The forest didn't whisper.
It watched.
Every leaf rustled not with wind, but with intent—as if a thousand unseen eyes blinked in unison. Shadows didn't fall; they leaned, stretched, waited. Every twig, every tendril of mist, felt like it was holding its breath.
Kagetsu Reika's footfall crunched soft against the moss.
But the quiet devoured it. Swallowed it whole.
She moved like a ghost with purpose—katana drawn, body still, soul even stiller. Her blade, Shinsoumei, hummed softly at her side, as if aware of what lurked ahead.
Somewhere behind, the others remained just out of frame—Daigo probably cracking a joke with blood in his teeth, Ishigo adjusting the grip of his new prosthetic, Yeaga brooding about how he wasn't edgy enough despite the glow of his sword.
They were safe.
She wasn't.
She felt it first.
Not a sound.
A pressure.
Low. Seismic.
Like standing atop a fault line seconds before it splits. It crawled beneath her skin, tickled her bones, and whispered in frequencies that didn't belong in a human ear.
Something under the earth…
...was breathing.
Then—it rose.
A rock thirty meters ahead cracked in half. Then another. Roots twisted upward like severed veins. Earth convulsed and tore open—not fast. Not violent.
Certain.
The creature emerged like a memory—unhurried, unstoppable.
Tall. Bare-chested. Broad shoulders dusted with centuries. Its claylike skin pulsed with green glowing veins, like the heartbeat of the ground had been carved into it. Its face was maskless, but anything but human—smooth, circular eyes, and a jaw etched with ancient symbols.
Reika froze.
Despite the heat, her breath misted.
"You are the purple one," it said. Its voice was a landslide, gravel across obsidian.
She answered without blinking.
"And you're stalling."
She slipped into stance. No fear. Just the flame in her blood.
The Shikiban tilted its head.
"I do not stall. I witness."
Her blade ignited.
The forest turned violet.
She moved.
Like lightning channeled into form, Reika lunged forward, katana screaming through the air—direct hit to the arm.
It didn't cut.
Stone drank fire like a grave absorbs mourning.
The Shikiban grinned with cracked teeth.
"I have buried gods, girl.
You are compost."
Suddenly—
BOOM.
A figure smashed through the treeline, body limp, spiraling through bark and bone.
Ishigo.
Daigo's voice cracked through the distance.
"ISSHIGOO!"
More rustling. More snapping. The others were under attack.
Reika's jaw clenched. She shifted.
"No time for you."
She stepped back—but the shadows shimmered.
A second Shikiban slid into reality, like he'd always been there.
Slimmer. Smiling.
Mocking.
"This one's mine," he said, voice high and twisted like a child's lullaby in reverse.
"Let the earth have her.
I just wanna see her bleed pretty."
His face was half-mask, half-skin. Stitched at the jaw. In one hand, he held a severed hand—not Ishigo's.
Someone else's.
"Do you remember your first kill, Reika? I do.
Mine screamed like birds drowning."
She didn't answer.
He danced forward. Graceful like a marionette missing strings.
She parried, sliced low. He twirled away, laughing.
"Ooooooh, almost! Gonna let the dragon burn me? I want it to!"
He licked his own shoulder where violet flame had scorched.
"You are not worth the breath," she said coldly,
"But you'll get the flame."
She focused.
The earth beneath her shimmered.
From above, a shaft of gold light broke the canopy—touched her shoulder. Warm. Calm. Real.
Then—
The forest cracked.
Not with sound.
Not with force.
Spiritually.
Something ancient brushed against her mind.
She swayed, but stood.
The Earth Shikiban stepped forward. The ground dipped beneath each footfall.
His eyes pulsed.
"She hears the gods," he whispered.
"Flawed vessel.
She should be broken before she burns."
The mocking one clapped, delighted.
"Was that the big voice? Did Daddy Flame say no?
He never loved you anyway!
You're just a copy of a copy!"
Reika didn't flinch.
She was seeing things. Visions not her own—hands like claws, cities burning in non-existent hues, a blade forged in starlight.
Her grip on Shinsoumei tightened. Her hands bled.
"This is my flame now.
Not yours.
Not his."
She vanished.
No—
She moved.
The air crackled as Reika moved, faster than thought, her blade a blur of motion, cutting through the air like an extension of herself. The Shikiban barely had time to react. Its throat, once full of words, now lay open, spilling its foul essence into the air.
"YOU CHEATED!" the Shikiban screeched, its voice a shrill sound that pierced the stillness of the forest. It stumbled, clawing at its neck, eyes wide with the kind of rage reserved only for something about to die.
But death was a familiar friend to the Shikiban. It was a creature made of cruelty, a twisted reflection of what had once been. It wasn't going down so easily.
Before Reika could strike again, the ground beneath her feet shook. The Earth Shikiban, massive and slow but no less deadly, raised its arm high—its fingers curling like a guillotine ready to fall.
Reika moved with the ease of a storm, twisting, ducking, her feet barely touching the ground before she was leaping again. Flames trailed behind her, blue and violet, like a comet's tail, leaving an arc of destruction in her wake.
"Earth Technique: Requiem Phoenix!" the Shikiban howled, voice cracking as its body surged with power.
The ground beneath them split, and massive stone pillars erupted from the earth, forming into something monstrous—wings arching, the body of a bird formed from jagged, obsidian-like stone. It screeched, a high-pitched sound that made the air vibrate, and charged forward with the power of a dying god.
Reika's eyes hardened. She lifted her blade high.
"Dragon Veil: Memory Fang."
The air itself seemed to hold its breath. Flame turned violet as Reika's will poured into her blade. In a flash, a dragon's skull formed around her, a blazing, ethereal thing, its eyes burning with the fire of ages. The dragon roared, a terrible sound that shook the heavens themselves. With a single leap, she hurtled toward the phoenix, her blade cutting through the air like a divine weapon.
The phoenix met her in midair.
The explosion of fire and stone was deafening.
The massive stone bird shattered like glass, molten shards raining down in every direction. But the Earth Shikiban wasn't done yet.
Before Reika could land, it was chanting again. The ground rumbled beneath her feet, a deep, guttural sound that made her stomach drop.
"Earth Technique: Tectonic Pulse."
The world buckled.
Stone pillars shot from the ground like claws reaching for the sky, jagged and unforgiving. One slammed into her side, deflecting off her armor but still sending a shockwave of pain through her body. She spun, muscles straining as she pushed herself into another evasive roll. Another pillar rose. She ducked. Another. She leapt, but the last one caught her leg midair.
Blood sprayed.
Pain. Searing, hot, unrelenting. Her body tumbled across the ground, the earth shattering around her as she fought to regain her balance. Her leg was on fire, the wound deep, but she didn't have time to dwell on it.
The Earth Shikiban moved closer, its slow, purposeful steps echoing like the approach of an inevitable death. Its eyes glowed green, its grin twisted.
"You are not your flame," it said, its voice low, mocking. "You are kindling."
Reika's chest heaved as she stood, her sword still in hand, but the fire in her eyes was fading. The flame she carried was a candle to this creature's immensity, and yet—her eyes flickered like dying stars. There was no quit in her. There never would be.
With a sudden burst of energy, Reika stabbed her blade into the ground.
BWOOM.
A shockwave of fire exploded outward from her, a ring of violet flame that swallowed the stone pillars whole, incinerating the jagged rocks and sending the Shikiban stumbling back, eyes wide with the sudden force.
But it wasn't enough.
She wasn't enough.
The Earth Shikiban sneered as it righted itself, its body vibrating with power. Reika stood in the midst of the flames, blood dripping from her wounds, her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. Her body was screaming at her to stop, but her spirit—her fire—refused to listen.
Meanwhile, not far away, Daigo stumbled through the forest, hoisting Ishigo's limp body over his shoulder. Blood dripped from the boy's mouth, staining Daigo's shirt as he jogged, breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps. Yeaga ran beside them, his twin katanas crackling faintly, eyes darting back every few steps as if he could feel something just out of sight, something watching them.
"Is that… Reika?" Daigo asked, his voice quiet, as he glanced over his shoulder.
Yeaga didn't answer immediately, but when he did, his voice was heavy with something between awe and unease.
"I think she's winning," Yeaga muttered, voice distant, eyes still fixed on the forest ahead.
Ishigo stirred slightly on Daigo's back, groaning. "Or losing everything to do it," he rasped, his voice weak, barely more than a whisper, but enough to send a cold chill down Daigo's spine.
They kept running.
Behind them, the trees began to glow. A pale light, like something holy was being broken open. Daigo slowed, eyes narrowing.
"That… that can't be good," Daigo muttered under his breath, but there was nothing he could do.
They had to keep moving.
As they neared a clearing, the oppressive silence of the forest shifted. The trees, the earth, everything was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The forest wasn't just a place anymore. It was a witness to this battle, a silent observer to the carnage unfolding before them.
The moment stretched out, and Daigo could feel the weight of it—the pulse of something ancient, something terrible, winding its way through the forest like an unseen thread. He glanced at Ishigo. His bloodied face was pale, his breath ragged.
And then, from the trees, a figure appeared.
Reika.
She was standing there, her blade in hand, her posture calm as ever, but her face was a mask of focused fury. Her eyes were fixed on something—on the Earth Shikiban, maybe. Or on the battle that was still raging inside her. The flames that surrounded her had dimmed, but the fire within her eyes was as fierce as ever.
"You all go ahead," Yeaga said suddenly, his voice firm, but strained. "I'll stay back."
Daigo looked at him, confusion flickering across his face. "What? You're not seriously gonna—"
"I'm not ready," Yeaga said, cutting him off. His eyes never left Reika, his face unreadable. "Not yet."
Daigo was about to protest, but Ishigo, weak and barely able to sit up, gave a quiet, pained laugh. "Yeah, bro, you're not fooling anyone."
Yeaga shot them both a look, his face serious. "I need to figure out what this power is. What it means."
Daigo stared at him, then shrugged. "Alright, man. But you better keep up when we find whatever the hell this is about."
And with that, they kept moving forward, but Yeaga remained behind, his eyes fixed on the distant battle as Reika stood against the tide of destruction. The forest held its breath, waiting to see who would break first.
The forest, it seemed, was as much a part of this war as they were.