The room where they'd left Donyoku was austere—barely a clean tatami, an oil lamp, and a water bowl. But now, with Chisiki and Aika there, the atmosphere seemed less gloomy.
Aika, sitting on the bed's edge, observed both with exaggerated attention and declared while standing with theatrical flair:
"Very well, I hereby proclaim myself guardian of this door! Not that I want to leave you alone or anything..." She shot a suspicious glance at Donyoku. "Just that my left ear is tired of hearing your dramatic sighs. Time for the kids to chat!"
"Thank you, Great General Aika," Chisiki said, making a mocking bow as Aika exited with her chest puffed out in fake pride.
When the door closed, the silence between Donyoku and Chisiki was brief. Not uncomfortable, just dense. They'd shared so much that words seemed unnecessary... but that night, something pushed them to speak.
"You know..." Donyoku said, looking at his still-trembling hands. "Sometimes I feel like we were born just to suffer. As if we were destined to lose, to fail, to break."
Chisiki sighed, dropped down beside him, and gave him a light tap on the back of the head.
"And you were the one calling me pessimistic a few years ago?! Come on, if we were that useless we wouldn't be here, would we?"
Donyoku laughed softly—a broken but honest laugh.
"I suppose... though, what we did... everything we've seen... does it really matter to keep going for the prize? For what we came here for?"
Chisiki shook his head.
"It's not about that anymore. We're not here for answers. We're here because, if we don't resist, no one will. If we fall... who'll be left to protect what little is still worth it?"
Both fell silent. Outside, distant voices echoed, murmurs from other participants. But in there, the world narrowed to just the two of them.
"Never told you this, but..." Donyoku murmured. "You're like a brother to me, Chisiki. You always were. With your nonsense, your books, your sermons..."
"And you with your stubbornness, your impulsiveness, your... vegetable face when you're tired," Chisiki joked, smiling.
"Thank you for being here," Donyoku said, looking at him sincerely. "If I were alone... I think I would've lost myself completely."
Chisiki didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked at him seriously for a moment, then raised an eyebrow and said:
"Just for today, I'll let you win the argument. But tomorrow I insult you three times in a row to balance it out."
"Deal," Donyoku laughed.
At the door, Aika smiled without meaning to, her ear clearly pressed against the wood.
"Fools," she whispered. "But they're my fools."
---
Two guards walked the corridor in silence until stopping before the door where Aika remained, listening to the conversation between Donyoku and Chisiki. She smiled faintly, with melancholic warmth, as if wanting to stay a moment longer.
"Participant number 27," one of the guards said with a rough voice. "Your trial begins soon. Prepare yourself and follow us."
Aika sighed, her expression changed. She stood up, smoothed her worn jacket, and walked toward the door.
"Chisiki... Donyoku..." she murmured without turning around. "I need you. Don't leave me alone, okay?"
Chisiki responded firmly:
"We'll always support you. I know you'll win and return alive. I know it."
Donyoku gave her a serene look, though filled with worry:
"If you fail, that's fine... It doesn't matter. Just... come back whole, please."
She nodded silently. But something in the atmosphere, an invisible vibration, disturbed her. It was as if other participants' Shinkon distortions had left a dense stain in the air.
"My instinct..." she whispered to herself as she advanced. "Tells me this won't have a happy ending."
---
The arena received her like a pit. The crowd roared, demanding spectacle. The announcer, for the first time in hours, seemed to hesitate.
"The next trial... consists of evaluating... loyalty, yes, but also... a slave's capacity to endure the loss of dignity. We want to know how long her spirit takes to break."
The crowd applauded. Laughter, whistles, disgusting comments filled the air.
"Make her pose like she's selling her body, let's see if she's good for at least that!"
"Make her recite obscene verses!" another shouted. "If the Shinkon refuses, it's spiritual disobedience!"
"Dance! It doesn't matter if you do it badly, as long as you obey!"
"At least take off the jacket! Make it worth the gold we bet!"
The announcer confirmed it with an uncomfortable gesture. Aika could barely breathe.
Aika swallowed hard. She closed her eyes for a second... and removed her jacket. She did it with tense calm, almost like a silent mockery of their demands. Her Shinkon trembled, not from power... but from doubt.
**CRACK!**
A closed fist slammed into her abdomen. She coughed up blood. Fell to her knees, stunned by the pain.
"If your Shinkon hesitates, you'll be punished," a guard said. "That's the rule."
Aika clenched her teeth, trying to hold back tears.
"What am I doing here...?" she thought. "Why did I accept this? Why must I suffer to entertain these monsters...? And if I just let myself fall... and that's it?"
**CRACK!**
A whip lashed across her back, opening a cut. The burning was unbearable. She whimpered. But she didn't fall.
Aika breathed between sobs. She stood up and tried to somewhat comply with their requests.
"Come on, dance, do something!" a noble shouted. "You're ours now!"
"Get up," another ordered. "You're taking too long."
"Move like a good bitch!" another roared.
Some nobles began throwing small pieces of meat at her, as if feeding an animal in a circus. Others threw small stones, laughing at her reactions.
She tried to move. Clumsy steps, forced words from the song they'd given her. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"We can't hear you!" a guard said, delivering a kick to her leg.
Aika fell, her arms unable to support her weight. Bruises, scratches, small drops of blood already ran down her neck. Her soul seemed to break slowly.
"Is this a trial...?" a woman in the crowd whispered. "This... this is torture."
The murmur drowned in the noise. Aika, on the ground, could barely breathe.
"This world..." she said, barely audible, lips split. "Neither the noblest, nor the purest could save it. Because this world only gives birth... to pigs and monsters."
Slowly, her eyes clouded. But just as she was about to surrender, a spark ignited in her mind.
She remembered Chisiki. Talking with her about ancient books, about philosophies that seemed from another world.
And she remembered him, Donyoku, in the rain, helping her up, believing in her when she couldn't believe in herself.
---
She was trembling, kneeling in a corner of that dark alley in Tsuyoi. She didn't know where to go. She'd lost what little she had, and her body wouldn't respond. She was dirty, hungry... broken. No one stopped to look at her. No one asked if she was okay.
Until he appeared.
A boy with poorly mended clothes and lost gaze, with an improvised bandage on his arm and fresh wounds barely visible under the grime. He stopped when he saw her.
She thought he'd pass by like everyone else. But he didn't.
"Are you... are you broken or just confused?" he asked with an awkwardness almost ridiculous.
She didn't even respond. Just lowered her head.
"I... I have no idea what to say, honestly," he added. "But if you feel like you're worth nothing, then I guess... maybe you just need someone to tell you otherwise."
He sat beside her, no more. Shared half of an old bread he had saved in his jacket. He didn't ask questions. He didn't ask for anything.
And then, when she cried, he listened.
He didn't try to fix her. He just stayed there.
"You're not garbage," he told her quietly. "You're alive, and that's already enough to make the world tremble someday."
It was at that moment, in the silence and ruins, that something inside her broke... but not from pain.
But from the beginning of something new.
"That day... Donyoku saved me. And he didn't even know who I was."
---
And she understood something that burned her chest with emotion:
"That's why I fell in love with him..." she thought. "Because he made me feel this world wasn't completely rotten."
She wiped her tears, crawled on one knee, and in an almost symbolic act... stood up.
Though unsteady.
Though broken.
But still standing.
---
The boos didn't keep them waiting.
"Is that all you've got, slave?!"
"Move! Do what we tell you!"
"You're only good for entertaining us, trash!"
The shouts fell like blades upon Aika. Her body trembled, covered in blows, blood, and humiliation. Her feet barely supported her, her eyes were glassy. She could no longer cry... or react. She simply stood there, motionless. Soul broken, body shattered, will in ruins.
A middle-aged noble, drunk on power and wine, jumped from the stands, wielding a metal rod. He raised it with violence.
"I'll teach you how to obey, bitch!"
Aika lifted her gaze. She said nothing. Just looked at him with absolute contempt, with a mixture of pity and disgust. As if she were watching an insect speak with a human voice.
And just as the noble's arm was about to strike her face...
"He who raises a hand against my slave... won't leave this night alive."
The voice cut through the air like thunder. Silence was immediate.
Everyone turned.
It was Reiji.
He no longer had the kind expression or compassionate gaze. He wasn't the master. He wasn't the man who once guided the young with patience.
He was something else.
A figure between blood and rage. An elegant shadow wrapped in determination.
His clothes were torn, still bearing visible wounds from the previous battle, his breathing heavy. But his voice... his voice resonated like divine punishment.
Even Bokusatsu and Seimei, who had just arrived seeking medicine, stopped dead. They felt something they rarely felt: chills. Not from his Shinkon's power... but from the weight his soul carried at that moment.
The noble who was about to strike Aika retreated, trembling.
Reiji descended the coliseum stairs. Each step was a challenge to those present. Elegant, slow, unbreakable. His legs trembled, yes. But not a single doubt clouded his walk.
He reached Aika.
She, seeing him, didn't know what to say. She only trembled.
And then, he embraced her. Tightly. With a gesture as simple as it was powerful.
Aika... broke.
The tears she had kept behind pain, shame, and fear came pouring out.
She cried.
She cried like a child, like a human being finally free.
And in those arms... she felt alive again.
The announcer swallowed hard. He didn't dare say a word. Finally, he raised his voice:
"D-Due to the owner's interference and the participant's failure to follow rules... the trial is declared failed. However... her withdrawal is permitted."
No one dared protest. No one celebrated.
At that moment, there was no game, no spectacle.
Only the echo of an embrace remained...
and collective fear...
of having awakened the wrath of a man who no longer had pity for monsters.
---
Yodaku descended the stairs like a wolf in noble's clothing. Each step was like the tolling of a death bell. When he stopped before Reiji, he regarded him with the same contempt a king gives a rat that dares to speak.
His voice was a knife:
"Won't you let her go? This... damned slave?" he spat the words as if they dirtied his lips. "This bitch who sells herself for applause and strips for orders?"
And then, without warning, he raised his leg and kicked Aika with brutal precision to her already wounded side, where bruises still bled. The blow threw her to the ground like a broken doll.
Reiji felt his heart tear apart.
Fear surrounded him like chains, yes. But this time it wouldn't be an obstacle.
"I already warned you!"
Reiji's voice exploded like celestial thunder.
It wasn't a shout.
It was a declaration of war.
"I may have fear!
I may not be the strongest!
But I'd rather die defending a student... than die serving this damned rotten kingdom!"
And his Shinkon erupted.
The illusion ceased being mere art. The air trembled. Shadows lengthened. The coliseum walls seemed to melt in an alternate world. Yodaku was trapped in an ethereal prison, a scene where the screams of thousands of tormented souls surrounded him, where every word he had spoken returned as cursed echoes. Everything was nightmare.
But...
Click.
A single finger snap.
And the illusion collapsed like a house of cards. The spectators, nobles, soldiers... all fell silent. Some fell to their knees, others vomited. Bokusatsu took a step back. Seimei frowned. Even demons feel fear, someone thought.
Reiji gasped. Aika barely moved. But he didn't retreat.
---
Meanwhile...
In a hidden corner of the arena, among cracked stone structures and forgotten corridors, Enma smiled with interest.
A silent presence approached.
Kagenami.
The assassin of ethereal movements and immutable face. He didn't have his sword drawn. Not yet.
Enma narrowed her eyes.
"Kagenami isn't like this..." she whispered mockingly.
Kagenami didn't respond. He just observed her.
"Are you the Omnipresent?" he asked with a dry voice.
Enma smiled. She didn't deny. She didn't affirm. She just nodded with monstrous elegance.
"Have you come for answers?"
Kagenami slightly lowered his head, as if accepting that he hadn't.
"No. I've come to kill you."
For an instant, the world became mute.
But then...
A void.
A pressure.
As if the universe stopped breathing.
As if a god's eyes opened somewhere in the sky and pointed directly at Kagenami's soul.
Enma spoke without raising her voice:
"Do you know what the difference is between you and me?"
Her tone wasn't mocking. It was... divine.
"You walk with eyes veiled by truth. But I...
I have seen beyond all comprehension.
I have read secrets that deform the mind.
I have heard whispers that drive sages mad.
I have known the very core of the world, and I have not died."
That makes me more than human.
I am not merely a living encyclopedia.
I am a god disguised as wisdom.
And you... you're nothing but an assassin with a sword."
---
In a world where dignity is auctioned and pain is spectacle, only those who still feel fear can defy the gods.
Thank you for reading this chapter of Chi no Yakusoku.
If you enjoyed it, don't forget to follow for the next step in this dark blood oath.