Mist clung to the forest like a living veil, curling around broken trunks and puddles dark with rain. Rin's lungs burned with each ragged inhale. Blood slicked his hands, mud clung to his haori, and every muscle trembled from exhaustion. Beside him, Kaito moved with labored steps, the deep gash along his shoulder dragging his arm unnaturally. The screams from earlier, Yori, haunted the silence, echoing between the trees like a ghostly drum.
Rin's fingers tightened on the hilt of his blade. He didn't speak, there was no need. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath. Then the mist parted.
The general emerged, a towering figure of black armor, every edge catching what little light the gray sky allowed. In his arms, Yoris lifeless body, hung limp, robes soaked crimson. Rin's stomach lurched. The world had narrowed to that single, unbearable sight.
"You thought escape would be simple," the general said, voice a hollow rasp that cut deeper than any blade. "But the river does not forgive. And neither do I."
Rin's teeth clenched. Kaito's jaw was tight, eyes wide with disbelief. "No… not him," Rin muttered, every word tasting of iron and grief.
Without hesitation, the general moved. Lightning-fast, controlled, lethal.
Ayame lunged with her naginata, steel singing as it cut through the mist. Shun melted into the shadows, attempting a flank. But the general was everywhere at once. He caught Ayame's strike midair, twisting her weapon until it slipped from her fingers, then struck her side with a cold, precise blow. She crumpled against a tree, blood blooming across her robes. Her defiance faltered, replaced by the wide-eyed shock of someone who had realized the fight was over.
Shun's dagger glimmered in the dim light as he darted from the undergrowth. The general's helm tilted, almost casually, and a single swipe ended him. Shun's body hit the mud with a sickening thud, eyes locking briefly with Rin's, a silent farewell, a flash of trust, and then nothing.
Rin lunged, every ounce of fury and grief propelling him forward. Kaito followed, strikes fueled by desperation and raw pain. Sparks flew where steel met steel. Rain dripped from leaves, hissing on blades, pooling in the deep gouges the fight left behind.
"You cling to life as if it owed you mercy," the general said, his tone cold as ice. "It does not."
Rin swung, low and precise, but the general moved with impossible speed, deflecting each strike as if it were nothing more than wind. Kaito staggered, a slash tearing across his side. He fell briefly, spitting blood into the mud before rising again, determination flashing in his eyes.
Rin felt his own blood mix with the rain, soaking the haori he had once thought indestructible. Pain tore along his ribs and shoulders, yet he did not falter. Every movement was deliberate, precise, a desperate counter to the inhuman skill before him.
"Grief is weakness," the general said, stepping forward, boots crushing mud. "I will teach you to let it go… permanently."
Another strike sent Rin to one knee. Kaito tried to intervene, but a brutal blow caught him in the shoulder, spinning him to the ground. Rin lunged, grabbed him, dragging him up. The forest seemed to tilt around them, twisted by chaos, blood, and storm.
The general pressed, each step closer like inevitability itself. Rain plastered hair to his helm, water running down the blackened armor, but he moved unflinchingly. Sparks flew as Rin blocked another strike, muscles screaming, heart hammering.
"You fight like children against a storm," the general said, voice hollow and unfeeling. "Do you think courage can save you? It will only make your death more satisfying."
The remaining Ash Walkers lay fallen. Yori in the general's arms. Ayame and Shun strewn across the mud, blood mixing with rain. Rin and Kaito's breaths came in ragged, desperate gasps. Every step, every motion, was survival itself.
Rin scanned the forest. The river gleamed through the trees, swollen from the storm. The current roared, white foam biting at rocks. There was no other choice. With a wordless nod, Rin grasped Kaito, dragging him toward salvation, and chaos.
The general laughed softly, a sound colder than steel in winter. "The river will claim you, as it claims all those who falter."
They hit the water, and it was instant torment. Ice laden currents slammed them against rocks, mud, and branches. Limbs flailed against the relentless pull. Pain shredded them from every direction, Rin's arm grazed a jagged stone, Kaito's side throbbed with every stroke. Water surged into mouths and noses, lungs screaming for air that came in ragged gasps.
Yet they struggled on, gripping each other, clawing for the bank as if life itself depended on it, because it did. Each second was agony, each wave a threat of oblivion. Finally, the river spat them onto a jagged, uninhabited shore. Both collapsed, gasping, shivering, bodies slick with water, blood, and mud.
Rin's fingers itched toward the river, toward the general, toward everything lost. He stared at the wet mud, at the forest beyond, at the faces of Yori, Ayame and Shun, seared into memory. Rage and grief roared in his chest, a storm within a storm.
"They… they didn't make it," Rin whispered, voice cracking.
Kaito could only nod, trembling violently. His hand sought Rin's shoulder, a small anchor in a world shattered. Silence fell heavy, broken only by the river's roar receding behind them.
Rin leaned back, muscles trembling, blood dripping into the mud. His sword lay nearby, half, buried, useless for now. Every thought was chaos, every heartbeat a drum of loss. Yet beneath it all, a spark remained, survival. And vengeance.
"Survive," Rin muttered, teeth gritted. "Then we take it all back."
Kaito's eyes flicked toward him, red rimmed and wide with pain. "We… we will. We have to."
The sun broke weakly through the clouds, pale light washing over the ruined shore. Mist curled around broken trees like smoke from another life. Rin and Kaito leaned against each other, battered, broken, but alive. The forest behind whispered of horrors left behind and of the storm yet to come.
In the depths of their grief, one truth remained, the Red Serpent had claimed much, but Rin and Kaito were still here. And that alone was enough to begin the reckoning.