By the time Toki reached the clearing, the moon had already climbed high into the sky, suspended like a chill sentinel over the forest. Silver light spilled through the skeletal branches, casting long, shivering shadows that blended with the warped shapes of trees twisted by corruption. The air was thick, damp, and cold, each breath tasting of rot and ancient sorrow.
Toki leaned heavily against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Pain pulsed in his limbs—deep, relentless. Though the corruption did no harm to him directly, the bites and stabs he'd endured earlier still throbbed with fatigue. His shirt was torn raggedly, stained dark with coagulated blood, and dried crimson crusted on his face where a fang had grazed him. His legs trembled; every inch forward had been a struggle. Still, he pressed himself, determined. If the barrier failed, the entire manor would be overwhelmed.
He closed his eyes. The wound on his thigh still whispered agony, and he could taste iron on his tongue. He'd bound it hastily, but the adrenaline had only masked the pain, not healed it. The forest around him groaned with life—mostly broken life. From the shadows, he could feel the presence of creatures that stumbled in, their forms warped and distorted by mana-tainted rot. He had killed many. The sound of their bodies hitting the ground in death had become a bleak symphony—but necessary. He shivered slightly in the moonlight.
He opened his eyes again, breathing in deep. His vision scanned upward. At the center of the clearing stood a tree unlike any other: tall and ancient, its trunk thick and gnarled. Tied to its trunk, embedded in a shallow trough of moss, was a pale-blue crystal. This one did not glow. Its surface was dull, life sucked from it, and corruption splintered the very branches around it.
He swallowed hard.
This is it… he thought. This is the corrupted cristal. It's drained. It's dead—or dying.
He knelt on shaking knees and reached out. The bark of the tree was deeply scarred, scratches gouged like claws, some still dripping with dark mana-black goo. The forest juice felt clammy and revolting beneath his fingers.
"This… this creature," he murmured to himself, voice low, "whatever killed this tree… it drew everything in. Manacor, corruption, life... it all flows together."
He touched the crystal's cracked surface. It was cold to the touch—dead. A far cry from the radiant blue of previous manacors he'd restored.
His hand shook. He closed his eyes and felt the unstable waves of his own mana swirl around him—wild, untamed, but still sharp enough to slice through corruption. It had reacted before to the rotting wilderness, scorching away darkness. He had no training for such precise healing, but instinct guided him.
He pressed his other hand to the wounded crystal. Dried blood still coated his palm from earlier—gifts of previous battles. He duplicated the gesture, letting the red mingle with the crystal's surface. He closed his eyes and visualized the light returning—watched the corruption burn away.
At first nothing happened. A flicker? A faint tremor? Then—
Light. A pulse. A soft glow, like the memory of dawn breaking. Toki held his breath, felt the warmth unfold through his fingers. Color returned to the crystal, timid at first—fragile, but sure. The crystal caught and refracted the moonlight, growing brighter, brighter—
—and then, with a soft exhalation, the glow steadied. A brilliant, steady blue radiated outward, washing over the clearing in gentle waves.
He let out a shaking sigh and pulled his hand away. The crystal, steady as a heartbeat, no longer defiled. Around him, the forest seemed to sigh in relief—some of the warp in the air receding, though many creatures lurked still. The barrier was mending, but the curse lingered, festering in the deeper shadows. This was only the beginning.
Toki stood, though his legs shook under him. He steadied himself against the tree, looking around the clearing. Eyes glinted in the underbrush—wolves, foxes, snakes. Some strolled minutely backward, uncertain. They watched the restored crystal, but didn't flee. The broken barrier still allowed wicked creatures in—just slowed them down. Somehow, only he could contain the rot now.
He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly.
"Now… finish this," he whispered to himself. "Seal this place. Repair the damage. Then return before they unravel."
His gaze was drawn to the gaping mouth of a cave at the edge of the clearing. The jagged rocks swallowed the light from the crystal, darkness gaping like some malignant wound.
On the floor around it were giant footprints—the kind left by creatures the size of men, tracks filled with thick, black ichor. Those tracks led into the cave, deeper into the heart of corruption.
Toki approached, mind racing.
"A bear," he spoke aloud in a whisper, voice hoarse. "A giant bear… . Its strength came from absorbing the manacor. If that crystal here… if it was feeding one creature… it must've been feeding the beast in that cave."
He squatted and traced one footprint with his finger. He marveled at the black ichor—still warm. The creature had recently passed.
His hand trembled. I have to defend them. They must not know what's coming.
He took another breath, tasting the metallic tang of fear in the air. He closed his eyes, centered himself, reached for his mana.
But with his other hand he pressed it onto the gaping, corrupted cave entrance.
It was living. He felt it pulse beneath his palm, the sick heartbeat of rotting life. He recoiled slightly, but steadied again.
Soft rustling came from within.
He turned his head. A distant growl—deeper than any bear he'd met.
A predator's roar, twisted by the manacor.
"Shit." Toki backed away quickly. "It's already left."
Then—
A thunderous crash. Somewhere behind him. Trees snapped.
Another crash. Louder.
Then—roaring.
Deep. Bestial. Unnatural.
Toki turned, heart hammering.
From the forest to the west—toward the manor—trees began to fall, one after another. Massive trunks crushed like twigs.
He took off running, blood pounding in his ears.
Near the outer barrier of the manor, four figures crouched in tense silence.
Utsuki had one hand extended, her palm glowing faintly with a warm orange hue. A protective ward shimmered around them, flickering weakly. She was pale, sweat clinging to her brow.
"It's holding," she whispered.
"Barely," Yuki muttered. Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes scanned the tree line.
Beside her, SuzumeA—gripped a spear, her knuckles white.
Then—the ground trembled.
Utsuki gasped.
"Something's coming," she said.
Crack. A tree to the north collapsed.
Crack. Another.
"Too fast," Yuki growled. "It's charging."
Then they saw it.
A bear.
No—not a bear. Not anymore.
It was enormous, at least three times the size of any natural beast. Its fur was patchy, crusted with black ichor that dripped like sludge from its massive shoulders. Its eyes glowed faintly purple, and jagged bone jutted from its limbs like armor. Every step it took shook the earth.
It let out a roar that split the night.
Utsuki's ward shattered like glass.
"RUN!" Suzume shouted.
They scattered as the monster charged, tearing through the treeline. Trees exploded into splinters under its weight. One of its clawed paws slammed into the dirt where Utsuki had stood a moment before.
She rolled, fire erupting around her hands.
"Stay back! Stay back!" she yelled, launching a firebolt toward the bear's face. It hit—flesh sizzled. The beast roared and stumbled, but it didn't stop.
Yuki dashed toward it with her blade, slicing deep into one leg. Black blood sprayed. The monster barely flinched.
It swiped at her. She ducked. Rolled.
"We can't kill this thing!" she shouted.
Tora stood frozen in shock, she had never seen a beast like this before.
Suzume hurled her spear. It struck the bear's shoulder, piercing shallowly. The beast swatted her aside like a doll. She slammed into a tree with a sickening crack.
"Suzume!" Utsuki screamed.
The beast turned to her.
And stopped.
It sniffed the air.
Something—someone—approached.
From the forest, a figure staggered into view. Bloodied. Breathing hard.
"Toki!" Yuki screamed, her voice shrill, brittle with panic.
But Toki didn't move. His body was frozen, his eyes locked on the bear—no, the thing that used to be a bear. Its fur shimmered faintly with an unnatural hue, patches of blackened crystal veining through its massive limbs like a disease. Its breath came in violent huffs, each exhale crackling with traces of unstable mana.
The stench of raw, corrupted aether blanketed the clearing, thick enough to choke. The scent of Toki's own mana had sent the beast into a frenzy.
It reared up on its hind legs, shadow swallowing sky.
Utsuki didn't flinch. She stood her ground. Her knees were trembling, but she stood. Her mana reserves were dry. Her skin steamed from overuse. Arașhi had been dismissed by force. She had nothing but her body left—and she would use it.
Blades of wind howled past her, Yuki desperately trying to buy time.
Useless.
The bear came crashing down.
Utsuki closed her eyes.
And then—a sound like thunder and bone.
She opened her eyes.
Toki stood in front of her. Arms outstretched. Bleeding. Cracked.
The bear's forelimbs had landed square on him, pulverizing his shoulders, cratering the earth beneath his boots. Blood poured from his mouth in heavy spurts, thick and black-red. Bone jutted through flesh. One of his ribs had punctured his lung—she could hear the wet rasp of every breath.
But his eyes…
His eyes burned.
"You should've stayed at the manor!" he roared, voice warbling, choking on blood. "That thing—it absorbed a manacor! It's not a beast anymore! It's a star collector now! Mindless! Relentless! Do you want to die here?!"
He threw himself forward, shoulder-first, slamming into the bear's chest.
The bear grunted, staggered two steps.
Toki, panting, yanked the blade from his back and hurled it toward Utsuki.
"Take it! Get out of here! Normal attacks don't work on it—it's regenerating!"
Before Utsuki could react, a wall of fire surged up, licking the sky, dividing the battlefield.
Leonard appeared beside them, face grim.
"This is Toki's fight now."
The inferno roared, trees cracking like bones.
The bear lunged again.
Toki didn't dodge. He couldn't.
Fangs like sabers sank into his shoulder.
Crunch.
The sound was nauseating. A meaty, visceral pop of joints torn from sockets. His arm flailed uselessly at his side, muscle strings hanging loose like snapped harp cords.
Utsuki tried to bolt through the flames, but Toki raised his remaining hand.
Trembling.
Yet firm.
"Stay. Back."
"I'm not leaving you alone with that thing!" she screamed, tears boiling off her cheeks from the heat.
His voice was a whisper now.
"I'm not afraid of what it can do... I'm afraid of what I might do... if I lose control."
The bear pulled back for another strike.
And something snapped.
Not bone.
Toki.
His body convulsed.
Eyes dilated, pitch black with only a sliver of gold.
His lips peeled back into a snarl. Steam erupted from his mouth as his body fought to repair itself through sheer will and pain. He bit the bear. Sunk his teeth into its flesh like a rabid animal.
It shrieked. A sound no bear should make. Something unholy.
Blood sprayed. Hot. Reeking. Ichor.
Toki's hands, cracked and trembling, locked around its throat.
He squeezed.
His nails dug in, flesh giving way, muscle parting like clay. Black ooze coated his chest. His eyes were nothing but storm.
"You want to collect stars?" he growled, voice distorted. "Then burn like one."
The bear clawed him. Raked through his back. Strips of skin tore off. His spine was visible. Yet he didn't fall.
He moved.
Left.
Right.
Left again.
Each punch resounded like thunder. Each strike shattered something—in the bear or himself, it was hard to tell.
His body was meat and shattered bone held together by rage, love, and grief. His muscles tore with each movement, but still he struck. Still he screamed.
He was no longer Toki.
He was something else.
"You won't touch them," he hissed. "You won't take this from me."
The girls could only watch, transfixed in horror. Leonard held them back, jaw clenched, sweat beading on his brow.
Toki was losing his humanity by the second.
A sickening snap. The bear tried to regenerate, crystal blooming where its throat had once been torn.
Too slow.
Toki plunged his fingers into the forming gem.
Blood hissed. His flesh seared.
He ripped it out.
Screamed.
"You think pain makes you real?!" he howled. "I LIVE INSIDE PAIN!"
The bear roared back, black flame erupting from its maw.
Toki leapt. His legs buckled on landing, bones unable to hold him, but he moved anyway. Crawled. Dragged himself forward.
His mind was racing.
The blood. It burns. It's oil. It wants to burn.
He dove, shoulder-first, into the creature's legs.
A final act of madman's clarity.
It toppled.
Fell backward.
Onto the burning tree.
The blaze kissed ichor.
Ignition.
The bear screamed.
Its cries were inhuman. No longer of this world. A dying god in agony.
Flames consumed it. The starlight in its flesh sputtered, shrank, died.
Toki, barely breathing, crawled to its smoking corpse.
Every limb shook. His face was coated in soot and blood. His hands were blistered beyond recognition.
Toki crawled to its remains, hand trembling, and pressed his palm to the still-smoking corpse.
He absorbed the manacor.
A wave of power surged through him.
His manacor… was stronger.
His wounds—did not heal.
Instead, the new mana twisted inside him like a storm of knives. The bear's manacor was too wild, too corrupted. It wasn't merging with his own—it was fighting it. Burning from the inside out, he screamed through clenched teeth, muscles spasming.
"Toki!" Utsuki cried, rushing to him.
Leonard tried to stop her, but the fire between them had already faded, and she was faster.
She reached him just as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest.
"Toki! Stay with me!"
He looked up, dazed—eyes flickering between gold and black. His voice was hoarse, distant.
"Utsuki… don't touch me. My mana's… unstable. If it lashes out—"
"I don't care." She knelt beside him, her hands glowing with faint green light. "I won't let you burn alone."
He stared at her, trembling. "It hurts… It hurts so much…"
"I know," she whispered. "But you're not alone."
Utsuki pressed her forehead to his. Her own mana surged, wrapping around his like warm silk—quelling the storm for just a moment. The bear's mana screamed in protest, but it was quieted, even briefly, by Utsuki's flame.
Then—Toki exhaled.
The black mist around him began to recede. Slowly. Unwillingly. But it did.
His body slumped forward, catching himself barely with one hand.
"Did it work?" Yuki asked cautiously, still watching the treeline.
Leonard shook his head. "I… don't know. But whatever it was, it's fading."
Toki staggered upright, swaying on trembling legs, eyes barely adjusting to the chaos around him. Smoke curled through the trees, thick with the scent of burnt fur and blood. The earth was still smoldering where the bear had fallen. His heart thudded erratically—each beat a thunderclap inside his skull.
But something cracked overhead.
Toki's eyes shot up. One of the trees—already split and blackened by the flames—groaned, its trunk splintering.
"Utsuki—!"
The massive tree was falling, its burning canopy angled directly toward her.
He didn't think.
Didn't need to.
Toki lunged forward, seizing her around the waist. His body screamed in protest, muscles tearing, wounds reopening—but he moved faster than he ever had before. Faster than he should've been able to.
With a roar of effort, he pulled her into his arms and twisted his torso just as the tree came crashing down.
His hand rose on instinct.
A scream of wind split the air.
The sound was deafening—a rising crescendo of pressure, as if the very forest held its breath and broke.
A blade of wind—green, humming, impossibly dense—shot from his outstretched palm.
Not like Yuki's clean arcs or Leonard's precise bursts.
This one was raw. Colossal. It didn't cut through the tree.
It erased it.
The trunk didn't split or shatter. It atomized.
The moment the wind blade touched the wood, it ceased to exist—exploding into dust and vapor with a soundless bloom of green particles that swirled upward, shimmering like stars.
Everything stopped.
The wind settled.
Silence.
Utsuki clung to his chest, eyes wide. Toki's hand was still raised, shaking violently. His arm was surrounded by tendrils of emerald mana, glowing brighter than any fire.
He stared at it, slack-jawed.
"That wasn't—what did I—?"
Leonard took a step forward, sword lowered, lips parted in awe. "That… was not basic wind magic."
Toki dropped to one knee, gasping. He looked at his palm as if it belonged to someone else. "I didn't… mean to… I just wanted to protect her."
Yuki blinked. "That tree was ten meters thick… You didn't cut it. You annihilated it."
Utsuki touched his arm, her voice trembling. "Your mana… it's not wild anymore. It's flowing. Controlled."
Toki looked at her, dazed. "Then… it worked?"
He slowly stood again, raising his palm toward the lingering flames dotting the battlefield. His fingers curled.
The fires—every ember, every spark—drew inward, sucked toward his hand as though the world obeyed a new command.
Mana surged around him in visible waves. He wasn't leaking it anymore. He was commanding it.
The last flame died.
Only smoke remained.
Silence followed.
Leonard exhaled. "You advanced."
Utsuki's eyes shone with tears. "Toki… you're at the second level of mana cultivation."
He couldn't believe it. His whole life had been spent failing to even control a single spark without backlash. Now this?
"No more teaching," Utsuki whispered, half-laughing. "You've surpassed me. I could never—never—form a wind blade like that."
Toki smiled weakly. "I didn't… want to hurt anyone. I just didn't want her to die."
And then the exhaustion hit.
All at once.
His vision darkened. He swayed, blood dripping from reopened wounds, lips pale.
He fell—
—but didn't hit the ground.
Someone caught him.
Warm arms. A voice—Utsuki's, maybe? Or someone else?—called his name in a muffled panic.
He couldn't respond.
His eyes fluttered shut.
Did I save them? he thought. Please… Let this be the one where no one dies. Let this be the last time.
Darkness.
And for once—peace.