The village was already dead before the snow finished falling.
Twelve bodies. Broken armor. Torn throats. Steam rising from blood freezing in the air.
At the center stood a girl.
Ten years old. Torn black dress. Blood on her lips.
Red eyes glowing like embers in the dark.
The last soldier stumbled back, sword shaking. "D-Demon—"
She giggled.
Then she moved.
A blur. Black and red. Wind—then pain.
His arms twisted. Sword clattered to the ground. He looked down.
Her small hand was buried deep in his chest.
She tilted her head. Smiled.
Rip.
His heart came out. Still beating.
The man collapsed.
She bit into it, blood dripping down her chin.
CRACK.
The gunshot echoed across the square.
The bullet punched through her shoulder. She stumbled. The heart fell from her hand, landing in the snow with a soft thud.
For the first time—pain.
Her red eyes snapped toward the shooter.
A man stood at the edge of the massacre. Long black coat. Dark hair pushed back by wind. Smoking revolver gleaming under moonlight.
A violet amulet pulsed faintly at his neck.
He stepped forward, boots crunching through snow, amber eyes locked on her.
"That's enough, kid."
She snarled. Showed bloody teeth.
Then lunged—faster than any human could react.
But Chain wasn't just any human.
He sidestepped. Smooth. Precise.
His sword flashed.
Slice.
Her head flew off her shoulders.
Her body twitched. Collapsed.
Her head landed nearby, red eyes wide with shock.
Chain exhaled, sheathing his blade. He glanced at the bodies scattered around him, then at the demon child's lifeless face.
"What a waste."
He turned to leave.
One step.
Two.
Three.
He stopped.
The silence didn't return.
Instead—a wet, grinding sound. Flesh knitting. Bone scraping bone.
Chain's hand went back to his sword.
Behind him, the girl's headless body stood up.
Black tendrils erupted from the severed neck, writhing through the snow like hungry worms, searching for the head.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Then, from the darkness of the surrounding forest, a voice responded.
Deep. Old. Dangerous.
"You shouldn't have done that, Hunter."
Chain's grip tightened on his blade.
"She was the youngest of us."