In a night of deepening calamities, where darkness shrouded the features of the silent countryside, truth retreated behind a fog of silence. There, amidst the rubble of weary houses, one hut defied the void; it emitted a faint glow—not an ordinary light, but a radiance that trembled as if fearing to be extinguished before the majesty of death and birth.
Within those clay walls, an eternal struggle was being waged. Nagisa's screams were not merely expressions of physical pain, but an existential hymn tearing through the stillness of the universe. In contrast, Mamoro stood as a pillar against the storm, whispering to her in a voice dripping with tenderness and anxiety:
"Breathe, Nagisa... inhale the fragrance of existence one last time as a single body, and exhale this pain so that hope may be born from it. Have patience, my love, for the stars only appear clearly when the night is at its darkest. He is here, on the threshold of our world, waiting for your permission to tread upon this mortal earth."
Suddenly... a terrifying silence prevailed, as if time had stopped to witness the miracle. The screaming ceased, replaced by a delicate and sacred sound; the cry of a being foreign to this world, weeping the moment it touched the earth's air, as if realizing the weight of the trust it would carry.
The child collapsed onto his mother's chest, and a smile spread across Nagisa's face that human languages cannot explain—the smile of a victor who survived the battle of death to grant life. She said in a trembling voice:
"Look, Mamoro... this part of us that has detached to become a whole of its own. Look at our first fruit, how he carries the features of dawn in his eyes."
Mamoro approached, with the glint of tears and wisdom in his eyes. He touched his child's forehead and said with solemnity:
"He is a reflection of your pure soul, Nagisa. We shall name him (Harutora). A name not just for calling, but to be a destiny; for he is the tiger that tames the spring. Strength in self, and happiness in giving. I want him to be a bridge between the hardness of the mountain and the softness of the flower."
Nagisa closed her eyes in comfort and whispered:
"Let it be so... let him carry your strength that protected me tonight, and my beauty that you saw in me when I lost everything. Let Harutora be the light that the night of this countryside shall never defeat."
When the child was born…
Silence reigned inside the small wooden hut.
Rain fell upon the thatched roof, and the sound of the wind howled through the trees as if the forest itself were watching that moment.
Mamoro held the child in his trembling hands.
His face was stern like a warrior's… but his eyes were filled with an anxiety he had never known before.
Nagisa approached, smiling wearily after the labor.
She asked in a weak voice:
"Does… does he carry the Mark?"
Mamoro did not answer.
His heart began to pound violently.
He lifted the cloth slightly from the child's chest.
He looked…
And then he froze.
There was nothing.
No Mark of the Ant…
Nor any symbol of the Sacred Swords.
Only smooth skin… completely bare.
Mamoro whispered in shock:
"Impossible…"
Nagisa approached anxiously.
"Mamoro… what is it?"
He lowered his head slowly.
Then he spoke in a voice heavy as stone:
"He was… born without a Mark."
Nagisa's eyes widened.
For in this world…
Every child is born with a Mark on their chest representing a sacred insect.
But children born without a Mark…
Are called by only one name.
The Cursed.
The legend says:
"The Sacred Swords reject those who bear no Mark."
Meaning his destiny…
Is to be cast out by fate itself.
Mamoro looked at the child for a long time.
Then he said with a sad calmness:
"Even so… he is my son."
And he pressed him tightly to his chest.
13 Years Later
Years passed.
The child grew…
And his name became Harutora.
On that day, he was sitting with his father inside the hut.
They sat on the floor, a small fire burning between them.
Outside…
Nagisa was planting herbs near the house.
Mamoro said suddenly:
"Harutora… have you ever heard of the Fifteen Swords?"
The boy raised his head.
"The Sacred Swords?"
Mamoro smiled slightly.
"Yes… but the truth is deeper than what people tell."
He paused for a moment.
Then he said in a heavy voice:
"There are fifteen legendary swords in this world…
Each sword carries a divine power."
The flames flickered.
He continued:
"It is said that evil gods control the fate of humans…
But those swords…
Are the only things capable of killing them."
Harutora watched with glowing eyes.
"So… whoever possesses the swords can save the world?"
Mamoro nodded.
"Yes."
Then he looked directly at his son's chest.
Silence fell.
Mamoro said slowly:
"But there is a problem…"
"What is it?"
The father sighed.
"You were born without a Mark."
Harutora froze.
"That means…"
Mamoro finished the sentence:
"The swords will not accept you."
Harutora lowered his head.
But suddenly…
Mamoro stood up.
He took off his kimono.
He revealed his chest.
There…
Was a clear Mark.
A coiled black serpent.
Harutora's eyes widened.
"This is…"
Mamoro said:
"My Mark."
Then he said quietly:
"I am one of those chosen by the swords."
Silence.
Then he placed his hand on his son's head.
And said:
"But remember something, Harutora."
The boy raised his head.
"Fate is not a law…
Unless you surrender to it."
Harutora's eyes blazed.
In that moment…
A dream was born inside him.
A mad dream.
He said in a firm voice:
"Then I will do it."
Mamoro looked at him.
"I will break the curse."
The boy clenched his fist.
"And I will kill the gods…
And make this world live in peace."
Mamoro smiled a thin smile.
But inside…
He felt fear.
That Night
The family sat around the table.
Nagisa placed the soup before them.
She said smiling:
"The soup is very delicious today."
Harutora laughed.
"Mother, you say that every day."
Suddenly…
Knock… knock…
Everyone stopped.
Mamoro said calmly:
"At this hour?"
He stood up and opened the door.
In the next moment…
His face changed.
Five men stood outside the hut.
They wore white kimonos.
And on their backs…
The symbol of a black fire.
Nagisa whispered in shock:
"The Organization… The Fire of Punishment…"
One of the men said with a cold smile:
"Mamoro, bearer of the Serpent Mark."
He slowly raised his gaze.
"We have finally found you."
In a single instant…
The expression of calm vanished from Mamoro's face.
He said in a low voice:
"Harutora."
"Yes?"
"Take your mother… and run."
But before they could move—
BOOM!
The door exploded.
The men rushed inside.
In a flash…
Mamoro vanished from his spot.
Then—
SHOOOOM!!
He appeared behind one of them.
He struck him with a single fist.
CRAAAAASH!
The man smashed through the wall.
The others screamed:
"Kill—!"
But before they could finish—
Mamoro drew his sword.
SHIIIIING!
The sword gleamed.
With one movement…
He sliced through the air.
CHAK!
Two men fell to the ground.
Harutora stood stunned.
This was the first time he had seen his father fight.
He was fast…
Like a shadow.
One of the attackers said, smiling:
"Just as we expected… the bearer of the Serpent Mark."
Then suddenly—
His hand ignited with fire.
VROOOOOM!
He hurled a fireball.
Nagisa screamed:
"Mamoro!"
But—
SHOOOOM!
Mamoro split the fire with his sword.
He rushed toward them like a hurricane.
He struck…
He cut…
He parried…
The ground filled with cracks.
The hut began to collapse.
But suddenly…
A stab.
Mamoro froze.
He looked down.
A sword had pierced his chest from behind.
The man who stabbed him said coldly:
"It is over."
The sword fell from Mamoro's hand.
Harutora whispered in shock:
"F… Father…?"
Mamoro fell to his knees.
Harutora ran toward him.
"Father!!!"
Mamoro smiled with difficulty.
Then he pulled something from his clothes.
An ancient map of the world.
He placed it in his son's hand.
And said in a broken voice:
"Run…"
"No…!"
"Head… north…"
Harutora's tears broke away.
"Father… don't leave me…!"
Mamoro smiled for the last time.
And said:
"Live…"
Then…
His breath stopped.
Nagisa screamed:
"MAMOROOOO!!!"
The men grabbed her forcefully.
Harutora screamed:
"Let go of my mother!"
But they threw him to the ground.
Their leader looked at the boy.
Then he smiled.
"Leave him."
One of them asked:
"Why?"
He answered coldly:
"Let the curse live."
Then he approached Harutora.
He leaned down before him.
And said:
"Remember this well…"
He smiled a terrifying smile.
"This world…
Has no place for the Cursed."
They left.
Harutora remained alone…
Amidst the blood…
The fire…
And the body of his father.
He gripped the map tightly.
Tears falling.
Then he whispered in a broken voice:
"I will kill you…"
He raised his head toward the dark sky.
His eyes burning.
"I swear…"
"I will kill the gods themselves."