Chapter 31 - Saving
Deep within the tranquil grounds of the Mizuki estate, the sharp, rhythmic swish of a blade cut through the quiet morning air. Ren moved fluidly across the courtyard, his sword carving precise, practiced arcs. Silver sweat beaded on his forehead as he focused intensely.
Then—
KRA-KOOM! KRA-KOOM!
The previously serene, azure sky above the estate vanished, swallowed whole by an unnaturally fast-moving mass of bruised, violent clouds. The sudden darkness fell over the courtyard like a heavy shroud, plunging the once-peaceful grounds into an oppressive, suffocating gloom.
Ren froze, his blade halting mid-swing.
Lowering his stance, he looked up at the raging heavens, his brow furrowing deeply. The air around him had grown unnervingly thick, charged with crackling static that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A cold, sudden knot of dread tightened in his chest, a primal instinct screaming that this was no ordinary weather.
'Did something happen?' he thought, his grip tightening instinctively around the hilt of his sword.
Sheathing his sword with a sharp clink, Ren strode briskly toward the main house. A deep, gnawing worry settling in his gut. 'I need to see what's happening out there,' he decided, his pace quickening.
Sliding the heavy wooden door open, he called out into the quiet halls. "Kon! I’m heading out for a bit!"
Without waiting for a response or offering a single word of explanation, he pivoted on his heel and marched right back toward the front gates. Bless the boy's painfully honest heart, he could have easily slipped away unnoticed in the gloom, but his straightforward nature simply wouldn't allow it.
Deeper inside the estate, tucked away in a quiet tatami room, Kon had been staring blankly at the wall, dazed by his own thoughts when Ren's abrupt shout instantly shattered his stupor.
"Huh...?"
It took a split second for the fox's brain to process the boy's words. ‘Heading out?! Now?!’ Sheer panic struck him like a physical blow. Scrambling clumsily to his paws, Kon practically threw himself toward the hallway. "WAIT! Ren, stop! You are absolutely not supposed to go outside!"
Pushing his body to its absolute limits, Kon sprinted frantically down the corridors, chasing desperately after the young swordsman before he could cross the threshold.
By some sheer miracle of adrenaline, Kon managed to intercept Ren just before the boy could cross the shimmering threshold of the Inner Kyoto barrier.
"Wait... huff... huff..." Kon collapsed onto his four paws, panting weakly at the young swordsman, who had finally halted at his sudden intrusion.
"...Go... back... Ren-chan..." the little fox wheezed, his lungs practically burning. 'This child is way too fast! Dammit, it’s all that stupid Tengu’s fault for teaching him!' Kon cursed fiercely in his head, blaming the boy's agility entirely on an innocent Tengu instructor rather than admit his own glaring weakness.
"Kon..." Ren frowned slightly, looking down at his exhausted best friend. "Don't block the way. I have to go," he stated, his voice quiet but carrying a solemn weight.
"No! It's too dangerous out there!" Kon barked, having finally caught enough of his breath to shout. He planted his paws firmly on the ground, glaring up at the boy and refusing to budge a single inch.
Seeing the unyielding firmness in the little fox's eyes, Ren’s rigid posture softened. "Please... Kon," he pleaded softly, before his voice hardened with quiet resolve. "I am strong now."
At those words, Kon’s ears wilted flat against his head. A wry, heartbroken smile crept onto his furry face. "Yeah... You are stronger now... aren't you?"
'So strong that you don't need me to protect you anymore,' Kon thought bitterly, a painful, heavy ache blooming in his chest. 'Just like your mother back then...'
Fat tears began to well up, spilling like little pearls from Kon’s eyes and dampening his fur. "Please... Ren-chan... You cannot go..." he whimpered, his shimmering eyes looking up in a desperate plea.
Seeing his best friend in such a vulnerable state, a heavy bout of hesitation crashed into Ren. He opened his mouth, desperately wanting to offer some comfort. "I..."
But the words died in his throat. The unnatural storm raging above demanded an answer, and the feeling of dread in his gut wouldn't let him stay. Swallowing his guilt, Ren tore his gaze away from the crying Yokai. Unable to bear looking at Kon any longer, he turned his back and began walking deliberately toward the shimmering barrier.
But before Ren could take another step, the shimmering energy of the barrier directly in front of him distorted. It rippled outward in glowing, concentric circles, vibrating just like a still pool of water disturbed by a single, heavy drop.
Ren froze, his instincts screaming at him as the air grew suffocating.
Then, a pale hand effortlessly pierced through the magical construct. It slid inward without a single ounce of resistance, followed smoothly by an arm, a set of broad shoulders, and finally, the imposing figure of a man clad in a pristine white robe.
"What a coincidence," the man noted calmly, a chilling, venomous hint of glee bleeding through his smooth voice as his eyes locked onto the boy standing before him.
**********
Meanwhile, in the unprotected streets of Outer Kyoto...
"AHHHHH!!!"
Agonized screams still tore through the air. The streets were a chaotic blur of panic as terrified civilians trampled over one another, desperately trying to flee the burning disaster zone.
Tucked away in the shadows of a ruined alleyway, a little girl huddled tightly into a corner. She clutched a dirt-smudged stuffed bunny to her chest, tears streaming down her soot-covered cheeks. "Mama..." she whimpered, her tiny voice completely drowned out by the roaring fires.
"Hoh? What do we have here? A little stray?" A black-robed cultist paused, his twisted gaze falling upon the child. A sickeningly wide, menacing grin stretched across his face. "Hehehe..." Dragging his boots against the rubble, he began a slow, predatory approach.
Seeing the nightmare drawing closer, the little girl’s pupils dilated in terror. She pressed her back hard against the unyielding brick wall, her small body trembling uncontrollably like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
The sadistic cultist reached out, his claw-like fingers stretching eagerly toward her face.
"Mama..." she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut in a final, desperate prayer.
SHOOOM!
A violent, shrieking gale suddenly ripped through the alley.
BOOM!
The thunderous crack of a shattered sound barrier detonated right above them.
KRA-CRACK! The solid asphalt mere inches in front of the little girl caved in with the devastating force of a meteor strike. A massive shockwave pulverized the ground, sending a dense cloud of dust and jagged debris exploding outward.
"How dare you."
The voice that echoed from the epicentre of the crater was deep, vibrating with a cold, murderous fury.
As the thick veil of dust began to settle, the towering, imposing silhouette of a winged humanoid figure slowly materialized within the ruins.
The cultist paused his assault, his hand still hovering in the air. Lowering his arm, he tilted his head, a playful, unbothered smirk returning to his lips as he peered into the settling dust.
As the thick dust finally settled, the imposing, winged silhouette of the Tengu Captain came clearly into view.
"Oh? A Tengu~?" the cultist questioned playfully, his tone sickeningly light and completely unfazed by the cratered earth before him.
Kōrōbō didn't answer. His eyes were entirely bloodshot, blazing with an unrestrained, suffocating fury. A heavy, violently murderous aura erupted from his body, bearing down entirely onto the black-robed man like a physical weight.
"Die."
A cold order intoned. Then, without another word, Kōrōbō simply vanished from sight.
'!!!' Caught completely off guard by the blinding speed, the cultist’s playful smirk froze. He couldn't even twitch a single muscle to react.
SHLUCK!
A sickening spray of crimson violently painted the ruined asphalt.
'Ah. Looks like I’m dead,' the cultist thought, oddly calm as his perspective suddenly and violently spun through the air.
As his severed head plummeted toward the earth, his lips stretched back into a grotesque, impossibly wide grin. Still conscious in his fleeting, fading seconds, the decapitated head locked its gaze onto Kōrōbō and silently mouthed three chilling words:
'I'll be back.'
Thud. The heavy, wet sound of the severed head and the collapsing, fountain-like torso hitting the pavement echoed through the ruined alleyway.
Just as Kōrōbō reached out to inspect the severed torso, a blinding flash of light erupted from beneath the cultist's black robes. Before the Tengu Captain could even flinch, the brilliant light vanished, taking the mangled corpse right along with it.
Kōrōbō let his outstretched hand fall slowly back to his side. His sharp eyes narrowed at the empty, bloodstained pavement. 'Teleportation magic,' he thought solemnly, committing the strange phenomenon to memory.
Forcing the unsettling disappearance to the back of his mind, Kōrōbō turned his attention to the cowering little girl. Kneeling to make his towering frame look as small as possible, he softened his rough voice. "Ojou-san, are you alright?" he asked calmly, doing his absolute best to reassure the traumatized child.
"Hiiiii!" The girl shrieked in absolute terror.
Instead of seeing a hero, her wide, tear-filled eyes locked completely onto the Tengu's imposing, inhuman avian face and the terrifying, blood-soaked sword still grasped in his hand.
"Ah..." Seeing her sheer panic, the fierce Captain's imposing aura wilted drastically. He let out a heavy, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping. Standing back up to his full height, he prepared to use a gentle way to render the girl unconscious so he could safely carry her out of the ruins.
But just as he raised his hand, a desperate, tearful voice tore through the alleyway. "Rin!!!"
"Mama!" The little girl's head snapped up. Scrambling to her feet and stumbling blindly over the rubble, she launched herself toward the approaching woman, crashing into her mother's arms and sobbing uncontrollably into her chest.
Kōrōbō paused, dropping his hand as a profound wave of relief washed over his stern, feathered face. Standing right beside the weeping mother was a sleek, two-tailed Nekomata, clearly a guide from the evacuation teams sent by their matriarch.
The Tengu Captain exchanged a firm, silent nod of acknowledgment with the feline Yokai. His duty here was done. With a single, explosive thrust of his raven wings, Kōrōbō launched himself back into the violently churning sky, rocketing toward the next disaster zone.
Safe within the warm embrace of her mother, the little girl slowly turned her head. She peeked over her mother's trembling shoulder, her gaze drawn upward by the powerful gust of wind left in the winged warrior's wake.
A single, pristine black feather drifted gently down from the stormy heavens.
"Ah..." the child breathed softly, watching the distant, soaring silhouette disappears into the dark clouds. "Thank you... Tengu-san."
The paralyzing terror that had gripped her only moments ago finally melted away. As she stared up at the churning sky, her wide, tear-stained eyes shone with a faint, beautiful spark of wonder.
**********
Meanwhile, on a wide, burning avenue in another district of Kyoto...
BOOM!
The earth ruptured violently as a gigantic, nine-tailed fox constructed entirely of dense, shifting wood erupted from the pavement.
Standing tall upon the head of the massive wooden construct was a woman, her twin fox ears twitching sharply amidst the ash-filled wind. Her piercing golden eyes looked down at the chaotic street below, simmering with a terrifyingly calm rage.
Ethereal, crimson markings had manifested across her beautiful face, radiating raw power. Three distinct, whisker-like stripes framed each of her cheeks, while a striking, blood-red 'O' shape rested perfectly between her brows. Sharp, vivid red markings swept upward from the corners of her eyes like war paint, completing her awe-inspiring visage.
Guided by a mere thought, the massive wooden construct lunged. Its two gigantic paws swept violently across the ruined avenue, snatching up two black-robed cultists who had been terrorizing the fleeing civilians.
Looking down coldly at the thrashing, screaming men trapped in her construct's grasp, Yako slowly clenched her hands.
Mimicking her exact movements, the colossal wooden paws squeezed mercilessly inward. The frantic struggling stopped abruptly with a sickening medley of cracking bones. Mangled beyond repair, the cultists' legs dangled limply in the air, dripping crimson onto the streets below.
Her golden eyes entirely devoid of pity, Yako released her grip. 'Fodders,' she thought with disdain.
Splat. The crushed, lifeless bodies hit the cracked pavement with a heavy, wet thud.
Without so much as a backward glance, Yako commanded her towering construct forward. Despite its colossal size, the wooden fox moved with startling agility, gracefully leaping over the panicked crowds as it bounded toward the next disaster zone.
But the moment her back was turned, a familiar, blinding flash of light erupted from beneath the mangled black robes.
In the blink of an eye, the light vanished, taking both of the crushed corpses with it, leaving behind nothing but a chillingly empty pool of blood on the Kyoto streets.