Seven days had passed since the village was slaughtered.
The Red Tiger Knights, led by Captain Lochagos Tychon Drakontigeras, arrived at what remained.
Nothing stood whole.
Houses were reduced to blackened ribs of timber. The well was cracked. The temple roof had collapsed inward.
Bodies lay everywhere.
Some were burned beyond recognition. Others remained where they had fallen — frozen mid-step, mid-reach, mid-scream.
Parents were found shielding smaller frames beneath them.
But the children's bodies were nowhere to be found.
There were no flies around the corpses.
There was no blood on the ground, despite severed limbs.
The air carried the suffocating stench of ash and rotting flesh — thick, unmoving, clinging to the back of the throat like regret.
Deeper inside the village, the knights found the dead piled atop one another. One corpse lay twisted, its own severed leg forced between its teeth. Another body ended cleanly at the hips.
Some knights turned away.
Some vomited into the ash.
Some muttered prayers.
Captain Lochagos did not flinch.
He walked alone toward the burned temple.
Inside, among the fallen beams, he found a body kneeling upright — mouth open, hands extended forward, as if still begging.
He stared at it.
Then he turned to leave.
"Captain…"
The voice came from behind him.
The kneeling corpse had fallen.
No one had touched it.
Lochagos' jaw tightened. His gauntlet creaked as his fist clenched.
"Stíth," he said evenly. "Prepare the knights. We leave. Now."
He stepped out of the temple.
"We cannot allow that monster to roam freely any longer. What is the nearest settlement?"
"A town to the South," Vice-Captain Stíth replied.
Lochagos nodded once.
"Then we move immediately. If it has not reached them yet, we intercept. If it has…"
He did not finish.
As they mounted their horses, Lochagos wiped his gauntlet clean.
The smell did not leave.
No one spoke.
The silence felt heavier than screams.
Meanwhile, Shin Yato and Kore neared the town.
Kore's vision blurred. The gates ahead doubled in her eyes. The wind sounded distant, hollow, as if it were drifting far away.
Her knees trembled. She tried to take another step—
But her body refused.
Her lips were cracked and dry. Days without food, water, or sleep had drained her completely.
The ground tilted beneath her.
And then she collapsed onto the road.
She lay there, breathing heavily. Her leg was swollen and bleeding from the long march. Not a single cry escaped her lips. Not a tear fell.
She tried to rise. Once. Then again. But her strength failed her.
Shin Yato looked down. His expression did not change.
"Oh, Kore… get up," he said, flatly. "Aren't you a brave girl? Or should I leave you here?"
A faint smile touched his lips. He began to walk away.
Kore stared at his back as the distance between them grew. It wasn't fear of him that forced her to move.
It was the fear of being alone.
With trembling arms, she pushed herself up. And followed.
Shin Yato glanced back. She was still struggling, swaying, on the brink of collapse. For a brief second, he watched. Then he looked forward again.
"Oh," he said lightly. "What a brave… strong girl."
He spoke as if commenting on the weather.
Minutes later, they reached the town's main gate. A large wooden sign hung above it:
"Amfiválo̱."
Two guards stepped forward, spears crossing to block their path.
"Stop," said the older one, a man in his mid-forties. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"
Before Shin Yato could answer, Kore collapsed again. Both guards stiffened in surprise.
Shin Yato immediately dropped to his knees beside her.
"Please," he said, his voice calm but urgent. "Save my sister. Our village… it was slaughtered by a demon. We barely escaped. It has been a week since we ate."
He lowered his head.
"You can have this sword," he added, offering it forward with both hands. "It has been passed down in our family for generations."
The first guard blinked. "What?"
The second leaned close, whispering, "Sir… just take the sword. It looks valuable."
The older guard hesitated, eyeing the bowing young man, the unconscious girl, and the finely crafted blade.
"…Get up," he said at last. "Carry your sister. I'll take you to the temple to heal her. Nékt, watch the gate. I'll return shortly."
Shin Yato lifted Kore into his arms. "Thank you… truly, thank you."
"Hurry," the guard said, already turning toward the inner streets.
The gates opened, then slowly closed behind them.
The town of Amfiválo̱ did not stir. It did not tremble. It did not know.
It simply continued breathing.
Unaware of what it had just welcomed.
Unaware that it had embraced its own ruin.