The first drop of blood fell onto the pristine snow like a crimson gem.
Takeru didn't feel the biting winter cold, nor did he hear the shouts of the men who had surrounded him in the abandoned square behind the village.
All he could hear was the whisper of Kuroyami no Tsurugi inside his head:
— "Kill them... all of them."
The first to charge was Koji, the hulking brute who used to beat children for fun. He lunged forward with a rusted blade, but to Takeru's new eye, he moved like a sluggish beast drowning in syrup.
The black sword moved on its own, cleaving Koji's arm off like it was a dry twig.
The scream that followed wasn't human.
— "A demon! He's possessed!"
The remaining five men hesitated. One of them, a boy no older than Takeru, began trembling.
The sharp stench of urine filled the air as the boy collapsed to his knees.
— "Please… I'm not—"
But Takeru didn't hear him.
The sword dragged him like a puppet through a stage of slaughter.
Bodies fell one by one — some headless, others split from throat to gut. The melting snow turned into a lake of blood.
When it ended, only a single sound echoed through the square:
The distant bark of a stray dog.
Then—
Applause.
---
Perched on a crumbling rooftop sat Ryu, clapping slowly, his eyes wide like two empty teacups.
— "Oh… gods." His voice was a blend of fear and awe. "You've become a legend overnight."
Takeru turned to him.
The black sword still dripped warm blood.
Part of him wanted to raise it toward Ryu—
but something stopped him.
— "Why… didn't you run?" Takeru asked, his voice rough as if it hadn't been used in years.
Ryu jumped down, avoiding the puddles of red.
— "Because I'm the only one who knows your secret," he whispered, nodding toward the sword.
"That's not just a weapon… it's a curse, isn't it?"
The wind carried the smell of burning flesh from somewhere in the village.
Takeru looked down at his hands.
They were no longer hands—
they were instruments of death.
— "What do you want?" he asked coldly.
Ryu smiled, but fear still lingered in his eyes.
— "I want to show you something… a place where those who seek you are hiding. A place with answers—about that sword."
He pointed toward the distant mountains, where the ruins of Kazuo-ji Castle stood, abandoned since the age of the samurai.
— "Up there, in that castle… there's a man who knows everything about things like this."
He glanced at the sword, then added darkly:
"But one warning, my friend…"
He stepped close, until his nose nearly brushed Takeru's ear:
— "If you go there… you may never come back."
---
Inside a cave at the edge of the village—Takeru's hideout since morning—he sat trying to clean the blade with a damp rag.
But the blood wouldn't leave.
Every time he wiped it, it returned… as if the blade bled from within.
— "Don't clean me... I am not something you get to handle."
Takeru nearly dropped the sword.
This voice wasn't in his mind this time—
It came from the shadows.
A tall man stood at the entrance of the cave, dressed in black, a straw hat hiding his eyes.
He didn't move forward—
but his shadow stretched like an octopus until it reached Takeru's feet.
— "Beautiful," the man said, his voice like rustling autumn leaves. "You've finally found Kuroyami."
— "Who… are you?"
Takeru jumped to his feet, sword raised.
The man laughed—
a sound like glass breaking.
— "Me? I'm just a merchant… and a merchant knows everything has a price. That sword…"
He pointed to Takeru's blood-red eye.
"Its price is far beyond gold."
— "Every time you use it, it will carve away a piece of your soul… until there's nothing left of you—only it."
The darkness inside the cave thickened like smoke.
Takeru felt like he was choking.
— "Why are you telling me this?"
The strange merchant turned to leave, but his words lingered in the cave like a curse:
— "Because someone is waiting for you in the castle… and something is waiting inside you."
By the time he vanished,
Takeru realized his palm was bleeding from how tightly he'd gripped the sword.
Blood dripped through his fingers.
But it wasn't red—
It was black.