Jin reached into his inventory and drew only one sword, the bright one, the blade that had always felt like daylight in his hand, the heaven half of the pair. He left the dark one where it was. He didn't need fire for this. He didn't need hell.
The face in the bark watched him do it.
Its gold eyes followed the blade as it came out into the soft light of the tree. They didn't widen. They didn't flinch. They only watched, tired and calm, the way someone watches a door open after waiting outside it for a very long time.
Behind him, Jin heard the others go quiet. Nobody asked what he was doing. Maybe they already knew.
He stood in front of the tree and held the sword in both hands, and he thought about the God Slayer.
