Blood trickled from the enemy's mouth as he slumped against the broken tree, his chest heaving. Kyota stood over him, arms still glowing faintly with the last traces of Zenshiki Enjin. Behind him, the wizard and Yuki watched in tense silence.
"The Black Root will devour you all," the archer had hissed before passing out.
Now the name lingered in the air like a curse.
Kyota looked down at his bloodied hand. The wound from catching the arrow still ached, and his body hummed with energy—not rage, not pride—something else. A warning.
He turned to the wizard. "You know that name."
The old man's face was pale. "I do."
Yuki approached slowly, her voice quieter than usual. "What is it?"
The wizard didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward the unconscious archer and knelt beside him. His fingers hovered over the man's chest. A light-blue rune formed in his palm and pulsed once. The archer's breathing stopped.
"He was already dying," the wizard said, standing again. "I simply sped it up."
Yuki said, "You could heal him, but you didn't. Why?"
Kyota didn't flinch. "Now talk."
The wizard's eyes darkened. "Black Root... It was once a secret faction of mages, assassins, and warlocks exiled from the Five Great Kingdoms. They were obsessed with one thing—immortality through nature's corruption. They believed in fusing magic with rot, decay, poison... using nature's death rather than its life."
"Necromancers?" Yuki asked.
"Worse," the wizard said. "They weren't interested in reviving the dead. They wanted to replace the living—turn forests into weapons, spread plagues that obeyed commands, create sentient roots that drink magic instead of water."
Kyota narrowed his eyes. "So why attack you?"
The wizard hesitated. "Because I was one of them."
The silence that followed was thick as fog.
Kyota stared. "You…?"
"Long ago," the wizard said, sighing. "Before you were born. Before the kingdoms united. I was young, hungry for forbidden knowledge. I thought the world needed change—needed to grow wild again. I thought the Black Root was the answer."
Yuki's face was unreadable. "So why did you leave?"
"I saw what they were growing," the wizard whispered. "Creatures birthed from magic and fungus. Parasites that fed on human thoughts. Trees that bled. When they began experimenting on children, I ran. Burned every bridge. They've hunted me ever since."
Kyota processed that quietly. "And now they've found you."
"No," the wizard said. "They found you. You caught their arrow. That cursed magic... it reacts to Zenshiki Enjin. Your body is now a beacon. They'll come again."
As if summoned by the very words, the ground trembled beneath them. A low hum rolled through the earth, subtle but unnatural.
Yuki turned toward the forest. "Something's coming."
From the shadowed trees, roots burst from the ground—black, thorned, and pulsing with dark green veins. They writhed like serpents, sensing mana. One lashed toward Kyota.
FWAP!
He jumped back, slicing it with a blade of air. It shrieked—actually shrieked—as if alive.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
Yuki threw a beam of blue mana, freezing a root in place. But more kept coming, sprouting like hydraheads.
"They've seeded the forest," the wizard growled. "They do this before full attacks. If we stay, we'll be swallowed."
Kyota's eyes flashed. "Then we burn them down."
The wizard nodded grimly. "There's an old outpost a mile east. Abandoned. We'll regroup there."
The three of them ran—Kyota leading, Yuki behind, and the wizard guarding their rear. Black tendrils chased them, bursting through bark and soil. Birds scattered. The forest groaned like it was alive.
As they moved, the cursed roots grew more aggressive, snatching at their feet and whipping toward their faces.
Kyota extended both hands. Fire and wind converged. A cyclone of flame roared to life behind them, clearing a path as they fled. Trees caught fire. The screaming roots turned to ash.
At last, they reached a crumbling stone structure hidden beneath layers of ivy and moss—a ruin from the War of the Saint Swords.
The wizard sealed the entrance with a glowing glyph. Silence returned, though the earth outside still moaned.
Inside, they lit torches. The walls were cracked, and ancient paintings faded. Dust coated the floor, and something in the air felt hollow.
Yuki sat beside a stone pillar, her arms wrapped around her knees. "So what now?"
Kyota looked at his hands. The cold flames were gone, but his fingertips tingled. "They're not after the wizard. They're after power. They sensed Zenshiki Enjin. Maybe they want to take it. Maybe they want to copy it."
The wizard exhaled slowly. "They can't. Not fully. But if they could harvest it… even in part…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Kyota walked toward the center of the ruin. His cursed marks flared slightly in the darkness, casting thin shadows on the wall. He placed a hand on the floor.
"Something's buried here."
Yuki looked up. "What do you mean?"
He closed his eyes. "I can hear it. The mana in the earth. It's talking."
The wizard stepped closer. "What is it saying?"
Kyota opened his eyes slowly. "A warning. Someone died here... someone powerful. And they sealed something underneath."
They dug with magic—slowly, carefully—until stone gave way to a sealed door beneath the ruin's floor. Ancient runes covered its surface.
The wizard paled. "This is a Soul Lock."
Kyota looked at him. "What does it keep out?"
The wizard didn't answer right away. "Not out. In."
He moved closer, reading the runes with trembling fingers. "This place… it's a tomb. The first Black Root summoner was buried here."
Kyota stiffened. "Why would he be sealed?"
"Because he became one of them. Not a human. Not a mage. A vessel. His body became a living conduit of Black Root magic. If he's still intact down there…"
Suddenly, a crack echoed through the ruin.
The seal on the door flickered.
Yuki backed away. "Did we break it?"
"No," Kyota said. "Something else did."
From the back wall of the ruin, a figure stepped into the torchlight.
He looked young—no older than Kyota. Pale skin. Silver hair. A lean build. But it wasn't his face that froze them all—it was the familiarity.
He looked just like Kyota.
"Finally," the figure said, smiling. "Been waiting to meet you."
Kyota's heart stopped.
Yuki gasped. "You…"
The wizard whispered, "A clone?"
The stranger tilted his head. "Not quite. Call me… a reflection. Born from the same seed, but grown in shadow."
The cursed roots began curling beneath the stone again.
Kyota raised his hand. His blue flames roared back to life. "Then let's see which one of us burns brighter."