The silence after Nicolas' revelation felt heavier than stone.
"The core…" Hakari's voice cracked. His chest tightened as if his ribs themselves rebelled against the truth. "…the core is Waren?"
"Yes," Nicolas said flatly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. His eyes gleamed in the fading light of Akuma's streets.
Hakari stumbled back, disbelief clear on his face. "Then… how are we going to—"
"No." Weller's voice cut through the tension like steel. His hand clenched into a fist. "Not you. Not Hakari. Not anyone… except me."
Hakari turned sharply. "Weller, what are you saying?"
Before the argument could spark further, Nicolas' deep chuckle filled the space. He looked between them, amused. "Are we rushing towards the cave already? Hah. Brave… but foolish. Are you sure about this plan, boy?" His eyes narrowed as they landed on Weller. "What's your name again?"
"…Weller," he said firmly. "And I am sure. I've already placed an artifact on the back of Waren's head while we fought before. Small. Almost untraceable. It'll guide us."
Nicolas tilted his head, his grin sharp and wolfish. "Clever. But artifacts… only take you so far. Which means we wait."
"Wait?" Yushi frowned. "For what?"
"For night," Nicolas answered, his voice lowering to a near growl. "That's when Akuma opens. When the sand clouds clear and the shield holding this place underground weakens. That is when the true city awakens."
Hakari's eyes narrowed. "Shield?"
Nicolas' grin faltered. His voice grew darker. "Akuma isn't simply hidden. It's buried. Wrapped in a barrier of earth and curse. The shield keeps it concealed… and alive. Break it from the outside, it heals within minutes. But if it's broken from the inside…" His gaze hardened. "…then it won't heal. Not fully."
The implication sank like lead.
Hakari's voice shook. "You mean… someone broke the shield from inside? That's not even possible. Not even for you."
Nicolas' jaw clenched. His tone turned cold, but hesitation clung to his words. "And yet, it happened. Long ago. I was only a boy then, but I remember."
Hakari stepped closer, his breath sharp. "What are you talking about?"
Nicolas didn't meet his eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper, as if afraid the night itself might overhear.
"When the war began between Koha and Akuma, we rebelled. We didn't want to be part of Koha's chains. But we were crushed. Defeated so utterly it was as if the desert itself betrayed us. And the one who turned the tide…" Nicolas swallowed hard. "…your mother may have told you of him, Hakari."
Hakari's eyes widened. "She did. She told me… the king sent someone."
"Yes." Nicolas' eyes glimmered with something between fear and reverence. "A figure people whisper about even now, though many dismiss him as legend. But I saw him. I was only eight years old… and I will never forget." His voice faltered, breaking. "He was like… a ghost."
Kage leaned forward, his tone hushed. "His name?"
Nicolas' lips trembled, his breath catching. "…They called him… Baratia. Baratia the Ghost."
---
Far from Akuma, through a fog thick as death itself, a man rode with his horse. Behind him marched an army of one hundred. Each soldier's face was wrapped in white cotton, only their eyes visible—dark, unyielding, haunting. They moved with eerie silence, their footsteps falling as one.
They weren't men. They weren't soldiers. They were shadows.
The Ghost Squad.
And at their head rode Baratia.
---
Meanwhile, in the capital of Koha, word reached the throne.
"Sir! Sir!" A messenger burst into the grand hall, falling to his knees before the king. "He has been victorious. The capital has fallen."
King Yami rose from his throne, his heavy robes dragging across the marble. His eyes burned with both awe and dread. "…He did it again."
The advisor at his side bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, your faith in him should never falter. Who would believe it possible? With so few, he crushed an entire capital. His legend only grows."
Yami's jaw tightened. "Faith? You misunderstand. It isn't faith I question. It's him."
"My lord?"
The king turned sharply, his voice cracking under the weight of something he had never admitted aloud. "Perhaps… I fear him. Yes. I fear him."
The advisor shook his head in disbelief. "Absurd. You, the King of Koha, fearing a single man?"
"You don't know him. I do." Yami's voice trembled with rare vulnerability. "He was a boy once. A boy I underestimated. And now… he is my rival. Not just Koha's sword, not just its soul. He has become something else. Something untouchable. Baratia the Ghost—and his squad—are the only shield left protecting Koha from the dark."
---
The Battlefield-
On the blood-soaked plains, the truth of the king's words sprawled in horror.
Corpses lay in heaps, the air stinking of iron and decay. Limbs scattered like discarded dolls, heads severed, chests torn open as though the earth itself had swallowed and spit them out. Thousands of men had fought. Thousands had died.
And yet, at the center, the Ghost Squad stood untouched.
Baratia himself sat atop a throne of corpses, flesh and blood molding into a grotesque seat. His sword pierced through a mound of bodies, still dripping crimson. His right hand rested casually upon the hilt, while his left dragged across his masked face, smearing blood away from his eyes.
Eyes black as void. Eyes that did not blink. Eyes that were… all dark.
The battlefield fell silent, save for the whisper of the dead.
---
Back in Akuma
The group finally reached the edge of a vast depression in the desert. Nicolas stopped, pointing forward with a grin that carried no joy.
"This… is the hole." His voice echoed strangely in the stillness.
The others gathered at the edge. The hole was unlike anything they'd seen—massive, perfectly circular, edges scorched black as if the shield of sand had been burned open by some cosmic flame. From within, a faint hum rose, unnatural, pulling at their bones.
Hakari's breath caught. "Even so… how do we reach it? My flight has limits. I can't carry all of us."
Nicolas threw back his head and laughed, the sound bouncing off the empty air like broken glass. "No, no, no. Not you. Me. Your offer pleases me, so I'll take you all myself."
Hakari's eyes narrowed. "…Alright then. Everyone, grab Nicolas."
"Hey now," Nicolas smirked, "don't say it like that."
Still, they obeyed. One by one, Hakari, Weller, Yushi, and Kage clung to him tightly, uncertainty gripping their faces.
Nicolas' grin widened, sharp and wild. "Take a breath."
Before Hakari could warn them, Nicolas bent his knees and leapt.
---
The world blurred.
In an instant, the market below shrank to specks of light. The wind screamed past them, tearing at their clothes, dragging their hair upward. The sky itself seemed to lurch as Nicolas soared higher, higher, beyond what any man should ever reach.
Yushi's mouth opened in a silent scream. Kage's grip tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. Hakari could only think one thing—this isn't possible.
Then, with a jolt, they landed. Solid ground beneath their feet.
Hakari gasped for breath, his chest heaving. "I… I was about to say… he's about to jump."
The others collapsed to their knees, eyes wide with disbelief.
---
They stood atop a plateau, sand stretching endlessly around them.
Hakari wiped the sweat from his brow. "Now… we find the cave." His voice carried both determination and exhaustion.
"No…" Weller's voice was sharp, urgent. "Look behind."
The group turned.
And their eyes widened as one.
There it stood. Rising like a wound in the desert's flesh—black stone jagged and pulsing faintly with light. Its entrance yawned open, shadows pouring forth as if eager to swallow them whole.
The Cave of Mura.
Hakari's chest tightened. For all the battles he had faced, for all the dangers he had endured—this was different. This was it.
And somewhere inside… waited Waren.