's strange silence, until Fard broke the whispering and said:
"Ahem… Boss!"
Yamikaji's smile vanished, and his tone turned arrogant.
"What do you want, you annoying pest? You've interrupted my meditation."
"I know how happy you are about completing the mission, but there's a question that's been bugging me since we left—"
"And what is it?"
"Why didn't we kill the owner of that sword?"
Yamikaji tossed the sword aside and leaned back in his seat.
"If you want an answer to that, ask the gang leader — assuming you don't mind losing your head in the process…"
***
The Revarge Beast rose on its grotesque legs, glaring at Takeshi with its red eyes, looking down on him like a small prey. In an instant, it lunged at him, baring its sharp fangs.
Takeshi slid his left foot forward, raising his right hand while focusing all his attention on the incoming strike.
"I guess it's time to finally make use of this cursed memory of mine."
The beast leapt toward Takeshi's chest level, raising its claws. Takeshi shifted his stance, twisting his torso to dodge the blow.
'Kritova Combat Style—'
With his heel, he pivoted around the Revarge Beast. Despite the swift motion, Takeshi didn't lose balance. He countered with an uppercut to the beast's jaw, sending it flying upward.
'A fighting style based entirely on balance — perfect for dodging in unpredictable ways. But… if I lose balance even once, I'll take massive damage.'
Despite Takeshi's hit, the Revarge Beast rose again, its eyes glowing even redder.
'The greatest flaw of this style is its weak striking power. If I go for a stronger blow, I might lose balance and fall — making me easy prey. And… the redder a Revarge Beast's eyes get, the thirstier it becomes for blood, meaning—'
The beast interrupted his thoughts, charging at him faster, slashing toward Takeshi's face.
'In a situation like this, the best combat style would be—'
There was no time to dodge. Takeshi leapt forward instead, tightening his fist.
'Rashtar Style!'
Before the beast could react, Takeshi's punch landed squarely on its forehead, slamming its face deep into the ground. The hit was delivered with full strength.
"This style relies on reckless offense — defending by attacking. It's one of the most dangerous styles out there… and it works perfectly against idiots like you."
The Revarge Beast tried to rise again, its dark blue blood spilling like ocean waves under moonlight.
BAAAM!
Another crushing punch from Takeshi drove its head even deeper into the mud, its twitching limbs finally falling still.
"I'm not the kind who waits for my opponent to recover."
The beast was defeated. Yet Takeshi remained cautious, sweat dripping down his face as the dreadful sounds around him grew louder.
"It's been a long time since I've fought a Revarge Beast… they usually avoid my area. But… they've gotten too close this time!"
The noise reached its peak — then suddenly stopped. The bushes around him rustled violently, and from every direction, dozens of Revarge Beasts emerged, their eyes burning with hunger.
Takeshi shifted into stance — stepping forward with his right leg, leaning slightly, fists up to guard his face — scanning around him.
'Damn! There's too many… I've been in this situation before, but that time I had my sword. Can I handle this barehanded? There are more than thirty — no, even more… I have no choice but to do it.'
He opened his hands, inhaled deeply, closed his eyes for a moment to recall his memories — then muttered:
"The Ferocious Style!"
A beast dashed toward him, eyes glowing red with hunger. Takeshi pulled back his right fist, bending his knee slightly.
'My stance is perfect.'
There were barely two meters between them. Suddenly, Takeshi loosened his guard — a splash of blue liquid struck his face.
"What the—? What happened?"
The Revarge Beast had been split clean in half. Its mutilated body fell before Takeshi, who stared in confusion.
Footsteps echoed from the darkness — light and slow. Takeshi lifted his gaze to see a man dressed in a pitch-black cloak, covering his whole body, holding a pure blade that gleamed even in the deep night.
"Who are you?" Takeshi asked instinctively.
Many questions swirled in his mind, but that was the first to escape his lips. The beasts suddenly rushed toward the man, but he calmly sheathed his sword beneath his cloak and straightened his posture.
In that moment — his eyes glowed white, shining like silver. A radiant aura burst forth, swallowing everything around him, releasing a crushing pressure that Takeshi himself could feel.
'Who the hell is this guy?!'
Moments passed — seconds that felt like days — before the aura faded. The beasts froze in place, their trembling eyes slowly returning to normal. One by one, they turned and fled in panic, for the true monster among them wasn't one of them… it was the man standing calmly in their midst.
Only Takeshi and the stranger remained. A low, mocking laugh escaped the man's lips as he turned toward Takeshi and lowered his hood.
He was just an old man, barely holding onto his hair.
"You asked who I am," he said, extending his wrinkled hand for a handshake.
"I am Oriven. And what's your name, young man?"
Takeshi stared at the old man's hand in shock, unable to say a single word.
'That pressure… it felt familiar. This old man… he's no ordinary person!'