The pitch-black night draped over the desolate mountains, the cold wind howling through the barren landscape, kicking up clouds of dust. Beneath the shadowy sky, a ruined village stood in eerie silence, like a forgotten relic of a bygone era. The wooden houses leaned precariously, their walls riddled with cracks, the ground uneven and littered with debris. The only source of light came from occasional bonfires, their dim flames casting flickering shadows across the faces of the gathered yokai—some twisted in cruelty, others indifferent and detached.
In the most secluded corner of the village, inside a decrepit wooden hut, ragged breaths broke the silence.
"Hah... Hah..."
A cascade of silver-white hair spread across the dirt floor as a young figure knelt within, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. His fingers dug into the ground, his body trembling as waves of pain wracked through him.
Agony.
A searing, soul-wrenching agony.
Every night, like clockwork, an uncontrollable force surged within him, clawing at his insides as if trying to tear him apart from within.
His bones felt like they were being split open by unseen blades, his blood boiled violently in his veins, and somewhere deep within his soul, an ancient power stirred—a power that whispered to him, beckoning him to let go, to break free, to unleash his true self.
But he couldn't.
If he lost control, the consequences would be disastrous.
"Damn it..."
Night Huan gritted his teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. He had no idea where his bloodline came from. All he knew was that he was different. An outcast among monsters. A forgotten existence, discarded by the world. In this village, he was nothing but a lowly errand boy, a weakling mocked by both humans and yokai alike.
A mere insect.
Bootsteps thudded against the ground outside.
"Night Huan!"
A sharp voice cut through the suffocating night air.
Lifting his head, Night Huan saw a massive silhouette blocking the doorway. The figure belonged to Black Fang, the head of the village's yokai guards.
Broad-shouldered and towering, Black Fang stood with arms crossed over his bare chest, muscles rippling beneath scarred skin. His yellow wolf-like eyes gleamed with cold amusement, and his lips curled into a smirk filled with disdain.
"You useless bastard, stop lazing around. Get moving."
Night Huan swallowed back the retort at the tip of his tongue. Resistance was meaningless. Weaklings had no right to defy the strong.
Without a word, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring the lingering pain that pulsed through his body, and followed Black Fang towards the village center.
The main square was dimly lit, the weak flames of a dying bonfire casting shifting patterns against the gathered yokai. Some sat in small clusters, muttering amongst themselves.
As Night Huan passed by, fragments of their conversation drifted to his ears.
"Hey, did you hear? A powerful beast has appeared in the forest nearby."
"Yeah, even Black Fang doesn't dare to go after it alone."
Night Huan's ears twitched, but he did not slow his pace. The outside world had little to do with him. At least, not yet.
Reaching the village well, he bent down, peering into the bottomless dark. His own reflection stared back at him—pale skin, silver hair, and golden eyes that held a distant glow. A face he barely recognized as his own.
A face that did not belong.
He had never known his parents. He was born different, marked by an unnatural lineage. While other yokai grew stronger upon awakening their bloodlines, his own power brought nothing but agony. A curse he had no control over.
He lifted the bucket of water and turned back, only to find his path blocked.
"Hey, trash."
A hulking yokai sneered down at him, his posture relaxed yet laced with menace.
"Black Fang says you're not welcome here."
Laughter echoed around them as several others joined in, their expressions dripping with malice.
Night Huan remained silent. His fingers clenched around the wooden bucket, the cold water sloshing inside.
"What? Got nothing to say?" The yokai stepped forward, his grin widening. "Or have you finally accepted your fate?"
The air was thick with unspoken violence. The bonfire flickered as if sensing the tension.
Night Huan exhaled slowly.
A single thought burned in his mind: This night would not end peacefully.
The wind howled, and the sky shifted, revealing a blood-red moon.
A cruel chuckle rang out. "Scared? Don't worry, we won't kill you. We'll just make sure you don't make it to morning."
A hand shot forward.
Night Huan moved on instinct, stepping back just in time to avoid the attack.
"Hah! Lucky." The yokai sneered. "But luck won't save you forever."
Another voice chimed in. "No point wasting time. Black Fang already decided—tomorrow, we throw this runt out of the village."
A final verdict.
Night Huan felt a cold weight settle in his chest. He had known this moment would come. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon.
His gaze lifted to the blood-red sky. His heart pounded against his ribs.
If he didn't prove his worth, he would be cast aside, forgotten forever.
Unless…
Unless he showed them his strength.
A faint glimmer of gold flashed in his eyes.
Perhaps tonight was the night everything changed.
His fists clenched. The power within him pulsed, whispering, urging.
Night Huan took a slow step forward. "You wanted to test me? Fine. Let's see how strong you really are."
The wind howled through the village, sweeping past the gathered yokai. The bonfire cast eerie shadows, illuminating the impending confrontation.
One yokai lunged, fist aimed at Night Huan's face.
He sidestepped, fluid as the night, his movements sharper than before. His hand snapped forward, seizing his attacker's wrist, and with a swift motion, he twisted and slammed the yokai into the dirt.
A dull thud echoed.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Tch…" Black Fang, watching from a distance, narrowed his eyes. "Interesting."
Night Huan exhaled, standing taller than before.
Tonight was only the beginning.
The real hunt was about to start.