The chaos had swallowed everything — the howls of the beast, the screams of the villagers, the trembling ground beneath their feet.
No one noticed the small figure at first. He stumbled out from the edge of the forest, clutching a torn piece of cloth to his chest like a lifeline.
His clothes were dirty, his shoes muddy, his face streaked with tears and dust, but his eyes were wide with something far beyond fear.
He had seen it all. The red pillar of light. The monstrous silhouette. The way the tall man who had hidden him earlier was now lying motionless on the ground.
His small hands trembled as he took another step forward, drawn toward the barrier like a moth to flame.
Then he saw her.
Takae — standing at the front of the glowing sphere, sweat pouring down her face as she struggled to keep the Eight Layered Sea Sphere from collapsing.
The boy froze. For a moment, the world seemed to quiet.
He remembered the kind voice that had told him to hide. He remembered the promise that everything would be okay.
But nothing was okay. His lips quivered. A single word escaped him, barely louder than a whisper, yet somehow cutting through the roar of battle.
"…Mama?"
Every breath was strenuous, every twitch agonising. Why couldn't he just pass out? Something pressed him to stay awake.
And so he did, watching as Miyuki and Ichiro fought against the beast. Every move left him more anxious than the last.
It was only for a second, but his eyes drifted away. He couldn't tell why they did, but he immediately wished they hadn't.
There he stood at the edge of the forest — the same child he had hidden in the cave before.
The boy looked toward the crowd inside the sphere, not even paying attention to the chaos around him anymore.
Ichiro reached out his hand toward him, trying to warn him, but all he did was cough blood and watch as his hand grew limp.
He could only muster the strength to move his head slightly.
Yuriko was unconscious in front of the barrier, Takae was busy keeping that same barrier together and Miyuki and Ichiro were fending him off.
He looked again and still no one had noticed the child.
So he flipped himself over and gritted his teeth as he tried to claw his way toward him, but whatever strength he still had wasn't enough to move him, and even if it was, what could he do in his state?
So he kept his eyes fixed on him and over and over again he muttered, "Get back, get back," until even his voice gave in.
Several black chains ensnared him as three separate golems charged from all directions.
They simultaneously launched their fists at him, but the strikes came to an abrupt halt against his Red Zone.
Before they could even press on, a sudden force burst outward, breaking them into pieces.
Miyuki gritted her teeth.
"Don't get too excited."
She shifted her stance and the rubble from the shattered golems combined to form a massive hand that pressed down on him.
The Red Zone was all that kept him from being crushed beneath it, but instead of hesitating he focused all his strength into the point where the hand met the field. A violent vibration surged through the construct, shattering it apart.
Amidst the falling debris he suddenly caught sight of Ichiro.
The chains restraining him prevented him from defending in time, so all he could do was jerk himself backward.
It wasn't enough.
Ichiro slashed across his right eye the moment he noticed him recoil. He immediately repositioned himself and aimed for the closed wound on Ryuji's chest, one he could now see clearly at this range.
He went for the strike, but his leg suddenly went limp.
He stumbled and missed his target, though not without quickly recovering.
This time the Red Zone stopped the blade before it could land. Unable to retreat properly with his failing leg, Ichiro forced all his remaining strength into his sword and pierced through it.
Ryuji tore his left arm free and parried the strike before it could reach the wound.
Drops of blood dripped from his furry arm, energised and sharpened into spikes before launching toward Ichiro.
Ichiro stepped through them, blocking every spike before Ryuji slammed a fist directly into his gut.
He coughed blood but remained standing even with the giant fist buried into his abdomen.
Switching hands, he thrust his sword toward the wound again.
Only then did panic flash across Ryuji's expression.
Instead of defending, he poured all his strength into his fist and formed a miniature Red Zone around it before violently expanding it outward.
The force sent Ichiro flying.
Howling like a triumphant wolf as he watched Ichiro crash into the ground motionless, he failed to notice the chains wrapping around his arm once more.
He turned back to see Miyuki still maintaining her formation, so he shifted his attention fully toward her and with one violent flex shattered all the chains restraining him.
She collapsed onto her knees.
Looking at her, he decided to turn away, dismissing her as defeated.
His eyes scanned the crash site for Ichiro, but he couldn't find him.
So he stood still, waiting for any sign of his presence.
Then he heard a branch snap.
He turned immediately.
What he found wasn't Ichiro, but the child staring at him with tearful eyes.
Ryuji froze for a moment and the boy took it as a chance to run toward the sphere.
It was then that his mother inside the barrier finally noticed him.
"Yuto!" she screamed.
Her shrill cries caught the attention of the entire crowd and they all turned to see the child running from the motionless beast.
She slammed her fists endlessly against the barrier, but it never broke. All her strikes produced were ripples.
Izumi strained himself to move but couldn't. He could only watch as the child stumbled and fell before even reaching the sphere.
He didn't get up. He couldn't.
Instead he turned toward Ryuji and weakly shuffled away in terror.
Looking at him, Ryuji's vision blurred through his remaining eye.
Once he squinted, he no longer saw the child.
Instead he saw someone else.
A boy of the same age. Frail. Pale. Black hair with dark ears protruding from his head.
That child sat there fidgeting with his fingers, reeking of hesitation and self pity, with no ambition or direction in life.
Looking at him filled Ryuji with disgust.
Why didn't he stand up and seek strength instead of convincing himself it was something he could never attain?
Why didn't he struggle until his body broke in pursuit of the validation that he too desired?
Why was he so weak? So quiet? So empty?
If only he had viewed the world differently then maybe—just maybe—things would have changed.
Maybe she wouldn't have died.
Maybe she wouldn't have left.
His blood boiled and tears of frustration rolled down his cheek.
He couldn't take it anymore.
No, he wasn't going to watch that pathetic weakness continue to exist under the excuse of inferiority. Not anymore.
Then a thought entered his mind.
Maybe it would have been better if that child had never existed at all.
Maybe then he wouldn't have suffered like this.
Ryuji growled and grunted as he stepped forward. The mark on his neck glowed a bright crimson before fading completely.
One step became two.
Two became three.
Until suddenly he was charging toward the child at full speed.
The boy could do nothing but shuffle backward, tears dripping onto his robe.
His mother screamed his name louder and louder while desperately pounding on the barrier, but it still refused to break.
Black chains wrapped around Ryuji's chest, neck and right arm, yet he continued forward regardless.
His eyes were completely lost, as though he were staring into another world entirely.
Once he finally reached the child, he spoke the first words he had uttered since taking on that grotesque form.
"Go to hell, you worthless piece of trash!!"
Not even for a moment did he see the boy actually standing before him.
All he saw was that accursed version of himself. The boy whose pessimism force him into weakness. The boy whose silence cost him everything.
He would destroy that curse once and for all.
One strike. One thrust. That was all it would take.
And so he attacked without hesitation or doubt.
All it took was a single thrust—
—for his saber-like claws to be stained with the blood of his woes.
Or so he thought.
When his vision cleared, the one impaled before him was none other than Ichiro.
He stood above the child, all five claws buried deep into his gut.
Ryuji paused only briefly before deciding this was his chance to finally kill him.
He tore his claws free and swung for Ichiro's head, but suddenly chains tightened around his neck and arm, dragging him backward and choking him.
All the while Ichiro knelt before the child.
Seeing the tears streaming down his face, he gently tugged at the boy's robe and calmly asked,
"What's your name, little boy?"
The child hesitated before answering,
"It's Yuto… my name is Yuto, sir."
"Yuto," Ichiro said before coughing up a large amount of blood, "that's a good name… and you're a good kid."
"You're bleeding everywhere, sir!!" the boy cried.
"Don't worry," Ichiro replied with a soft smile. "None of this is your fault, so don't blame yourself."
"Please, sir!"
"Now get up!" he shouted more firmly. "Your mother is waiting for you to come back home!"
The boy looked toward the barrier and saw his mother desperately fighting against those restraining her.
"Run!" Ichiro yelled as he forced himself to stand. "And don't look back, or I won't be able to save you."
The boy looked between the barrier and Ichiro one last time before forcing himself to run as fast as he could toward the sphere.
Ichiro slowly turned as Ryuji shattered the chains restraining his neck.
He didn't wait for Ryuji to attack first. Instead he charged straight toward him.
Ryuji raised his claws to block, but they shattered on impact.
Stumbling backward, he crashed onto the ground while Ichiro thrust his sword directly toward the closed wound.
The Red Zone stopped the blade again, but Ichiro forced onward regardless.
He poured every ounce of strength into the strike until suddenly the field cracked apart—along with a large chunk of his sword.
In the heat of the moment he didn't even notice the blade breaking.
He drove whatever remained of it straight into the chest wound created during Ryuji's transformation.
The strike wasn't precise, but it pierced through.
He pushed deeper and deeper, the veins bulging from his arms and neck as though they would burst apart.
Ryuji tossed and thrashed violently, but the chains restrained his right arm while the tendons in his left had already been severed when Ichiro shattered his claws.
He growled. Grunted. Howled with every ounce of strength left in his body.
But the sword never moved an inch.
And moments later—
he finally grew quiet.