"MEN, FIRE YOUR ARROWS!"
The command echoed across the battlefield like a thunderclap.
Thousands of arrows soared into the crimson sky, their tips glinting like stars as they rained down from above. The samurai stood shoulder to shoulder in tight formation, their faces grim as they aimed to strike down the three towering red-skinned humanoids—the Oni.
But before the volley could reach its mark, one of the Oni stepped forward, raising a clawed hand.
"Black Lightning Magic: Thunder Dragon's Wrath!"
The sky tore open. A colossal dragon forged from pulsating black lightning roared to life, crashing through the heavens. It decimated the rain of arrows in midair before coiling around the trio like a living shield of destruction, crackling with malevolent energy.
One of the Oni, cloaked in cinders and charred smoke, turned to his comrades. "General La'Kong… shall I handle these worms?" Ash rolled off his shoulders as his body radiated a smoldering aura, hungry for combat.
La'Kong, the largest of the three, placed a steady hand on his warrior's shoulder. His deep voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"No. Let Ji'Mora handle it. He's waited long enough."
Ji'Mora, the quietest among them, simply nodded. Without a word, he stepped forward—his hulking form cutting through the tension like a blade. He marched toward the human army, undeterred by their numbers.
"MEN! FORMATION TWELVE!"
The samurai general barked the order.
In perfect synchronicity, hundreds of fire-wielding samurai stepped forward. Their hands ignited with blazing mana as they unleashed a combined spell:
"Inferno Convergence!"
A sea of fire burst forth, a hellish wave that dwarfed the nearby mountains. Its fury rushed toward Ji'Mora, threatening to engulf him completely. But the assault didn't stop there.
From the flanks, wind-element users summoned cyclonic gales that spiraled around the inferno—turning it into a flaming tornado. The sky darkened, and the very earth trembled beneath its roaring might.
The general grinned. Victory danced in his eyes.
"Direct hit! We've taken down the first Oni General!" he roared, raising his sword to the sky.
But then—
A voice rose from within the blaze. Deep. Calm. Terrifying.
"Burst into eternal flames... Eclipse Magic: Death Gambit."
The tornado of fire twisted violently. Black-gold flames exploded outward, consuming the inferno entirely. The magic warped, twisting into the shape of a massive serpent wreathed in eclipsed fire.
The serpent hissed once—and then devoured the battlefield.
The samurai screamed. Their formations shattered. In mere seconds, the entire frontline was reduced to charred bones and blackened earth.
From the center of the destruction, Ji'Mora emerged—unscathed. Flames licked his body like obedient pets.
The general's sword trembled in his hand.
"W-What… what kind of monster is this…?"
Ji'Mora raised his hand again. This time, his palm glowed with a dark sigil.
A blade of black and gold flame materialized in Ji'Mora's hand—crackling with raw, cursed power. With one clean, merciless swing, he beheaded the samurai general. The man's head dropped to the blood-soaked earth with a dull thud, his expression forever frozen in disbelief.
Ji'Mora turned toward La'Kong, the other towering oni general. Behind him, the black and gold serpent—born from his Eclipse magic—continued to rage across the battlefield, consuming any stragglers it found.
"General La'Kong," Ji'Mora said with a grin, "when will we be allowed to march on the nearby human village? I'm in need of a few more slaves."
La'Kong didn't look at him. His eyes remained fixed on the dying flames of the battlefield.
"In due time, Ji'Mora," he rumbled. "First, our puppets must finish breaking the barrier from within. Then, we strike."
Ji'Mora's grin widened. His burning eyes turned toward the distant ridge where smoke drifted above rooftops barely visible through the haze.
"Hmm... Soon, then."
Meanwhile, in the nearby village...
Two old friends sat together in quiet conversation, unaware of the storm approaching.
"Natsuki, can you do me a favor?" Ino's voice was soft—fragile, like it might break at any moment.
"Anything for you, Miss Ino," the painter replied with a gentle smile.
"Paint me a picture. One of me and my daughter. Before I go."
Natsuki paused for a moment, but his expression never faltered.
"Is that all? It would be my pleasure."
Ino—thirty years old, fighting the final stages of a terminal illness—sat with quiet dignity. The sunlight spilled through the open window, bathing her caramel-brown skin and pearl-white hair in gold. She looked almost angelic, despite the weight in her eyes.
Moments later, her five-year-old daughter Rumi came running into the room, all light and laughter.
"What is it, Mom?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.
Ino smiled gently. "Come sit in my lap, sweetie. Mr. Natsuki is going to paint a picture of us."
Rumi's eyes sparkled. "A painting?! Like the one of you and Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart. But this time, it's just us."
With a giggle, Rumi climbed into her mother's lap and nestled close.
Together, they were breathtaking—mirrored images in white dresses, sapphire-blue eyes shimmering in the light, and an unspoken bond between them that was stronger than death.
Natsuki sat before them, brush in hand. "How... breathtaking," he whispered.
Rumi swung her legs playfully. "Are you done yet, Mister?"
Ino chuckled. "Hold still, little one. Let him work."
"Okay!" Rumi replied, sitting perfectly straight, her hands folded like a princess.
Natsuki smiled, and began.
Minutes passed.
When the last stroke of ink dried, Natsuki turned the canvas around.
The portrait captured everything—their grace, their love, their fleeting moment of peace.
Rumi's eyes lit up. "It's beautiful! You're really good, Mr. Natsuki!"
Ino giggled softly.
"Thank you," he replied with a warm smile. "Now, do me a favor—hang it in your mother's room."
Rumi grabbed the painting and dashed off proudly.
As her footsteps faded, Ino's smile dropped.
"I'm going to miss her..." she murmured, voice calm—but filled with finality.
Natsuki didn't speak. He just listened as she tapped a folded letter on the table beside her.
"Are you sure you can get her to her father?" she asked. "There've been more oni lately…"
"You don't need to worry," he replied, packing up his supplies. "I've snuck through worse."
He slid a kunai into his satchel without a word.
Ino reached for the letter, her hand trembling. "Take her to Shin-Kage Village, north of the Thunder Plains. Look for a man named Tanaka. Give him this letter—it explains everything."
Natsuki tucked the letter into his inner pouch. "I swear. I'll get her there safely. But... what about when the repellent crystal fails?"
Ino smiled faintly and placed a warm hand on his head. "Don't worry about me, child. I'll be long gone by then."
He bent forward, kissing the back of her hand. "Rest well in heaven, Miss Ino."
Rumi returned, breathless. "It looks perfect, Mommy!"
Natsuki stood and adjusted his satchel. "I'll go gather supplies. Say what you need to say."
Ino nodded silently, watching him leave.
The door closed behind him with a soft thunk, and a stillness fell over the home.
Outside...
Natsuki made his way through the village. Panic had already begun to set in.
Families loaded wagons, guards formed formations, and whispers filled the air:
"The barrier's weakening."
"The oni are coming."
"Great," Natsuki muttered. "Every shop's already closed."
He needed Repellent Herb—a rare plant that masked human scent from tracking oni. Not a guarantee of safety, but it helped.
After searching alleyways and half-closed stalls, he found a lone vendor packing a cart.
"Vendor! You got any Repellent Herb left?"
The man eyed him warily. "Yeah, but coin's worthless now. Got anything better?"
Natsuki sighed. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a glowing blue vial.
"A minor healing draught. My last one."
The vendor grinned. "Now that's worth something."
He handed Natsuki a pouch filled with crushed herb—its bitter scent sharp and earthy.
"Pleasure doing business. But you'd better move fast. Once that crystal fails, we're done for."
"I won't be here when it happens," Natsuki said flatly.
At the stables, the pens were nearly empty.
He gave a sharp whistle.
A massive, armored armadillo lizard stepped from the shadows—its stone-plated back gleaming under torchlight.
"Ah, Sousuke," Natsuki smiled. "Glad you're still alive."
He mounted the beast with ease. "We've got a long road ahead."
---
Back at the house...
Sousuke rumbled to a stop as the door creaked open.
Rumi stepped out. The sparkle in her eyes was gone. She held a tiny pack—stuffed with clothes, essentials, and the precious painting.
Natsuki dismounted and knelt.
"I take it… she told you everything."
Rumi didn't speak. She only nodded, eyes filled with silent tears.
Natsuki wiped one away gently. "Will you be okay?"
Another nod.
He lifted her and placed her on Sousuke's back. "Hold tight."
With one final look at the home behind them, he climbed on and whispered:
"Let's go."
Sousuke thundered forward. The village faded behind them, swallowed by shadow and wind.
Rumi clung to Natsuki, burying her face in his cloak.
And Natsuki…
He stared ahead—expression calm, but heart heavy.
> "I'll get her there, Ino... I swear it."