The night shattered without warning.
There was no tremor. No omen. No sound of approach.
One moment, the dockside district slept in drunken laughter—lanterns swaying, sailors stumbling, voices slurred and careless. The next, the air split.
Something arrived.
The pressure came first.
It crushed breath from lungs, bent wood, snapped ropes. Lantern flames guttered and died as if smothered by invisible hands. Men froze mid-step, eyes widening, instincts screaming too late.
Then the Priest King emerged.
It did not step into the street.
The street gave way around it.
A tall, robed figure descended from nothingness, its form vaguely humanoid but wrong in every proportion. The lower half of its body blurred and twisted, legs bending backward unnaturally before resolving into segmented limbs that clicked softly against stone. Beneath its robes, chitin flexed and rippled like living armor.
Its face—
No.
Not a face.
A mask of pale flesh stretched too tight, eyes set too far apart, mouth split slightly wider than human anatomy allowed. From its temples, faint thread-like veins pulsed, disappearing beneath the hood like living silk.
The air smelled of iron.
Three drunk men never even screamed.
The Priest King moved once.
Its arm elongated, joints unfolding like a collapsing scaffold. Fingers sharpened mid-motion, transforming into bladed limbs that flashed through the air.
Rip. Rip. Rip.
Three bodies were torn cleanly in half.
Not crushed. Not flung.
Separated.
Blood sprayed across stone and walls in wide arcs, steam rising as warm organs spilled onto cold ground. The upper halves hit the ground a second later, faces frozen in confusion, mouths still trying to form words that would never come.
Silence followed.
A heartbeat.
Then chaos.
Screams erupted from every direction.
Raizen's retainers reacted instantly—six figures launching forward despite terror clawing at their throats.
They never reached it.
The Priest King turned its head slightly.
A sound like snapping silk echoed.
Invisible force slammed into the retainers.
They were thrown like broken dolls—bodies lifted, twisted, hurled across the street. One smashed through a market stall. Another skidded across stone, bones cracking audibly. A third struck a wall and dropped without moving.
Raizen felt it then.
That bloodlust.
Ancient. Focused. Hungry.
Aoi froze.
Her knees buckled.
"No… no… no…"
Her hands flew to her head, fingers digging into her hair as if trying to tear the memories out.
"No no no no—!"
She slammed her forehead against the wall behind her once.
Twice.
Again.
Her breathing turned erratic, shallow, panicked.
"Not again—please—no—!"
Raizen turned sharply. "Aoi!"
She didn't hear him.
Her eyes were wide, pupils shaking violently, teeth clenched so hard blood ran from her bitten tongue. Her nails scraped against her scalp, skin reddening as she clawed at herself.
The Priest King tilted its head.
Interested.
Senji exhaled slowly beside Raizen.
"…This," he muttered, eyes sharp despite the carnage, "is interesting."
Aoi moved.
Too fast.
She vanished from where she stood, hand snapping into Raizen's coat in a single fluid motion.
Steel flashed.
She had drawn the defense knife from his pocket before his hand even twitched.
Raizen's eyes widened.
"Woah—"
She was already gone.
Aoi lunged.
Her body twisted mid-air, flipping over broken debris, feet touching the wall once before she launched again. Her movements were wild—but fast. Faster than fear should allow. Faster than training alone could explain.
She slashed.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The Priest King recoiled half a step.
A shallow scratch appeared along its arm.
Blackened blood oozed out slowly, steaming as it touched the ground.
For the first time—
It reacted.
Raizen felt the shift instantly.
The air thickened.
That bloodlust sharpened into something lethal.
"AOI—MOVE!"
Raizen exploded forward.
The world slowed.
He saw the Priest King's limb begin to unfold, joints snapping open, threads forming along its arm like drawn bowstrings.
He reached Aoi and grabbed her—
Yanked her back—
The strike missed her by inches.
Stone behind them imploded.
Aoi screamed.
Not in anger.
In terror.
"I wanna die—I wanna die—I WANNA DIE—!"
She thrashed in Raizen's grip, fists slamming into his chest, nails clawing at his arms.
He held her anyway.
"Aoi—listen to me—!"
She turned her face up to him, eyes bulging, veins visible, tears streaming uncontrollably.
"That thing—!" she screamed. "That thing took them—!"
Her voice cracked.
"It took my mom… and Mika's mom…"
Her breathing collapsed into sobs.
"It took their lives—I saw it—I SAW IT—!"
Raizen's grip tightened—not to restrain, but to anchor.
"I can't—!" she gasped. "I can't let it slide—I CAN'T—!"
She shoved against him violently.
"MOVE IT—!"
The knife flashed again.
Fear ruled her body now.
She stabbed wildly.
Steel sank into Raizen's hand.
Blood spilled instantly, warm and bright.
He didn't let go.
Aoi froze.
Her eyes went unfocused.
They looked like they were going to burst from their sockets.
She stared at the blood on his hand.
Her breathing turned shallow, broken.
"I—"
Her legs gave out.
"Raizen…"
Her voice shrank into a child's whisper.
"Save me…"
She collapsed into his arms, shaking violently.
Raizen looked up—
And the street was empty.
The Priest King was gone.
No sound.
No residue.
Only bodies.
Blood.
Silence.
Senji stepped closer, eyes scanning the destruction, the torn corpses, the unconscious retainers.
"…Woah," he said quietly. "Looks like you have an ace in the hole."
Raizen clenched his bleeding hand, eyes still locked on the darkness where the thing had stood.
"Not the time, bro."