Red Death S1

Ten years of survival.Ten years of evolution.And not once... did Ryu falter.

He moved through the wild like something that didn't belong to this age.

His skin was marred by a thousand battles—scars etched like forgotten runes.His hair, once black, now shimmered like burned silver, kissed by flame and time.His eyes?They no longer blinked in wonder—only calculated.

Ryu stepped beyond Hell Forest.And the world blinked first.

Yizo (quietly):So… we finally made it back to the world of men.

Ryu (flat):Did we ever leave?

He walked down a dirt path—not to any destination, just testing the lay of the land.

A flock of birds scattered the moment they sensed his mana. Even trees seemed to lean away.

He kept walking. No destination. Just forward. A faint wind tugged at his cloak—he didn't even blink.

They passed a burnt tree stump—charred long ago, half-buried in weeds. Yizo hesitated.

Yizo:We're near where your village used to stand.

Ryu (stops briefly):I know.

(beat)

Yizo:You're not going to look?

Ryu:Why? The dead don't speak.

Yizo said nothing.

Yizo (to himself):So the pain's still there.Just buried under ten layers of flame and bone.

The path began to shift—stone fragments, broken wood, patches of charred earth overtaken by moss.

Not far from where the village once stood, an old watchtower lay collapsed, its iron frame half-swallowed by nature.

Ryu walked past it like it was any other tree.

Yizo (low):You were born right near here.The others... they probably thought you died with the rest.

Ryu:Let them keep thinking that.

Yizo:So you don't care if they remember?

Ryu (quiet):They don't exist anymore.What matters is who made them disappear.

Suddenly—Ryu paused. His body didn't move, but his pupils narrowed like a predator sensing prey.

Ryu:...Blood.

A faint iron scent. Fresh. Wind carried it from beyond the hills.

Yizo:Could be a beast. Could be a man.Either way, it bleeds.

Ryu (calculating):Then it can die.

He shifted course, moving without urgency—but each step felt deliberate, like walking to war.

Ryu crested the hill.

Below: a caravan under attack—wagons overturned, horses dead, a few guards trying to hold the line against a monstrous creature with tusks and obsidian skin. A Grohl beast, native to southern jungles.

Yizo (surprised):How the hell did a Grohl end up this far north?

Ryu said nothing. He crouched slightly.

The ground cracked beneath his feet.

Yizo (dry):You're really going to intervene?

Ryu:No.

Yizo:Huh?

Ryu:I'm testing something.

Before the beast could kill the last guard, Ryu was already in motion—a blur of silence, a pressure wave in human form.

His foot landed beside the Grohl. It turned.

Too late.

A black flame burst from Ryu's palm into the beast's chest. It didn't burn—it collapsed, folding inward like a building imploding in reverse. No scream. No fight. Just a silent erasure.

The crater still smoked. Ash in the air.

The Guard stood frozen.Not one dared move.Not one dared speak.

Ryu turned his back on them, walking toward one of the shattered wagons. He moved without haste—not searching. Collecting.

He reached into the wreckage and pulled out a partially singed satchel. Inside, tucked between broken scrolls and scattered coins—a map.

Marked routes. Trade paths. Supply lines. Even hidden roads imperial scouts used.

He examined it in silence. Then turned toward the stunned guard who had asked who he was.

Ryu (cold, calm):I took what I wanted.

He tucked the map beneath his cloak.

He crouched beside a fallen guard—Pierced through the ribs, but still gripping a short sword.

Ryu (coldly precise):Armor's not standard. Lighter than imperial steel. Custom-forged, most likely bought privately.

(he checks the sword)

Ryu:Not ceremonial. Balanced for utility. Used... but recently sharpened. They were ready for a fight.

He moved to a shattered wagon, fingers brushing its edge. He picks up a splintered crate—burned sigil on the corner.

Ryu:This was a transport caravan… but not just merchants.Supply unit—maybe nobles. Maybe black-market trade.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at the grooves left by the wheels.

Ryu:Six wagons. Four still intact. That one was carrying mana stones—it exploded.That one had food reserves, judging by the bite marks from scavengers.The lead wagon was armored. Passenger unit.

He walked a few paces, eyes scanning the environment like a hunter parsing echoes.

Ryu:Nine guards total. Two archers. Six frontliners. One commander—judging by the cape fibers left in that torn boot.

He pointed with one finger toward the distance.

Ryu:The Grohl didn't come from nowhere. They passed through contaminated land.Either they took a shortcut through it homeland… or someone sent that beast.

Yizo (after a pause):...You weren't kidding when you said ten years taught you everything.

Ryu (flat):Everything that survives leaves behind a language.I just learned how to read it.

Ryu walked back toward the map. His finger traced one of the less-used trade routes.

Ryu (quietly):This caravan wasn't random.Someone's moving something illegal across imperial borders.

(beat)

Ryu:And the empire's letting it happen.

Yizo (tone shifts):So this isn't just war.

Ryu:No.It's a game.And I've just seen the board.

Ryu's presence lingered like the scent of ozone after lightning. He wasn't a man to thank. He was a force to survive.

Yizo (amused):You saved them just to loot them?

Ryu:I didn't save anyone.I removed an obstacle.

Yizo:And the map?

Ryu:Information is worth more than corpses.

As night fell, Ryu crouched by a stream. The moonlight glinted off his silver hair as he unfurled the map on a flat rock.

Yizo:What are you looking for?

Ryu (quietly):Imperial routes.I want to know where the plague spreads the fastest.

Yizo (serious now):You're planning something.

Ryu:Not yet.But when I move...I'll erase the Empire in a straight line.