The fire had burned down to embers. A pale orange light seeped through the trees, turning the mist gold for a moment before the wind carried it away. The world was caught between night and day, that breathless silence before something irreversible begins.
Rin sat a short distance from the fire, blade resting across his knees. The steel was clean, but the faintest chip near the edge glimmered in the firelight, a scar from the last battle. His thumb ran along it, slow and deliberate, as though reading the memory buried there.
Behind him, Kaito tightened the last bandage around Haru's shoulder. The cloth was already stained, but the bleeding had slowed. Haru didn't flinch, his gaze was fixed on the mountain above, where the faint outline of the Red Serpent fortress loomed through the mist like a ghostly crown.
"You should rest," Kaito murmured.
Haru didn't look at him. "Can't. Not while he's up there."
Rin's eyes didn't move from his sword. "Daichi?"
Haru nodded once. "They took him past the ridge. I saw their banners, black with red smoke marks. That's their forward base."
Kaito's voice was low, hesitant. "You think he's still alive?"
A silence hung between them long enough for the fire to hiss in protest.
"He is," Rin said finally. His tone wasn't hopeful, only certain. "They wouldn't kill him yet. If they wanted him dead, they'd have left the body where we could see it."
Kaito exhaled, the tension easing just slightly. "So we go after him at dawn."
Rin nodded. "At dawn."
No one spoke after that. The quiet stretched, filled only by the crackle of dying fire and the whisper of wind through wet leaves.
When the sun finally began to climb, painting the horizon with pale crimson, Rin stood. He tied his hair back, eyes sharp and distant. The exhaustion in his face hadn't softened him, it had only carved his resolve deeper.
Haru rose slowly, grimacing at the pull of his wound. He strapped on his battered armor, each motion measured, silent. Kaito gathered what little they carried, dried rice, a flask of water, a single torch.
"Three of us against an army," Kaito said quietly, half a jest, half truth.
Rin's gaze never wavered from the mountain. "Three's enough."
The climb began in silence.
Mist rolled down the slopes like breath, blurring the world into shapes and shadows. The path wound between dead trees and jagged rocks, every step sinking into cold mud. Somewhere far above, faint drums echoed, the rhythm of a living enemy.
Kaito whispered, "You ever think maybe we don't make it down this time?"
Rin didn't answer. Haru did. "We've already died once. This is just what comes after."
They moved like ghosts, cautious, deliberate, the forest swallowing their footsteps. Birds fled from the sound of distant horns, and the smell of smoke drifted faintly on the wind.
Near midday, they reached the ridge. Through the branches, the Red Serpent camp sprawled below, tents of black cloth, smoke curling from cookfires, armour glinting faintly in the light. At the center, a large wooden structure rose above the rest, reinforced with spears and banners.
"That's where they'll keep him," Haru said quietly.
Rin studied the guards, their rotation, their numbers. "Four at the gate. Two near the ridge path. More along the south side."
Kaito frowned. "That's too many for a straight approach."
"We don't need one," Rin said. His tone was calm, almost detached. "We draw them out. Quietly. One mistake at a time."
They waited until the sun began to dip again, shadows stretching long and thin across the camp. The first to fall was a sentry, throat slit before he could turn. Rin dragged the body into the brush, eyes cold, movements clean.
Next, Haru and Kaito flanked the southern watchfire. Two soldiers sat eating, their helmets off, voices low. A knife flickered in Haru's hand, a flash of silver, a gurgled breath, silence.
Rin motioned them forward. "The main tent. Quickly."
They moved like shades through the dimming light, slipping between tents, boots sinking in soft earth. Every flicker of flame cast moving shadows on their faces.
Then came the sound, muffled, human, from inside the large structure. A voice, hoarse but alive.
Kaito froze. "That's him."
Rin pushed the flap aside.
Inside, Daichi hung from a wooden post, his wrists bound, blood dried down his chest. His face was bruised, swollen, but his eyes still burned with that familiar, quiet defiance.
"Rin…" he rasped, disbelief soft in his tone.
Rin was already at his side, cutting the ropes. "We came for you."
Daichi swayed but didn't fall. "You shouldn't have."
Before Rin could answer, the sound of boots thundered outside, shouts, steel unsheathing, the cry of a horn.
Kaito cursed. "They know."
The first wave crashed through the entrance. Rin met them head-on, blade flashing once, clean, precise, final. Haru followed, cutting through another two before they could raise shields. The tent filled with chaos, firelight, steel, and blood.
Kaito dragged Daichi toward the back exit. "Go!"
Rin turned, blocking a strike aimed for Kaito's spine. The impact jarred through his arm, he countered with a backhand slash that split the air in a single brutal line.
"Go!" he shouted again, voice sharp with command.
They burst from the tent into the open air, straight into a ring of soldiers forming fast.
And then silence.
The crowd parted.
From the center walked a figure in black armor trimmed with crimson. The Red Serpent insignia gleamed at his chest, the mask over his face carved into the shape of a demon's snarl. His presence alone bent the air, cold, deliberate, suffocating.
Rin froze. "It's him."
Haru's grip tightened on his sword. "General Yakushiji Raizo...."
The Red Serpent General who had slaughtered their clan.
Tatsuya's voice was calm, disturbingly smooth. "You really thought you could climb my mountain and leave with what's mine?"
Rin stepped forward, the fury in his eyes held by restraint. "He was never yours."
Tatsuya tilted his head. "No? You abandoned him once already. I merely collected what you left behind."
Kaito's jaw clenched. "You're a coward hiding behind chains and masks."
The general's laugh was low, almost amused. "Then unmask me."
He moved fast. The first clash was a blur, steel against steel, sparks leaping, the sound echoing like thunder in the narrow valley. Rin met every strike with precision, but Yakushiji's strength was monstrous. Each blow felt heavier, sharper, like fighting the storm itself.
Haru joined the fray, his blade locking against the general's halberd. The force drove him back, knees grinding against stone.
"Still breathing?" Yakushiji taunted, voice cold through his mask. "You should've stayed ghosts."
Rin's reply came through gritted teeth. "Ghosts remember who killed them."
Their blades sang again, furious, unrelenting. Kaito circled wide, cutting down one soldier after another, but the numbers kept swelling. The Red Serpent encircled them like wolves.
The general turned his halberd in a wide arc, striking Rin hard across the side. Blood sprayed, his footing lost, only Haru's quick block saved him from the killing blow.
"Rin!" Kaito shouted, but before he could reach him, a spear pierced his thigh. He fell to one knee, slashing the attacker's throat even as pain flared hot.
Daichi tried to move, but his body failed him. He could only watch, helpless, trembling, rage caught behind his broken voice.
"Enough," Yakushiji said softly. He drove his halberd into the earth between them. "You bleed, you crawl, you cling to ghosts, but you never learn. The Red Serpent doesn't kill men like you. We wait. We watch. And then, when you hope again—" He leaned forward, eyes glinting through the mask. "we take everything left."
Rin's eyes darkened. "Then start now."
He lunged. Their blades met once more, the impact splitting air and sound. For a heartbeat, the world held still, and then the ground beneath them gave way.
The old ridge, soaked from rain and blood, cracked apart.
Tatsuya leapt back. Rin and Haru dropped, the earth collapsing beneath their feet. They fell through mud, stone, and roots, crashing into the river below.
The current took them instantly, roaring, violent, dragging their bodies through the torrent. Rin surfaced once, gasping, searching for Haru, then the river swallowed them again.
Above, on the broken ridge, Yakushiji stood at the edge, watching. The Red Serpent banners rippled behind him.
"Let the river keep them," he said quietly. "They'll die as their clan did, washed away."
When Rin finally crawled onto the opposite bank, every breath burned. His body was bruised, battered, blood mixing with river water. Haru staggered beside him, one arm hanging limp, blood streaming from his temple.
Kaito surfaced moments later, coughing hard, dragging Daichi's half-conscious body onto the stones.
The forest on this side was silent, no drums, no smoke. Only the whisper of wind through pine.
They lay there, half dead, the sky above burning orange with the last of daylight.
Rin turned his head toward the mountain, voice hoarse but alive. "This isn't over."
Haru coughed, a thin smile breaking through the pain. "You're right… it's just begun."
The wind shifted, carrying the faint sound of drums far off, like a heartbeat waiting to return.