I can’t have been unconscious more than a few minutes. The first thing I felt when my senses returned was a crushing weight pinning me to the ground. Dazed, I struggled to breathe and realized I was trapped beneath the dead body of that unicorn-beast. At the same moment my dagger had torn open its jugular, its heavy horn must have clipped my head, and the whole bulk collapsed on top of me. Only the soft, swampy soil saved me from being flattened like a pancake.


    Wriggling out from under that carcass took nearly everything I had left, and when I finally staggered to my feet, the beast’s half-dried blood was caked in my hair and smeared across my arms and legs. I probably looked like I’d crawled out of a nightmare, but it didn’t matter. My captive Karasu had vanished into the sky, and a barrier of thick forest cut off any view of the horizon.


    I needed a vantage point. I chose the tallest tree I could see and climbed, quickly as possible, until the canopy opened around me. From the treetop I glimpsed the sun, red and low. Maybe an hour remained before nightfall. Off to the south, the forest ended and gave way to open grassland. Thin gray smoke curled up from the half-ruined silhouette of a city. Then, in the distance, I caught sight of the Karasu who’d knocked me off his back. He was dropping down among those broken walls, presumably to rest. Or maybe he’d circled back to see if I was still alive.


    I cursed under my breath. So much for surprising him. Then, no sooner had he vanished behind the old marble spires than he shot skyward again—this time with frantic speed. He darted south so fast it left my jaw hanging. If he’d been planning to meet his clan, why flee like a spooked deer?


    Shaking my head, I descended. Whatever had driven him off, it might also hold a clue about Aiko. If she was still alive, I needed to find her trail, and those ruins looked like my only lead. I began forcing my way through the thick undergrowth, ignoring the slither of hidden reptiles and the low growls echoing among the roots. Dusk was deepening, and Kigen’s nocturnal life was stirring.


    ***


    By the time I broke free of the forest, night had fully fallen. The moon hung low, casting a silvery sheen across the plain. The eerie ruins shimmered with a ghostly white glow. Straight away I noticed these walls weren’t built from the coarse, greenish stone favored by the Kijin. This was marble—and that stirred a cold knot in my gut. The orcs of Koseki had told me dark legends of marble cities abandoned since the dawn of time, haunted by horrors you didn’t want to meet.


    Shadows clung between fallen columns and half-collapsed arches. A hush lay upon the place, so total it felt like even the wind held its breath. No warthogs rooting in the rubble, no hyenas lurking. It was as if the entire city was a tomb, sealed off from the rest of Kigen.


    I picked my way through smashed corridors and broken courtyards, sword in hand. I was half expecting a Karasu ambush, or maybe some fanged predator to pounce from a dark corner. Instead, I found a wide plaza, ringed by shattered pillars. A smoldering campfire flickered in the center, spitting embers at the sky. What I saw in that weak glow made my stomach clench.


    Bodies. Or rather, pieces of bodies. Limbs and entrails, lumps of black flesh, empty eye sockets, severed hands curled into final claws. They wore the dark, leathery wings and ebon skin of the Karasu. Something had blindsided them here, near that lonely fire, and ripped them to shreds with a ferocity beyond belief. It was as though a savage fury had torn them limb from limb, flung their remains about like trash, and then broken the bones for marrow. The place reeked of blood and animal stench.


    Worst of all, I saw lumps of roasting meat skewered above the fire. Karasu are rumored to feed on human flesh, but I didn’t realize they’d do it so casually. Yet that’s what it was. They’d been barbecuing a person. My stomach churned until I forced it back under control. At least the meat was from thick, muscular limbs—a man’s, not a woman’s. A tremor of relief hit me. If Aiko had been here, she wasn’t part of the “meal.”


    But then where was she? Had she escaped, or been snatched up by the nameless killers who shredded these Karasu? The sheer terror in this place spoke to some lurking menace. I felt unseen eyes watch me from behind the fragments of broken marble. Still, I followed the only clue I had: a faint trail of blood droplets leading past a row of toppled pillars. Maybe it’d guide me to these new attackers—and maybe to Aiko as well.


    Beyond the pillars lay a half-crumbled building draped in moss. The roof was missing in places, letting the moonlight seep inside. A narrow corridor sank below the main floor, stairs descending into deeper darkness. The blood trail continued that way, so I started down, trying not to think about how it smelled of stale wet stone and old, old death.


    Then, I heard it: “Kai…Kai…!” The voice echoed faintly through the blackness, quivering with what sounded like fear.


    My heart jolted. I wanted to call back, but caution strangled me. Could Aiko possibly have known I was in earshot? She might be calling blindly, a terrified cry in the dark. Or it might be someone—or something—imitating her voice. Chills sprang up the back of my neck. Still, I pressed forward.


    The darkness felt bottomless until my hand brushed a doorway. I froze. Something waited in there. My instincts screamed the presence of a living creature. I whispered her name in a low, urgent murmur. No response, just a soft raspy sound, as if bristles scraped stone. Then a pair of eyes flickered in the black—a pair of orbs as large as my open palms, with a sinister yellow glow. A wave of raw animal panic surged through me, so I pulled back and hurried farther down the corridor, retreating from that horrifying gaze.


    I had no idea how many branching tunnels led away. Then that voice came again: “Kai…Kai…” It sounded closer, but there was something…off. Despite everything, I advanced, tensing for an ambush. Suddenly it changed. The name rose to a shrill pitch—then twisted into an inhuman cackle that set every hair on my body upright. That was no plea for rescue. It was pure mocking sadism.


    A hundred echoes joined in, repeating my name over and over from every tunnel: “Kai, Kai, Kai…”—like a chorus of twisted parodies. My mind reeled. It felt like I’d wandered into the devil’s own carnival. I lost it. With a furious bellow, I charged blindly in the direction of the loudest jeers. I ran headlong into a stone wall, busting my lip, while a hundred shrill voices whooped in unholy mirth.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Whirling, I found another passage and stormed down it in blind rage. Finally, I burst into a wide underground chamber with a single shaft of moonlight cutting across it. Then, at last, I heard a genuine scream—pure terror, very human:


    “Kai! Oh, Kai!”


    It was Aiko’s voice this time, no question. I saw her sprawled on the floor in that ghostly patch of moonlight. Furry, misshapen shapes crouched at her wrists and ankles, pinning her down.


    “Let her go!” I roared, and charged. Instantly, the darkness around me erupted with life: a swarm of stunted, apish figures throwing themselves at my knees, trying to drag me down. They sank fangs into my flesh, clawed my sides. But none of it stopped me. I swung my sword in savage arcs, hacking a path toward Aiko. My blade sliced and crunched through fur and bone, and though I was half smothered, I forged on.


    Reaching her side, I saw the monstrous things clutching her limbs. One whistling slash of my sword sent them scuttling back. Aiko scrambled upright and threw her arms around me. The swarm closed in again, so I spotted a half-toppled stone stairway behind us. I shoved her toward it and whirled, covering her retreat. The fight continued in pitch darkness, our only illumination a bit of moonlight that teased the top steps. Fangs tore at my legs, claws raked my arms. My sword rose and fell, splitting skulls I couldn’t see. I heard them squealing, chattering, but no actual language.


    Step by step, I backed up that rickety staircase, Aiko clinging behind me. If more of them had come at us from above, we’d have been finished. But apparently the entire pack was below. By the time I reached the upper chamber—a collapsed hall open to the moonlight—I was drenched in sweat and blood, my ears ringing. I could barely make out the shapes lunging at me in the gloom, but I cut at anything that moved, forcing them back. Gasping for breath, I guided Aiko to an opening in the far wall where she managed to slip out onto a marble courtyard.


    Then they made a final surge, piling onto me in a shrieking mass. Panic flared—dying in that black crypt of vermin was not how I pictured my end. I clenched my teeth and roared, thrusting and slashing with berserk abandon, until I burst through. Half a dozen of them tumbled with me out through the shattered wall.


    Dazed, I staggered upright. More of those creatures swarmed after us, shapes like twisted apes with filthy white fur and doglike muzzles, but their eyes were reptilian. Disgust warred with fury in my gut. I raised my sword again, ready to sell my life dearly.


    And then I saw something else scuttle out of that broken wall—a squat shadow bigger than a bull. The moonlight caught two enormous, lantern-like eyes. Before I could react, the massive shape plunged into the mass of dog-headed vermin. They screamed, scattering in every direction, but it was too late. It was a spider, broader than I believed possible, easily the size of an ox, moving with lightning speed on eight bristly legs. The first wave of creatures died under its mandibles, their heads cracked like eggs. The rest turned to flee, but the spider raced among them, ripping them apart, crunching bones, spraying the pavement with gore. In seconds, none remained but twitching limbs.


    Panting, I realized the spider was now eyeing me. It had come for me, following the scent of my blood from the fight below. The dog-men were mere collateral. Under the moonlight I saw its hideous black form fully, those giant jaws twitching, greenish slime dripping from its fangs. It gathered itself, ready to pounce.


    I spotted a chunk of crumbling masonry, as big as a small boulder. Snatching it up, I hurled it with all the desperate might I could muster. It struck the spider’s abdomen, eliciting a spurt of disgusting green fluid. The beast staggered but kept coming, dragging a few crushed legs behind. I grabbed another stone, then another, raining them down until with a final shudder it collapsed in a slimy heap. The courtyard reeked of putrid fluid and freshly splattered blood.


    I wasted no time. Scooping up Aiko, I ran until the city’s pale marble towers lay behind us and the broad grasslands opened up under the waning moon. Only then did I set her down. She’d made no sound since I’d first ripped her free from that subterranean den. Now, turning to look at her, I saw she’d fainted in my arms. That alone told me how horrific her ordeal had been—Kijin women rarely succumb to shock.


    I knelt, letting her rest on the soft grass. For the first time, I noticed how the moonlight accentuated the delicate lines of her face, the slender shape of her limbs, the graceful curve of her shoulders. Her tunic strap had slipped off, revealing just a glimpse of one breast. A flutter of feelings I hadn’t let myself acknowledge stirred in my chest.


    “Aiko,” I whispered. My voice sounded hoarse. She stirred, eyes flickering open. A surge of panic raced across her face, and she reached out, clutching me like a drowning woman.


    “Shh,” I murmured. “It’s done. You’re safe.”


    I felt her heart pounding through her ribs, gradually calming. She stared up at me, speechless for a moment, then buried her face in my shoulder, trembling. Gently, I lifted her into a sitting position.


    “We should keep moving,” I said, nodding back at the silent ruins. “I’m not waiting around to see if anything else crawls out of that place.”


    She noticed my wounds then, tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh no, Kai, you’re bleeding everywhere. I…I brought this on you.”


    “Look, these are scratches,” I lied, ignoring the deeper punctures. “I’ve had worse. Don’t cry.”


    She tried to obey, rubbing at her tears with the hem of her tunic. The horror was still raw in her expression, but she kept herself together. Finally, I ventured, “Why’d the Karasu stop there? Didn’t they know those ruins were infested with…whatever the hell those things were?”


    She swallowed hard. “They were hungry,” she said, voice shaking. “They’d captured another prisoner—a young man—and butchered him while he was still alive. I…I can’t talk about it.”


    “So they are cannibals.” I frowned. “Or devils.”


    She nodded bitterly. “They didn’t even see the dog-creatures until it was too late. Those monsters descended on them like a pack of crazed wolves and dragged me off into those tunnels. I—I don’t want to think about what they planned to do.”


    “And that cackling chorus using my name?” I asked grimly.


    She shuddered. “I cried out for you. They must have heard and decided to torment me, mocking you, mocking me. You heard them—somehow they knew you, even recognized your voice. These lands are full of evil. Who knows what they sense?”


    I exhaled, still rattled. “Kigen’s got devils in every shadow, it seems. But…why call for me instead of your father, Zan?”


    A faint blush touched her cheeks. She averted her eyes. “I—just did,” she said softly, not offering more.


    I let it drop. After a moment, she fingered my hand. “Why do the orcs call you Tetsuken? You’ve got the grip of a bear, but you move so gently.”


    I flexed my fist, stained with dried gore. “I’m not exactly gentle with my enemies,” I said quietly. “But I wouldn’t hurt you.”


    Her eyes lit with some unreadable emotion. “You’d never harm me. Why?”


    I stared at her, momentarily lost for words. Her question was so innocent and so complicated at once. My mind churned for an answer, but none came. Instead, I reached out, brushing a stray strand of her dark hair from her face. We were both silent under the silver moon, battered and bruised, but alive. For that moment, it was enough.