The lord's army had already pushed deep into the bamboo forest when, all at once, their horses reared up and screamed in terror. Hooves struck the air violently as the riders struggled to keep their balance—something lay directly in their path.
"What is going on?!"
The commanding general roared, his authoritative voice cracking with rage. The soldiers at the front had gone pale, faces drained of all color. With trembling hands, they pointed ahead.
There was a pit.
Inside it lay the remains of a trap system—four officers and three horses impaled clean through by dozens of sharpened wooden stakes. Blood had long since dried. Flesh and armor torn apart. The scene was grotesque beyond words.
The general leapt from his horse at once and rushed forward to inspect it. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead as he muttered under his breath,
"Why… why would something like this exist deep inside this forest?"
"What's the situation?"
The calm, low voice of a nobleman sounded from behind.
He sat astride a white horse, clad head to toe in full armor. White and crimson fabric flowed from his armor, embroidered with the emblem of the Sun. He removed the mask beneath his samurai helmet, revealing his face.
At the sound of his lord's voice, the general panicked, hurried over, and dropped to his knees without a single wasted motion.
"My lord," he said urgently, head bowed low. "We discovered that several of our men fell into a trap ahead. Judging by the condition of the bodies, it appears to have happened yesterday."
"Oh?"
The lord nodded slowly, thoughtfully.
"And this route… where does it lead?"
The general lowered his head even further.
"Five hundred miles ahead lies the stronghold of the Okawa clan."
The lord's eyes flickered with surprise.
"I see… no wonder."
A slow smile crept across his lips—twisted, calculating, utterly vile.
"…In that case, placing all the blame on the Okawa doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. If so, there's no need to uphold the peace treaty between our houses any longer."
His gaze drifted downward. There—embedded in the earth—were arrows of a distinct make. Arrows crafted exclusively by the Kamakiri clan.
Gripping his reins tightly, the lord spoke with firm authority.
"Continue the advance. They can't have gone far."
The general and the soldiers shouted in unison. They mounted their horses once more and charged up the bamboo-covered hill at full gallop.
Yet despite his confidence, a sliver of fear crept into the lord's heart.
Shana.
Just how powerful could a fox spirit truly be?
His hand tightened around the hilt of an unusual sword. The pommel—carved into the shape of a serpent's head—seemed to glow faintly with an eerie green light.
Shana carried Duyen's battered body to a nearby abandoned shrine, hidden beneath towering old bamboo groves.
The shrine appeared to have collapsed during the aftermath of war. Its interior was so thoroughly ruined that it was impossible to tell which god had once been worshipped here—if any ever had at all.
Perhaps there never was a god to begin with.
For wherever Shana walked upon the mortal world, even the most sacred places fell silent. Only the resentful buzzing of a few lingering spirits remained.
And so she entered the shrine unhindered. Still, as she stepped inside, she whispered softly,
"Please… allow us to take shelter here."
No answer came.
Shana gently laid Duyen's body—covered in countless wounds—onto a straw bed near the shrine's entrance. Her eyes filled with sorrow as her hand brushed lightly over the horrific injuries.
Duyen winced faintly in pain. Startled, Shana pulled her hand back at once. She broke down, sobbing helplessly, not knowing what else she could do.
Suddenly, her ears twitched. The thunderous sound of hooves struck the earth in rapid succession. The ground itself trembled.
They were close.
Shana clenched her fist. Her eyes sharpened, a cold glint flashing within them as flecks of deep blue light surfaced.
The lord's soldiers had arrived. They dismounted and began climbing the long stone steps leading up to the shrine.
Shana slowly rose to her feet. She draped a thin veil of silk over Duyen's body—torn from her own red wedding dress.
Then she turned around, standing tall, facing what was about to unfold.
A silver-white samurai helmet appeared at the top of the steps. Behind it emerged a large, imposing man clad in sealed armor from head to toe, wearing a dark crimson iron mask.
The moment he appeared, Shana's gaze hardened instantly. Her fangs slipped out unconsciously, hostility flashing through her expression. Her reddish-brown hair billowed in the air, surrounded by an aura so intense that even the soldiers hesitated. No one dared take another step forward.
The man looked at Shana. Then at Duyen lying behind her. He let out a soft chuckle and extended a hand.
"What's this?" he said. "My bride? Dressed like that… are you waiting to marry me once again?"
Shana did not respond. She only stared at him—cold, distant, utterly emotionless.
That complete contrast unsettled him. The smile beneath his mask slowly vanished. This wasn't how things were supposed to go.
"Shana," he continued, "do you remember the moment we first met?"
No reaction. He went on.
"You were surrounded by wild beasts. I was the one who appeared and saved you. Ah… the sight of you then—so pitiful, so fragile—it truly stirred my heart."
He lowered his head slightly, feigning sentiment.
"And then I brought you to my estate. Dressed you in luxury. Raised you to the highest position. Treated you better than any man in this world ever could…"
At that, Shana suddenly let out a soft laugh. The lord frowned beneath his mask. Why was she laughing?
Was this… a good sign?
"…You said it yourself," he continued, "that I was a good man. That you truly loved me. But now I must ask…"
"Where did that love go?"
Still, Shana gave no answer. She stood there, gazing at him with distant eyes, the corner of her lips lifting ever so slightly.
This confidence—this presence—was something the lord had never seen before. Her aura, her bearing, was like an impenetrable wall. Even his sweetest words could not pierce it.
It shook the very foundation of his sense of dominance.
Annoying.
She was beginning to truly irritate him. But that alone would not make him give up. To abandon Shana now would be nothing less than wasting a perfect opportunity—to manipulate her heart completely.
Yet Shana's face remained utterly calm. At last, she spoke—her voice soft, sweet as honey.
"…My great lord…"
That single call rippled through the ranks like a shockwave, rattling the soldiers' minds until dizziness seized them. Yet the lord himself failed to notice.
Shana continued, each word echoing deep inside the men's skulls.
"To wear full armor and weapons like this… it hardly seems gentlemanly toward one's betrothed. If you truly claim to love me, then why won't you step closer?"
The lord frowned slightly. The longer he stared at Shana, the stronger the invisible force tugging him toward her became—until the sudden sound of a soldier collapsing unconscious on the stone steps snapped him back to reality.
For only a moment.
Shana's honeyed voice rose again.
"…Come closer to me… my husband… Come, and show me your love…"
He could barely resist. Her voice, her intoxicating scent, awakened every sense within every man present. His armor suddenly felt suffocating, unbearably tight. He wanted to tear it off and rush to her side.
The lord swallowed hard, hastily removing his helmet and mask. Heavy footsteps carried him toward Shana.
Behind him, the soldiers had fully succumbed—as if drugged, crawling on the ground, palms pressed to the dirt. Their hands clawed at the air, eyes glassy and unfocused, staring at visions only they could see.
The scene was grotesque beyond words. Shana smiled—slow, seductive—as the lord drew nearer. One of her hands sprouted long, razor-sharp claws, poised and waiting.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the haze.
"My lord—be careful!"
The general struggled desperately against the trance. But it was already too late. Shana's brutal claws lunged toward him—
—and then, abruptly, the sword at the lord's waist flared with a green glow.
As if possessed, it dragged his arm forward and slashed.
Shana recoiled, leaping back in shock. She glared at the sword, snarling.
"…Impossible. What is that thing?"
The lord staggered, barely regaining his balance by leaning on the blade. He stared at the strange sword in his hand—then at Shana, crouched and ready to strike, claws glinting.
She had nearly killed him.
He burst into a vile laugh, rising to his feet with newfound confidence.
"I almost thought you'd changed your mind," he sneered. "Turns out, I was wrong."
Seeing Shana's gaze fixed on the sword only fueled his arrogance. He raised it high.
"…Then don't blame me for why the sea is salty today!" He charged.
They collided in a clash so evenly matched it defied reason. With the strange sword in hand, the lord perfectly parried every one of Shana's attacks.
Yet her raw power was overwhelming. Each strike she unleashed sent trees crashing down and made the earth quake. His mortal body could barely endure it—especially when he no longer fully controlled his own movements.
Shana was too strong.
His sword hand trembled violently. He wanted to let go—but couldn't. The blade forced him onward, attacking Shana relentlessly on his behalf.
The outcome was clear. It was only a matter of time before the lord collapsed from exhaustion and died.
Seeing this, the loyal general of House Kamakiri forced himself upright. He crept behind Shana.
With a sudden yank, he dragged Duyen from her unconscious state. Duyen jolted awake—only to freeze in terror as she felt a blade pressed against her throat.
"H—?!"
"Shut up, you whore!" He crushed her neck in his grip.
Shana turned in horror. Without hesitation, she reached behind her, seized the general's head, and tore it clean from his body.
Blood exploded everywhere. Duyen screamed.
Shana moved to shield her—but the lord's sword came flying in.
"Don't even think about it!"
She couldn't dodge in time.
Slash.
Blood splattered across Shana's face—
—but it wasn't hers.
It was Duyen's.
The blade sliced clean through Duyen's body in a perfect diagonal, splitting her from shoulder down.
So fast she never even realized what had happened. Only the lord's victorious grin remained.
The upper half of Duyen's body collapsed into Shana's arms as Shana screamed with a voice that split the heavens.
"KAYA!"
The forest itself shuddered under Shana's anguish. She desperately shook Duyen. Duyen's eyes were dull, unfocused. Weak sounds slipped from her lips.
"Shga… na…"
"No… No… No, Kaya! No! Please—don't! Please!"
Shana ignored everything around her, clutching Duyen's severed body.
So much blood.
Too much.
Help…
Too much…
Duyen's fading eyes drifted around. She saw half of herself lying elsewhere. But she felt nothing.
No pain.
Nothing at all.
She looked up at Shana. Shana's tears soaked her face.
Don't cry, Shana… Please don't cry…
The lord watched the scene and laughed madly, Duyen's blood smeared across his face. He licked it like a trophy. He muttered mockingly, savoring Shana's despair.
"I'm telling you, Shana… no one will ever truly love you. Ever! Except me. And damn it—you made me do this…"
He raised his sword once more. Its reflection shimmered in Duyen's empty eyes.
But this time—There would be no miracle. The lord froze.
His eyes bulged as he looked down. Shana's arm had pierced straight through his chest.
"Hurts…"
Without hesitation, she tore out his heart. He collapsed, dead before his eyes could even close.
Shana stared coldly at the still-beating heart in her hand.
"…You said you saved me that day? No. I saved you—from the wolves. And just so you could protect that pathetic ego of yours, I let you believe that lie."
She crushed the heart. Blood sprayed everywhere. But inside it—A blue gem gleamed brightly.
Shana's expression softened. She turned to Duyen's now-lifeless body and placed the gem into her mouth.
Light surged. It flooded Duyen's chest, making her body convulse violently. Shana panicked, holding her tight.
Then—Something impossible happened.
Duyen's wound sealed itself. Her breathing steadied.
Shana broke down sobbing in relief. But—
Duyen's eyes remained vacant.
Her heart beat—but her soul was gone.
Shana's lips trembled. She shook her head.
"No… No… No…"
She clutched Duyen and screamed.
"No—WHY?!"
"WHY?!"
"WHY?!"
Her scream echoed through the mountains. The blood-red dusk illuminated the desolate bamboo-covered hill.
Even the beasts wept.
The birds fell silent.
The wind ceased to blow.
Only pain and hatred remained in Shana's eyes.
The monk Kaneko, driven by that wail of despair, staggered toward the shrine. What he found made him stop cold. Corpses everywhere.
At the center stood a beautiful woman in a red wedding gown—cradling the bisected body of another woman—singing a lullaby.
Kaneko couldn't hide his shame and grief. He stepped back.
On the ground, he noticed a shard from the monk's mirror fallen from the armor of Lord Kamakiri Ousa—the very source of this tragedy.
With it, he could have exposed the true nature of the nine-tailed fox demon right then and there.
But instead—He turned away in silence.
Luna's voice softened as she continued.
"But what happened to the Kamakiri clan afterward?"