Blood Of the Forsaken

The trail to the west was overgrown, the path narrowing as trees closed in above and around them like gnarled fingers. Rin moved quickly, careful not to jostle the sleeping boy cradled against his back. Every so often, the boy whimpered in his sleep—murmuring about the fire, the laughter, and the red eyes.

Each time, Rin's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened.

Ahead, Mei scouted the path in silence, every motion precise, calculated. She barely made a sound, despite the brittle twigs littering the forest floor. She paused often, scanning the surroundings like she expected an ambush at any moment.

And maybe she was right to.

Rin didn't say it out loud, but he had felt it too—that sensation crawling along his spine. They were being watched. But by what… or whom… he wasn't sure.

As they reached a ridge overlooking the next valley, Mei held up her hand, signaling Rin to stop. He crouched behind her, adjusting the boy's weight on his back as he peered past the tall grass.

The village of Kuroiwa lay below them, nestled at the foot of the mountains. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys, and oil lamps flickered in a handful of windows. For now, it lived.

But Rin felt no relief.

"That village," Mei said in a low voice, "has no guards. No walls. If the demon reaches it before we do…"

"It won't," Rin said firmly. "We'll stop it this time."

Mei didn't respond. Her eyes remained locked on the path winding down into the village. After a moment, she turned and started the descent. Rin followed.

They arrived just past midnight.

The villagers were wary at first—armed with pitchforks and torches, their fear barely masked by bravado. But the moment Mei displayed her Hunter insignia, the mood shifted. Murmurs turned to hope.

"You're here to stop the fire demon?" an elder asked. His eyes were cloudy with age, but his voice held a sharp edge. "We've heard stories… terrible stories."

"They're not stories," Rin said grimly. "They're warnings."

The elder nodded solemnly and beckoned them into the shrine at the center of town. Inside, the scent of incense filled the air, masking the underlying smell of old blood. Offerings had been placed at the foot of a faded statue—coins, rice, and dried flowers.

"What is this place?" Mei asked, eyes narrowing.

"The Shrine of Iza," the elder explained. "It's… old. Older than the village. Built to keep something sealed beneath the mountain. We don't know the full story, only what's been passed down. But we keep the shrine in good condition, just in case."

Mei and Rin exchanged a glance.

"Sealed?" Rin asked. "You mean like a demon?"

The old man nodded slowly. "That's the rumor. Some say it was once a human. Others say it was never human to begin with."

Rin's blood ran cold.

Outside, the wind picked up.

The boy they'd rescued stirred and sat up, clutching his blanket. His eyes were glassy, distant. Mei crouched beside him.

"Do you remember anything else?" she asked gently. "Anything at all?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded slowly. "It… it talked to me. After it killed everyone."

Mei's voice softened even further. "What did it say?"

The boy's lips trembled. "It said… 'You'll see what I used to be.'"

Silence filled the shrine.

Rin stood up sharply. "It used to be something else. That means it's changing… evolving."

"No," Mei said, her voice cold. "It's remembering."

Rin blinked. "What?"

She looked at him, her eyes haunted. "Some demons forget who they were. Others never knew. But this one? It remembers. It wants to show us."

As if summoned by their words, the candles inside the shrine flickered violently. Then a gust of wind slammed the doors shut.

The fire demon was near.

The boy screamed as visions flooded his mind—visions of a mountain split open, chains torn apart, and a name echoing through the dark.

Kazai.

Rin drew his blade.

Mei unsheathed her twin knives.

And from deep in the forest, beyond the last row of trees, something began to walk toward Kuroiwa—slowly, patiently, like it had all the time in the world.

The hunters would face it tonight.

And they would learn what Kazai truly wa