The Seeker of Destruction
8:00 PM
Ryujin stood over the corpses of the two people he had killed, his muscles bulging and an immense energy surging from him. His feet were soaked in blood. He leaned his body forward and extended his hand toward the ground, pulling a sword from one of the corpses. He began moving the sword forward and backward as if examining it. In a deep voice, he said:
"I heard it was made from a strong black metal during my disguise, but! Why is this weapon rusty? I only made a single strike, and here I thought I had gotten an unbreakable weapon."
Ryujin looked from the collapsing roof of the building he stood on toward the capital — flames and smoke surrounded it, all of it the aftermath of the explosions caused by the Shadow Corps.
Ryujin grinned widely.
"The Nevaria Organization… so, new rebels. I'm excited to see what happens next. My fight with him was enjoyable. I saw him yesterday fighting that old man — he wasn't serious in that fight, which only made me more curious about him. But… I feel like I know him. Is he the one Renzo spoke about in the war between humans and yokai? I mustn't rush. The answer will come in our next battle."
Ryujin's eyes glowed and shifted toward a sky-blue shade, his wide smile still carved on his face. Golden lightning began surging, heating the place before he vanished. The building collapsed, and the corpses fell with it.
At the same time
Akayama stood on the rooftop of a tall building, fire surrounding him from all directions, and the remaining members of the Shadow Corps encircling him. He turned to his right, looking at what was left of a building once known as one of the most challenging architectural feats. Akayama hadn't drawn his sword — it remained sheathed — nor had he taken out any weapon.
He moved forward, his mind lost somewhere else, as if in another world. One of the Shadow Corps members advanced toward him, holding a dark-colored spear with both hands, fear clearly etched on his face after witnessing what had happened moments ago. Akayama kept walking, unconcerned, looking above as he thought to himself:
"When prey realizes that escape is no longer an option, it will head toward the predator in hope of mercy."
The man drew closer, and while Akayama seemed utterly indifferent to him, he was now only a few steps away from striking. In that instant — his face emotionless — Akayama grabbed the spear with his left hand, stopping the thrust, and said in a majestic voice:
"What will you do now, when your weapon is in my hand?"
The man froze in terror, both his hands trembling. The wind grew stronger, and Akayama's blood-red eyes appeared. The man couldn't speak or take a step. With his terrifying gaze locked on him, Akayama said:
"So you can't do anything."
In mere seconds, the man's head hit the ground, blood splattering over Akayama's silver hair. The rest of them charged at him. Akayama's thoughts stirred inside:
"Why do people in this world seek power without realizing the tragedies that will befall them? Everyone who sought power and gained it lost their senses, lost their emotions, lost what made them human. And I am no exception — now I am nothing but a puppet killing everyone around me until I reach my end."
When the Shadow Corps members drew near, their bodies were all sliced in half, blood covering Akayama's face and hair.
From a tower about to collapse, one Shadow Corps member shot an arrow at Akayama. The arrow lodged into his shoulder. Akayama pulled it out, his cold eyes locking on the man, and in a majestic tone, he said:
"It seems your desperation to kill me made you forget the building that's about to collapse on you."
Within seconds, the building fell, the man's corpse pierced by sharpened wooden debris. Both his hands and legs were impaled. His body fell along with the others into the ground now littered with corpses.
Akayama looked down and continued:
"It's not over."
Their blood began to boil, and they transformed into monsters — their hands twisted and massive, teeth enormous, eyeless, their bodies now the size of buildings. Akayama smiled:
"They didn't become monsters… they became failed experiments."
His left eye turned light blue, and a voice echoed within him — a smiling voice:
"Looks like you're angry, Akayama."
In his cold tone, Akayama replied:
"That's none of your business, Sart."
Sart continued with his smiling voice:
"Then what's the fate of that person named Jin?"
Akayama smirked.
"Death. When a tool loses its usefulness, it must be discarded."
Akayama's eye returned to normal. He unsheathed his katana, a smile cutting across his face, and in his majestic voice, he said:
"Your role ends here."
In one of the capital's outskirts
There were no samurai to protect this area. The attack was still ongoing, and because of it, a fire broke out, trapping all the civilians. Escape became impossible. The air was thick with the choking smell of sulfur mixed with the stench of rot from the corpses. Most residents of that area had been slaughtered by the Shadow Corps.
During their continued assault, chains rose into the air, along with all their weapons. Swords and chains rose four meters high, and a large shadow of a person appeared amidst the flames. The swords all aimed at their respective owners, then shot forward. Their screams rang out, and moments later, a powerful wind swept away the flames, revealing that every Shadow Corps member in that area had been completely annihilated — stabbed by their own weapons. The place was stained with their filthy blood, black in color and nothing like human blood.
The shadow vanished, revealing the true form of the one who had killed them. His hair was white with blue strands, and he had a light beard. On his head was a pointed straw hat. He wore a chestnut-brown kimono with black stripes, paired with loose trousers tied at the ankles in a dark black color. Despite having no weapon, he had raised their weapons simply by pointing his finger.
This man was the First Commander, Ryota, a wielder of gravity magic and wind magic as a secondary.
Ryota yawned, a look of irritation on his face, and in his hoarse voice, he said:
"Really, you couldn't pick any other time to attack except during my rest? Damn you all, I'm angry. Was this attack planned by Akayama? Damn you, you weirdo."
Elsewhere
All remaining Shadow Corps members had been frozen by Roku, and the attack was halted by the three commanders. But Ryota and Roku were annoyed — this day had been their day off.
So, Roku began brutally torturing them, as if venting his anger on them.
Meanwhile, one of the samurai wondered:
"Why don't most commanders wear armor?"
Masaru looked at him calmly:
"Commanders don't wear armor because they don't need it in the first place."
"What do you mean? We use armor for protection."
"Unlike us, they can protect themselves with their aura. That makes armor meaningless to them, because aura offers better protection."
"So that's the reason they don't use armor, then."
Before they could continue their conversation—
"BOOOOM!!!"
An explosion of aura erupted, shocking Roku and everyone present. They saw eight buildings split apart within seconds — precisely and cleanly.
Nothing remained of the destroyed buildings but rubble. Hundreds of monster corpses lay scattered, all split cleanly in half from the upper chest.
Eight buildings were destroyed, debris scattering everywhere, most of it turned to dust. The remaining wood was stained black by the strange blood of the monsters.
A figure stood high atop the destroyed ruins, in front of Takeru, who stood below, stunned. His hair was soaked in blood, eyes wide in shock, his grip tightening on his sword. He shouted in anger:
"Who the hell are you?!"
The unknown man — who was, in truth, Akayama, his body covered in blood so that only his eye was visible — didn't answer. Internally seething from the filth staining him, he decided to vanish without replying to Takeru.
In the blink of an eye, Akayama's body disappeared.
Ten minutes later
Akayama returned, disguised in his second form — black hair wet with blood, a pale face, a scratch on his right cheek, a long gash across his chest and arm. In a faint, tired voice, he said:
"I called for backup."
Takeru, his own body and hair drenched in blood, bowed:
"I truly apologize. I doubted you without a convincing reason."
Akayama smiled and said:
"It's fine. Even if I were in your place, I'd have done the same."
Takeru smiled.
"I see a bright future in you."
When Akayama left, Takeru quietly gazed at the ruined rubble, his thoughts lingering on what had just happened:
"Truly, I had to pretend I'd removed my suspicion of him, but his aura is still mysterious… as if he's stronger than me. I must keep an eye on him, because I suspect he's the same person who was standing on the ruins… he might be the spy."
End of Chapter