As the city continued to sink deeper into crisis, piles of rubble from destroyed homes did not deter Yashiro from searching for his father and younger brother. Yet, his efforts were in vain, as if they had vanished into thin air.
Yashiro thought to himself: Where the hell could they be? I've searched the entire area with others who joined me in the search, and this is Makato's arm—it's severed. But if he were running away, there should be a trail of blood. Indeed, there's a small pool of blood where his arm was lying, but in no direction is there a single drop of blood from his escape. Why is he such a stupid kid?! I told him not to move from down there while I went out to see what was happening! And even though I went so far out, I came back safely, and he's nowhere to be found. Not only him, but Father as well. I saw what happened—none of them were taken or kidnapped. All I felt was a slight disturbance in the air shortly after I left. This is so strange!
While Yashiro was pondering all the possible ways his family could have disappeared, a tall, armored blonde man approached him with a few soldiers by his side.
Yashiro: "Saro… Did you find anything?"
Saro: "Young master, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no. We searched every district, every house still standing, and those that aren't. We called out, but there were no answers. The city is vast, but that doesn't mean he can just hide. Moreover, wouldn't a severely injured, bleeding child scream upon having his arm sliced off? I even used my authority to question the gate guards, who were terrified of the events that took place, but they told me that not a single human or animal used the gate to exit the city. And he certainly could not have jumped over the wall—it's a hundred meters tall."
Yashiro: "I get it. Give me a couple of days to prepare myself, and I will set out to find Kyashi, at least. You go back to your outpost, organize a search for any other missing people and those trapped under the rubble, and kill anyone who seems suspicious, even for a millisecond."
Saro: "Understood, young master!"
Desperate and not knowing what to do, Yashiro confined himself in his battle-damaged home. As he lay in bed, depressed, he fell asleep. When he woke up, distressed by the same sinister dream but this time recalling it much more vividly, he knew it had something to do with his aching leg. He decided to visit the local priest to ask about his future.
Yashiro to himself: It was dark. Incredibly dark. I couldn't feel anything, and yet I felt everything. I couldn't see my own hands. It was pulsating, almost like a heart. It was telling me something, but I can't remember what. It was intense—it felt like I was being choked to death by the darkness that engulfed me. I don't know what it is, but something is wrong with my leg—there's something in it, and I don't know what to do. I have to seek help.
It was nighttime, and Yashiro went to the local district church to seek guidance. He made his way there peacefully and entered the church, where only the priest sat alone in complete silence.
Priest: "Come inside, young master."
Yashiro: "Good evening, Father Daba."
Father Daba: "The look on your face says a lot about your mental state, young master. Is there something I can do to help?"
Yashiro: "I… I don't know. My family disappeared, and I don't know what to do. Where do I go? Where do I search? Kyashi is still immature, and on top of that, he can't even kill an ant. He despised any combat training since he first stood on his own."
Father Daba: "Have you heard about the Prophecy of the Blue Sun?"
Yashiro: "The Prophecy of the Blue Sun? What is that?"
Father Daba: "It tells the tale of a farmer boy who was the kindest person in the world but was cursed to carry the entire weight of the sun. One day, he will return to this mortal plane of ours to take away those who cursed him."
Yashiro: "Why are you telling me this?"
Father Daba: "I see a similar situation with your little brother. He may be small and immature, but he's a descendant of the great Emperor Makato, your father. Makato spilled an unimaginable amount of blood to create this empire long before you were born. Legends say that when this empire was being formed, the sky was red every morning to indicate the bloodshed from the night before. The redder it was, the more blood had been spilled. What I'm trying to say is that your little brother is probably fine. His survival instincts kicked in when they were needed most."
Yashiro: "Thank you, Father Daba. I've found the courage I needed. I will take my leave now."
Father Daba: "God be with you, young master."
Yashiro made his way home, pondering the priest's words. He then went back to sleep. As he was sinking deeper into slumber, a mysterious figure appeared beside his bed—dressed in black clothes, a black cape, and a scarf, with only red eyes visible.
The Mysterious Man: "Do not make a fuss. I am here to help you with your 'condition.'"
Yashiro: "Wha… Who are you? And what condition?"
The Mysterious Man: "I'm talking about your leg. Have you forgotten about it?"
Yashiro: "How do you know about my leg? Who the hell are you?"
The Mysterious Man: "It's pointless to ask me that now…"
As the mysterious man was finishing his sentence, Yashiro grabbed the sword Makato left him and swiped at the man's face, but to no avail. It was as if the blade passed right through him without touching him at all.
The Mysterious Man: "There's no need to do that. You will only end up getting hu—"
For the second time, Yashiro swiped, this time aiming at the man's neck. But the man disappeared, and suddenly Yashiro found himself on the ground in a chokehold.
The Mysterious Man: "Calm yourself before I split you open. I am here to tell you something you should know."
Yashiro: "GET OFF ME, YOU BASTARD!"
The Mysterious Man: "Do you want to end up like your brother?"
Yashiro was shocked to the core, unable to speak.
The Mysterious Man: "So you will listen after all. What you have in your leg is the source of your aches and your dreams. It's something you're not yet ready to comprehend. But I know where you can face it. Whether you overcome it and live to tell the tale, or drown in yourself, get consumed, and die miserably—that is up to you."
Yashiro: "What do you mean? Consumed by what?"
The Mysterious Man: "It."
Yashiro: "And what must I do?"
The Mysterious Man: "You must go to the Obsidian Realm, to the Devil Peak's volcano."
Yashiro: "All the way there? I've heard that few who go there ever return alive."
The Mysterious Man: "And why do you think that is?"
Yashiro: "I have no idea."
The Mysterious Man: "As I told you, you will either overcome it or be consumed by it. People go there to face their fears and die doing so. What you have isn't a fear—it's coexisting within you. Not everyone in this world is both blessed and cursed as you and your family are. Your father made sure of that."
After hearing this, Yashiro woke up with a little more knowledge of what he must do, but he couldn't differentiate whether what happened was real or a dream. After having breakfast, he heard a knock on his door and went to answer it.
Yashiro: "Saro! It's you."
Saro: "Young master! I have news. You have been summoned by the royal senate to be crowned as Emperor, as word has spread through the lands that Lord Makato has died. We need to avoid being vulnerable, or we might find ourselves under attack again."
Yashiro: "I understand. Let's go."
Yashiro thought to himself: That attack wasn't because of any of our empire's matters. No territory was their goal. But it all happened in an instant—they were after something else… or someone. But why? That's what I can't wrap my head around.
After arriving at the royal palace, the entire senate agreed to crown Yashiro as their second emperor, and the ceremony began. The palace was crawling with people eager to see and support the new king. Just as they crowned him, scouts from the outer walls rushed to the castle center and made their way to the royal palace, disturbing the senate and Yashiro with urgent news:
Scouts: "Your Lordship! We've spotted a medium-sized Morfiem army heading our way. Our beyond-the-border scouts informed us that they are slowly approaching on foot. They are expected to reach the castle walls in two days!"
Yashiro: "No panic this time. I, the second Emperor of the great Uchimasu Empire, hereby proclaim in front of all these people: WAR on the Morfiem Empire and Heaven City!"
Yashiro: "Saro!"
Saro: "Sir!"
Yashiro: "Mobilize all available forces. We will confront them at the Cursed Pond."
Saro: "Yes, sir!"
Saro Asashi, the head of the Uchimasu Empire's military and the most renowned knight in the lands, went to the barracks and gathered all the elite strategists, engineers, and medical practitioners to form an intercepting army for the impending attack. Among them was Zani Enju, rumored to be the best war strategist on the continent. Together with Makato, Zani had orchestrated the battles that established the foundations of the Uchimasu Empire.
Saro: "General Zani."
Zani: "I've heard the news."
Saro: "Do you already have a plan?"
Zani: "Don't worry, youngster."
Saro: "So, what do you intend to do?"
Zani: "The young emperor certainly has a gift."
Saro: "In what sense?"
Zani: "He immediately decided to position the battle at the Cursed Pond, which is, given our time constraints and current circumstances, the most strategic location for a confrontation. The camps are already established there; we just need to move our troops."
Saro: "I'll lead my soldiers there. Send your requests through a messenger, and they will be delivered to us."
Zani: "I'll do that."
As the newly crowned emperor prepared to lead his army to the Cursed Pond, he first went to his old home before moving into the royal palace. He wanted to retrieve the sword himself, not trusting anyone else to carry it. Then, he decided to descend into the basement where he and his brother had hidden during the attack. The basement, which was Makato's personal library, held many books, several of which had titles related to the Prophecy of the Blue Sun that Father Daba had mentioned. Yashiro thought to himself: What kind of importance could this talk of a second sun hold? So far away that it doesn't affect our world at all…
As he tried to take a book from the shelf, he accidentally discovered a hidden room behind the shelf that seemed to have been used not long ago.
Yashiro cautiously stepped into the hidden room, his senses on high alert. The room was small, dimly lit by a single candle on a wooden table. The walls were lined with shelves filled with scrolls and ancient texts, most of them covered in dust, suggesting they hadn't been touched in years. However, the table held a few items that caught his attention—a map of the Obsidian Realm, a sealed envelope bearing the royal crest, and an old, leather-bound journal.
Yashiro opened the journal, recognizing his father's handwriting. The entries were scattered, written in haste, detailing his father's concerns about the empire's stability, the growing threat of the Morfiem Empire, and cryptic references to "the curse within the bloodline." As he flipped through the pages, he found an entry that sent a chill down his spine:
"The day is nearing when the prophecy of the Blue Sun will come to pass. The burden of our family's legacy weighs heavily on my shoulders, but it is my sons who will bear the true cost. Yashiro, if you ever read this, know that your journey will be fraught with danger. The path to the Devil Peak's volcano is not just a physical one, but a journey into the depths of your own soul. The curse that plagues our family is tied to that place, and only there can you face the darkness within you."
Yashiro's mind raced. His father had known about the curse, the prophecy, and the connection to Devil Peak. The mysterious man's words suddenly made more sense, and the weight of what he had to do became even heavier.
Yashiro carefully folded the map and placed the journal in his bag, then opened the sealed envelope. Inside was a letter addressed to him:
"My son, by the time you read this, the fate of our empire will likely rest on your shoulders. The Devil Peak holds the key to our salvation or our doom. The power that lies dormant within you is both a blessing and a curse. You must master it, or it will consume you. Trust in your instincts, but beware of those who seek to manipulate you for their own gain. I wish I could guide you in person, but know that I have always believed in your strength. Lead our people with wisdom and courage. With love, Father."
Yashiro felt a surge of emotion, a mix of fear, determination, and a deep longing for his father's presence. But there was no time to dwell on these feelings. He had to prepare for the battle ahead and, eventually, the journey to Devil Peak.
As Yashiro left the hidden room and made his way back upstairs, he resolved to fulfill his father's wishes, to confront the curse within him, and to protect his brother—wherever he might be. With the sword in hand, he headed to the royal palace to lead his people in the impending war.
At the palace, the atmosphere was tense. Soldiers were preparing for battle, strategists were poring over maps, and the air was thick with the anticipation of conflict. Yashiro met with Saro and Zani to finalize their plans.
Yashiro: "The battle at the Cursed Pond will determine our future. We must be prepared for anything."
Zani: "The Morfiem forces are strong, but we have the advantage of terrain and preparation. We will hold them off."
Saro: "Our troops are ready. We've fortified our defenses and set up traps along their expected route."
Yashiro: "Good. We cannot afford to lose this battle. Not just for the empire, but for my family."
As the Uchimasu forces moved out towards the Cursed Pond, Yashiro couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The words of the mysterious man echoed in his mind, mingling with his father's warnings. He knew the battle was only the beginning. The real challenge lay beyond the battlefield, in the heart of the Devil Peak.
As the sun began to set, casting an eerie glow over the land, Yashiro stood at the front lines, sword in hand, ready to face the approaching Morfiem army. The fate of the empire—and his own—hung in the balance.