My Heart's on a Binding Vow.
Season 1 – Episode 5
Tales on Sintsu's Creation
PART 1: Farewell, Footsteps, and a Warehouse That Breathes
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The gates of Loro stood wide open, their iron frames catching the morning light as if the city itself were trying to hold on to the figures walking away from it.
People filled the streets.
Not soldiers.
Not nobles.
Just ordinary citizens.
Mothers with tired eyes. Children clinging to sleeves. Old men leaning on wooden staffs. Vendors who had closed their shops early, leaving bread half-covered and stalls unattended. They lined the road leading out of the city, forming a corridor of silent gratitude and fear.
Some waved.
Some bowed.
Some whispered prayers under their breath.
And some simply stared.
At Yowai.
At Akani.
And at the man who stood slightly behind them—still as a statue, unmoving, as if the world itself had decided not to disturb him.
Yowai turned back as he walked, lifting his hand and waving awkwardly, his palm open, fingers stiff. He smiled, small and unsure, the kind of smile that said I'm still just me, even with the weight of a general's title hanging over his shoulders.
"Take care!" someone shouted.
"Come back alive!" another voice cracked.
A child ran forward before being pulled back by her mother, clutching a cloth doll to her chest. Her eyes sparkled as if she were looking at heroes from a storybook.
Yowai waved again.
Akani hesitated, then followed his lead, lifting her hand and offering a shy wave of her own. Her movements were stiff, uncertain—she wasn't used to crowds that didn't look at her with hunger, fear, or intent to harm.
Behind them…
Lord Fuga did not move.
He stood in one spot, arms relaxed at his sides, head tilted slightly downward, eyes half-lidded. Yet the air around him warped, subtle but undeniable. Dust refused to settle near his feet. The sound of the crowd dulled the closer it came to him, as if noise itself knew better than to cross that invisible line.
No waving.
No goodbyes.
No acknowledgment.
Just presence.
Aura farming, silent and absolute.
People avoided looking at him directly. Even those who dared to glance his way quickly turned their eyes aside, hearts pounding for reasons they couldn't explain.
Yowai noticed it. Of course he did.
He slowed his steps slightly, looking back at Fuga. "You know," he muttered, half to himself, "they're saying goodbye."
Fuga didn't respond.
Yowai sighed, then turned forward again. "Figures."
And just like that, the city of Loro began to shrink behind them—its walls growing smaller, its voices fading, until all that remained was the road ahead.
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The farther they walked, the quieter the world became.
Stone paths turned to dirt. Dirt turned to uneven ground scattered with dead grass and broken branches. The sky stretched wide and pale above them, clouds drifting lazily, unaware of the weight moving beneath them.
They walked in silence for a while.
Akani kept her eyes forward, her hands clenched lightly at her sides. Every now and then, her fingers twitched—old habits refusing to die. She listened to footsteps, measured distances, counted breaths.
Yowai walked beside her, relaxed on the surface but alert beneath it. His senses were stretched thin, aura brushing against the air like invisible threads, searching for something that didn't belong.
And behind them, Lord Fuga walked without sound.
Not a single footstep.
It was only after several minutes that Yowai noticed something… off.
He glanced sideways.
Lord Fuga's gaze wasn't wandering.
It wasn't unfocused.
It was fixed.
On Akani.
Not leering. Not obvious. Just… studying. Like someone examining a blade whose edge hadn't yet been tested.
Akani, unaware, continued walking straight ahead, her expression neutral, eyes sharp and distant.
Yowai cleared his throat. "Uh… hey."
Fuga didn't look away.
Yowai tried again. "You good back there?"
Finally, Fuga spoke, his voice calm, amused, echoing slightly in Yowai's mind rather than the air.
> "Who's the miss?"
Yowai blinked. "The… miss?"
Fuga's eyes flicked briefly to Yowai, then back to Akani.
> "The one walking like she's expecting a knife in her back."
Yowai scratched the back of his head. "Oh. Right. Yeah… I guess I never actually introduced you two."
He raised his voice slightly. "Akani."
She turned instantly, reflex sharp, eyes locking onto him. "Yes?"
"This is Lord Fuga."
Akani's gaze slid past Yowai—to the man behind him.
The moment her eyes met Fuga's, her body tensed.
Her instincts screamed.
Run.
Fight.
Bow.
Hide.
She did none of them.
Fuga, for his part, smiled faintly.
Yowai continued, unaware of the silent clash happening between them. "And Fuga, this is Akani. She's my… strength advisor. And my best friend."
Akani blinked, caught off guard.
Yowai went on, voice casual. "She's a girl I helped out of a pretty disgusting place. She's tagging along with us until she decides where she wants to go next."
There was a pause.
Akani and Fuga stared at each other.
Then—
Fuga laughed.
Not loud.
Not cruel.
But sharp, like metal striking metal.
> "Good one," he said. "If you just wanted to say you picked up a girlfriend, you could've been honest."
Akani's face burned.
She looked away instantly, cheeks flushed, voice barely above a whisper. "Th-that's not it."
Yowai frowned. "Huh? Then why are you hiding your face, Akani?"
She didn't answer.
Fuga's smile widened just a fraction.
---
The warehouse appeared on the horizon like a scar on the land.
Large.
Old.
Crooked.
Its walls were cracked, bricks darkened by age and something else—something that looked suspiciously like dried blood if you stared too long. Rusted metal doors hung slightly open, creaking softly as the wind passed through.
Akani slowed. "This is it?"
Yowai nodded, eyes narrowed. "This matches the reports."
They stepped inside.
The air changed immediately.
Cold.
Stale.
Heavy.
Dust coated the floor, undisturbed. Broken crates lay scattered, their contents long gone. Chains hung from the ceiling, swaying gently despite the lack of wind.
Nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Akani crossed her arms. "I knew it," she muttered. "Lord Fuga's a fraud. There's nothing here."
The temperature dropped.
Fuga's aura surged—just slightly—but enough to make the walls groan.
> "How dare you speak to me like that," he said calmly. "You helpless mortal."
Akani spun toward him, teeth clenched. "What did you just—"
And then they were moving.
Steel flashed. Aura flared. The air cracked as their forces collided, the shockwave rattling crates and sending dust spiraling upward.
"HEY!" Yowai shouted. "Not now!"
Neither listened.
Akani lunged, blade drawn, her movements sharp and efficient. Fuga didn't even step back—he raised a single hand, catching the force of her strike without touching her weapon.
The ground split beneath them.
Yowai backed away, heart pounding—not from fear, but realization.
This place isn't empty.
He knelt, pressing his palm to the ground, closing his eyes.
And then he heard it.
Faint.
Broken.
Screams.
Yowai's hand pressed firmly against the cold, cracked floor. He could feel it trembling beneath him, but the vibrations weren't from the building itself—they were from the screams.
Faint at first. Almost easy to dismiss. But then they grew sharper, echoing off the stone walls of the underground warehouse. Something primal and wrong.
Akani stiffened beside him, her breaths shallow. "Ghosts?" she whispered, voice almost swallowed by the air.
"Not ghosts," Fuga said calmly from behind, his tone flat but carrying weight. "I heard them when we were still in Loro, but I thought my head was playing tricks on me. Lack of sleep, probably."
Yowai's eyes narrowed. "Well… let's see what's real then. We'll deal with whatever's already ended."
He rose to his full height. The aura of a general radiated faintly from him, just enough to draw attention without revealing everything. Fuga mirrored him, arms relaxed, energy coiled and ready, aura humming beneath the skin.
Akani's hands flexed on the hilt of her sword. She had trained, yes, but never with this. Her breath caught as she watched the men in front of her.
"You know," Yowai said softly, "I thought having Fuga here would make my job easier. But this… this is different. This is the real rule of the binding vow. No interference unless it's absolutely needed."
Fuga didn't respond. Only nodded once. Silent. Watchful. Calculating.
Then came the first jump.
Yowai and Fuga launched into the air in perfect unison, the sound of stone cracking under the force of their push vibrating through the walls. Dust swirled around them. Crates toppled. The roof above shivered.
Akani yelped. "What are you guys doing?! This is no time for warm-ups!"
"Not warm-ups," Yowai shouted back. "This is how we get there faster!"
As they fell back down, the floor shivered beneath the air pressure of their jump. But it wasn't just the impact—it was the monsters. Shadows leapt from cracks in the walls, eyes gleaming. Fangs, claws, snarls—unclean and unnatural.
Akani froze for the briefest second, then felt her eyes flare purple, a surge of energy she hadn't known was hers igniting within. A symbol appeared briefly on her forehead.
From thin air, her sword formed, shimmering with raw power. She moved before her mind even fully processed the moment. Lightning-fast strikes, slashing through creatures that lunged at them. She yelled her finishing move as she spun:
> "Wild Strike!"
The monsters fell. Not one survived. They hit the floor, scattered in pieces, and a crimson mist covered the ground—not gore, but a representation of the monsters' energy dissipating.
Yowai watched, impressed. "Wow… unplanned, but effective. You deserve a raise."
Akani smiled faintly, then stopped. Her eyes caught the broken bodies. Her fangs, still visible from the surge, retracted, and her expression softened. "Yowai… those monsters… were they kids?"
Yowai swallowed hard. His mind filled with a sick weight. "I hope they find peace… and salvation. Whatever they were, they don't deserve what they were turned into."
Akani put her thumb to her lips, thinking, then nodded. "Power comes with a cost. Let's move. We need to find the one controlling this."
---
They continued down the hallway of the warehouse, stepping over shattered crates, broken furniture, and shards of glass. The air smelled metallic, like blood, but not fresh—old, settled, heavy with despair.
Soon, they reached the cages.
Small. Metal. Cramped.
Kids.
Skin dry and pale. Lips cracked. Eyes dull. Clothes ragged and torn.
One boy knelt in the back, hands clasped as he whispered, voice shaking, "God… I can't… I can't hope anymore… I'm sorry, my lord. This… this is the end…"
And then he slumped. Motionless.
The others froze, staring. Hunger and survival had overridden grief. They moved cautiously toward him—not with malice, but with a primal need to survive.
Yowai's stomach tightened. "No…" he whispered, stepping forward. But he didn't stop them.
Akani's eyes widened. "Master Yowi, what… what are they doing?"
Yowai's voice was low. "They are surviving. Sometimes… even the innocent must act to stay alive. It's harsh, but it's reality. We can only save what we can reach."
He went cage to cage, unlocking locks, lifting lids, giving each child a small bit of freedom. They stumbled, wiped away tears, and looked at him with eyes that asked questions without words. Akani followed, quietly assisting, her sword at her back.
Some of the children's hands brushed against Yowai as they passed. Some reached for Akani's sleeve, gripping lightly. Their gestures were desperate, but friendly—not violent. Not vengeful. Survival instinct had not corrupted their ability to feel trust, even for a moment.
Yowai said nothing. His mind spun, seeing their small, frail forms finally unchained.
---
Then came the lab room.
A man in a bloodied coat lay on the floor, barely conscious. Blood seeped from deep gashes. His face was pale, twisted with fear and pain.
"Run!" he croaked, struggling to sit up. "It's not safe… the… the royal experiment… it's… gone… out of control…"
Yowai knelt. "Tell me. Now. I can help. I am a general from Frost. I can protect you—just speak!"
The man's lips quivered. "We… we were… ordered… to create… the rarest, most dangerous… royal-level… monster. Control it… we could not… it… it doesn't obey… it… killed them all…"
Akani's hand flew to her sword, eyes blazing. "Stop it! Stop it, now!"
Yowai swallowed. "Royal-level?" His voice shook. His hands trembled slightly. He felt fear creep in—a cold, deep weight he hadn't felt in months.
"Yes… one of the ultimate monsters… humans… impossible…," the man whispered. Then, before Yowai could ask more, he slumped and died, his chest rising and falling for the last time.
Akani's expression hardened. "He serves his fate, master Yowi. But we will not fail the children."
Yowai dropped to his knees, trembling, memories of Vechi crashing in. He remembered her gentle smile, the warm sunlight of that field, her laughter, the day she was taken…
Akani moved closer, hugging him briefly. "Master Yowi… it's alright… we'll face it together."
Fuga's voice echoed softly in his mind: "Wake up… softly."
Yowai blinked, snapping back. He embraced Akani, holding on for a heartbeat longer than usual. "I'm… okay now."
"Are you… afraid?" Akani whispered.
He nodded. "I… six years ago, I lost a friend… Vechi. She… was everything to me. And I couldn't stop it."
Akani held his hand. "Then now, you can."
A shadow whispered from the darkness: "It is your fault…"
Both Yowai and Akani tensed, scanning the room. Nothing.
The shadow moved, just beyond the corner of vision. Its words cut sharper than any blade: "Will you make the same choice…?"
Yowai's heart pounded. "Choice?" he whispered.
Akani squared her shoulders. "Stop running, coward. Face us!"
They chased the shadow deeper into the underground, finding half-eaten remnants of monsters. It was a grim scene, but survival, not gore, shaped it. The shadow taunted them, then vanished.
Ahead, the legendary monster Flare crouched, consuming a fallen human with cold, unnatural grace. Akani's body froze. Fear, aura, and power collided, locking her in place.
Time slowed. Only Yowai could move.
> "I'm happening."
Fuga appeared, white robe flowing, aura radiating command. "You won't win this fight if fear and guilt hold you. Your strength is useless while your heart is weighed."
Yowai lowered his head. Shame, grief, and resolve all clashed.
> "I'll bring Vechi back to existence," Fuga whispered. "Then you can face Flare as a human, as one who understands… but only if you win."
Yowai's eyes widened. Hesitation, doubt, courage—all mingled. "You… can do that?"
Fuga nodded once. "Yes. Now… go."
Yowai inhaled sharply. His eyes met Akani's. She nodded faintly. Silent support.
And then he leapt, moving with intent, with fear, with hope. Toward Flare.
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TO BE CONTINUED
Next Episode: Flare Was Burned
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