The air was heavy that night. Lanterns burned low in the Ashigawa compound, their light trembling as though the flames themselves feared what news had come. I sat alone for a long while, weighing the burden that now pressed on my chest like a mountain.
A giant. Not the kind of dull-witted behemoth that swung clubs of stone or trees as if they were toys. No, this was something else — a variant that thought, that planned, that cut down the Third Unit as though they were mere stalks of grass.
The memory of Kijirama's laughter echoed in my mind. My oldest comrade, my brother in spirit, the one who fought beside me when the clan was still carving its name into this land. Now he was gone.
I straightened, masking grief with command. There was no time for weakness.
"Come forth," I ordered.
Eight shadows slid into the chamber, kneeling in perfect unison. My most trusted jōnin, each hardened by years of bloodshed.
"Milord, what are your orders?" they spoke, heads bowed.
I rose to my feet, robes whispering against the tatami floor. "We face a threat unlike any before. A giant — but not as you know them. This one possesses intellect. It is cunning. It annihilated the Third Unit."
At once their faces darkened with disbelief. One, the youngest, dared to speak.
"Milord, forgive me… but why devise plans to slay a giant? They are brutes, little more than muscle and bone. Slow, predictable, easily tired. Kijirama's squad specialized in colossi. Such monsters should have been no challenge."
I clenched my jaw, anger flashing. "True. That is what I believed as well. Yet Kijirama is dead. His men are dead. If not for a single survivor who crawled back to us with his final breath, we would know nothing of what befell them. No messenger bird. No flare. Nothing but silence and corpses."
Their shock rippled like a wave. Another jōnin shook his head. "Impossible. Kijirama's group may not have been our strongest, but their expertise in striking down giants was peerless even among the genin ranks."
"Do you think I speak lies?" I snapped. My voice cracked through the chamber like a whip. "Their bodies lie in the morgue as we speak. Go look with your own eyes, if you doubt me."
Silence. A silence so sharp it rang in my ears.
I let it linger, then continued in a colder tone. "This creature is not normal. Even now, we know little of its form, its weapons, or its lair. A giant's club alone cannot explain how an entire seasoned squad was annihilated. And yet, here we are."
The youngest jōnin stammered again, weaker this time. "But… milord… if it carried only a tree or stone club, their speed should have prevailed. Surely they could have tired it out."
I fixed him with a stare until he fell quiet. "…And yet they did not return."
Their eyes lowered. Doubt faded into fear.
I exhaled slowly. "Enough. We must prepare as though facing a new breed altogether. I want you to weave an array large enough to bind it. We shall use the Seal of a Thousand Demons."
Gasps tore from the circle. One of them, clad in black, spoke sharply. "Milord! That seal is forbidden. The Ashigawa Clan swore never to wield it unless facing annihilation. To unleash it against a mere giant—"
"This is not a mere giant!" I roared. The walls themselves seemed to tremble with the force of my fury. "This is a variant. One that thinks, that plans, that kills in silence. If we underestimate it, the Ashigawa name will drown in its blood. Do you wish that?"
Their protests faltered. The weight of my words left them mute.
Before further debate could erupt, hurried footsteps broke into the chamber. A genin, panting, sweat dripping from his brow, knelt before me.
"Milord! I have brought the remains of Lord Kijirama and his group!"
The words struck harder than a blade. My breath caught. "Where? Lead me."
He bowed low. "At once, milord!"
We followed swiftly, my jōnin trailing me like shadows. The morgue stank of death and incense, a bitter marriage that curdled the stomach. Torches burned low, casting long cruel shadows over pale sheets.
And there, upon the central slab, lay my friend.
I froze. My fists clenched so tight my nails bit flesh. Kijirama's body was whole, unmarred save for bruises and scars. Around him lay his men, twisted beyond recognition. One was cleaved in half. Another crushed, ribs shattered outward. Limbs were bent at grotesque angles.
But Kijirama… he was untouched. Preserved. A cruel mockery.
"Where did you find them?" I demanded.
The genin swallowed hard. "In the Dark Forest, milord, a hundred miles from here."
My teeth ground together. "And why did we not hear the clash? Kijirama's squad favored thunderous jutsu — explosions, lightning, smoke. Their battles are loud enough to echo for leagues."
The boy hesitated. "…Milord, Lord Kijirama… he activated the Shadow Domain."
The Shadow Domain. His personal technique, crafted to smother all sound within a radius, rendering assassinations undetectable. My gut twisted.
"You fool," I muttered under my breath. "Why would you do that? Why silence the only cry that could have warned us?"
Rage and grief warred within me. My vision blurred.
I stepped forward, peeling back the sheet to study his face. Calm. Eyes closed. Almost as though he slept. But I knew better. The doctors confirmed it soon after.
"Internal bleeding," one murmured to me softly. "The cause of death was within. No outward wound delivered the final blow."
I nodded stiffly. But in my mind the question gnawed like a worm: Why spare his body? Giants devour their prey. They tear, they dissect, they leave only ruin. Never once in all our hunts has one left a corpse intact.
Why was Kijirama spared?
No answer came. Only silence, and the sound of my own teeth grinding.
I bent low, placing my hand on his cold chest. My voice broke as I whispered, "My brother, you may be gone, but I will not fail you. I, Hiroko Akijin, of the Ashigawa Clan, vow this: I will bring you the head of the giant that took your life, and lay it before your grave."
A single tear struck the floor. I let no more fall. Straightening, I turned to my jōnin. "Enough mourning. Back to the council chamber. We make ready."
Hours later, the war room glowed with lamplight. Scrolls spread across the table, maps inked with red circles and sharp lines. Strategists leaned close, murmuring, while my eight jōnin stood like pillars at my back.
I pointed at the forest on the parchment. "We will lure it here — into the heart of the Dark Forest. There, the Seal of a Thousand Demons will be activated. Once bound, it cannot move. We will buy time to unleash our ultimate technique."
A strategist raised a shaking hand. "Milord… the Seal demands sacrifice. Whose blood will it take?"
"Mine, if it must," I answered coldly. "The Ashigawa are not cowards. Our clan's honor outweighs life itself."
Murmurs rippled through the room. But slowly, they steadied. Resolve filled their eyes.
"Milord, we will follow you," one declared.
"With honor," another echoed.
Their voices rose, firm and loyal.
For the first time since Kijirama's death, a faint smile touched my lips. "Good. Then prepare yourselves. Tomorrow, we hunt a giant."
"Hura!" they roared, fists striking chests in unison.
The chamber shook with their warcry.
And yet, as their voices echoed into the night, none of them knew. None realized that in the darkness beyond our walls, something stirred.
A giant. Listening.
Amusement rumbled low in its chest, a soundless chuckle that the forest alone bore witness to.
The hunters had declared war.
But the prey had already heard their plans.