Entering the Devil's Den
The Decaying Shrine of the North was not built of stone and mortar, but of spiritual rot and ancient despair. Perched on a massive, jagged cliff face, it was a physical manifestation of the darkness contained beneath the kingdom. Its cracked walls and broken pillars breathed in the cold mountain air, exhaling a palpable sense of malice that made Hayate's head throb.
Hayate, the Angelic bloodline King, was barely standing. The Hidden Clan Leader's remote spiritual attack had left him deeply weak—a lingering chill had settled in his chest, making every breath a shallow struggle. The Curse of Reflection was now mirroring not just Neshuda's body, but the entire spiritual decay of the kingdom, a constant, painful noise in Hayate's Angelic senses.
He leaned heavily on Neshuda. His Life Anchor was a study in cold, absolute determination. Neshuda knew he was the target, the key, and the shield. His dark eyes were fixed on the entrance, missing nothing, acknowledging the danger with fierce resolve.
"We can't stop here, Hayate," Neshuda whispered, his voice low and steady, a powerful counter-force to the surrounding chaos. "The longer we wait, the more power the summoner draws from the mountain. They are waiting for us to cross the threshold, and they are expecting us to be broken."
"Then we go in unbroken," Hayate insisted, forcing strength into his voice. He took a deep breath, pushing his own pure-hearted will against the oppressive spiritual sickness. He channeled his charisma not to inspire a crowd, but to anchor his own fading strength to Neshuda's unwavering spirit.
They crossed the final, broken threshold. The moment they stepped into the outer courtyard, the air thickened, and the eerie silence shattered.
The Ghoul Welcome
The trap was sprung.
From every shadow, every crumbling structure, the Ghouls shambled out. Dozens of them. They were slow, former humans twisted by dark magic, their bodies desiccated, their eyes glowing with the fierce, borrowed malice of the Hidden Clan Leader.
A massive wave of pure, spiritual sickness—the reflected malice of all the corrupted souls—slammed into Hayate's mind. He cried out, his vision swimming, his body falling into Neshuda's arms.
"The pain is immense!" Hayate gasped, clinging to his Guardian. "They are powered by the summoner's despair! Neshuda, you must not be struck! The corruption will break the Life Anchor!"
"I will not be touched!" Neshuda declared, his voice ringing with absolute, fearless determination. He pushed Hayate behind him, becoming a wall of human strength and destiny.
The battle began. Neshuda was magnificent—a dark whirlwind of controlled fury. This was the pinnacle of his master of sword and stealth training. He did not waste a single movement. His sword was a precision instrument, cutting the spiritual cord that bound the ghoul to the summoner, not trying to chop off limbs. With every strike, the ghoul dissolved into a shower of gray dust.
Hayate watched, his body wracked by the reflected physical strain and the constant, painful noise of the spiritual assault. But beneath the agony, he felt the immense, clean triumph and cold resolve of his Life Anchor. The curse was working as a shield for Neshuda, transferring the physical toll into a manageable, shared pain.
Neshuda disabled ghoul after ghoul, using their own clumsy hunger against them. He vaulted over the high, broken fountain, using the crumbling stone as a launch point to take out a cluster of enemies waiting in the high alcoves. The courtyard was quickly cleared, leaving Neshuda standing alone, breathing hard, his sword clean.
"The summoner is deeper inside," Neshuda stated, his eyes fixed on the heavy stone doors leading to the shrine's inner sanctum. "They used this wave to drain us."
The Final Barrier of the King
Hayate pushed himself to his feet. He could feel the final enemy radiating power from beyond the stone door.
He placed his hand on the door and felt an immediate, violent rejection—a powerful, dark magical ward designed to violently repel the Angelic bloodline.
"It repels my touch," Hayate said, quickly pulling his hand back. "It's a ward of pure darkness, built to keep the pure out. It can only be broken by raw, physical force that is spiritually neutral—the stray's strength."
Neshuda nodded, already placing his massive shoulder against the ancient stone, bracing his legs.
"If you break it, Hayate, the pain of the resistance will be terrible," Neshuda warned, looking back at the King with fear in his eyes.
"I choose the pain," Hayate said, meeting his gaze. "It is the only way in. We face the darkness together. I trust you, Life Anchor."
With a grunt of fierce, controlled effort, Neshuda slammed his shoulder into the door. The ancient stone screamed in protest. Hayate cried out, his own body convulsing with the reflected physical agony—a thunderous, sickening impact that sent a wave of nausea through him.
Again!
Neshuda hit the door again, channeling all his loyalty and determination into the blow. This time, Hayate focused on Neshuda's will, not the pain, and the spiritual agony lessened.
The door burst inward with a crash of stone and dust.
The Confrontation and the Cracked Seal
The inner sanctum was a vast, circular, echoing chamber. In the center lay the source of the spiritual war: the Seal. It was a complex, beautiful, terrifying pattern carved into the floor, pulsing with a dangerous, cracked red light. It was unstable, close to failure.
Standing over the Seal, chanting in an ancient, corrupted language, was the Hidden Clan Leader. He was a tall, gaunt man in heavy, dark robes, radiating ancient, concentrated malice.
Beside the summoner, bound by glowing, painful black chains, was the final, devastating piece of the trap: Henudra. The former advisor, looking pale and defeated, was being used as a spiritual sacrifice intended to break the Seal's last defense.
The Hidden Clan Leader stopped chanting. His eyes, burning with cold, focused cruelty, fixed instantly on Neshuda.
"The Life Anchor arrives," the summoner hissed, his voice dry and echoing in the chamber. "You should not have brought him, little Angel. I tried to destroy your pure-hearted soul with the treason of your nobles and the despair of your kingdom. But your Curse of Reflection is a shield built on love—it absorbs the corruption intended for you."
The summoner smiled, a truly terrifying sight. "But now I know the simple truth. The Anchor is the only key. Kill the Stray, and the King's soul shatters from absolute abandonment. The Seal will crack, and the Ancient Darkness will rise."
The Reflected Weapon
Hayate threw himself in front of Neshuda, pushing the Life Anchor slightly behind him. He would not let the ghoul summoner strike him alone.
"You are a fool, summoner!" Hayate declared, channeling his last reserves of charisma into a ringing challenge. "You cannot win!"
"I will be a god in the chaos!" the Hidden Clan Leader shrieked, raising his hand. A torrent of dark, spiraling power—pure, concentrated malice—erupted from his palm, aimed directly at Neshuda's heart.
Hayate knew what this attack was: a spiritual killing blow that would shatter Neshuda's soul.
The dark magic slammed into Hayate's chest. The Curse of Reflection activated instantly. Hayate collapsed, not from the physical magic, but from the spiritual backlash—he felt the raw, unadulterated murderous intent of the Hidden Clan Leader rushing through the curse, reflected straight into Neshuda's spirit.
Neshuda didn't feel pain. He felt rage. He felt the black, desperate intent to kill his King—and he was instantly weaponized by it. The curse had reversed the intent: the desire to destroy the Anchor became the absolute, overwhelming resolve to protect the King.
Neshuda's master of stealth speed became supernatural. He moved like a sudden lightning strike, his sword whistling through the air.
"You will never touch him again!" Neshuda roared, propelled by the reflected fury.
He did not attack the summoner. He attacked the source of the summoner's power: a small, black shrine totem pulsing with dark power near the cracked Seal.
Thwack!
Neshuda's sword struck the totem with the terrifying, precise force of his absolute loyalty. The totem exploded into a shower of black dust. The dark magic fueling the Seal immediately flickered, died, and the dangerous red light on the pattern faded.
The Seal was safe.
The Reckoning and the Final Coup
The Hidden Clan Leader screamed in agony, his power cut off. He staggered back, staring at the Stray who had destroyed his plan with a single, perfectly aimed strike.
"Impossible! The Anchor should not resist the malice!" the summoner shrieked.
Hayate, leaning against a pillar, smiled weakly. "You were wrong, summoner. The Curse of Reflection doesn't just transfer pain. It transfers the intent. You meant to kill him, but you gave him the rage of his king's protector! You armed my Life Anchor with your own malice!"
Neshuda moved back to the King's side, sword raised, protecting his Angel. The summoner, weakened, threw off his robes and pulled out a massive war-hammer.
"Then I will kill the Anchor with my own hands!" the summoner roared, lunging at Neshuda.
The fight was brief. Neshuda moved with absolute precision, fueled by the reflected resolve. He dodged the clumsy hammer, darting underneath, his sword slicing upward with devastating finality.
The Hidden Clan Leader collapsed instantly, dissolving into a pile of gray, putrid ghoul sludge. The malice vanished entirely, leaving the chamber in a profound, settling silence.
Hayate stumbled forward, collapsing against Neshuda, weak but victorious. "We won, Neshuda. We saved the world."
As the immediate danger passed, they turned to the final prisoner: Henudra.
Hayate used his healing aura to shatter the magic chains binding the former advisor. Henudra rose, rubbing his wrists, a cold, dry smile on his lips.
"I congratulate you, King Hayate," Henudra sneered. "You defeated the master of shadows. But the kingdom is still weak, and the throne is still empty. My role was only to expose the current flaw and clear the path for the true usurper."
He gestured vaguely toward the south, toward the Aurekawa Citadel. "The political war is now underway. The man who awaits you cares nothing for ghouls. He cares only for power. My service is now to him."
Henudra chuckled, the chilling sound echoing in the chamber. "Enjoy your peace, King. But you must hurry. The throne is waiting for Narakka."
And with that final, devastating revelation, Henudra, the chaotic pawn, slipped back into the shadows and was gone.