Dathweet escaped his confinement and made his way back toward the old path, retracing the route to the camp. But the place that once served as a haven for survivors… was now deserted. No voices, no movement. Just puddles of blood and torn, naked corpses strewn across the ground.
Dathweet:
"They already attacked this place… so fast…"
He stood amidst the carnage, unsure of where to go next—when a familiar voice spoke behind him.
Lyun:
"I've been hoping to see you again."
He spun around, startled. It was her.
Dathweet (smiling faintly):
"You're still alive…"
Lyun:
"I couldn't die… not when the person I love is still alive."
He froze. A storm of emotion surged through him. He stepped back a few paces, then sat down near the edge of a broken wall, eyes staring into nothingness.
Dathweet:
"I… I don't know if I can return that kind of feeling. Right now, you're the only one I feel anything for, but…"
Lyun quietly walked over and sat beside him. She gently reached for his cold, trembling hand.
Lyun:
"You don't have to decide anything. As long as I can be by your side, that's enough."
Dathweet (shoulders sagging, voice laced with fear):
"But I'm afraid… afraid I'll hurt you. Afraid I'll stop being myself. I'm scared that… if I ever find something like family again… it'll just be taken from me."
Lyun (softly):
"It's alright. We'll get through it together."
He leaned into her shoulder. His chest heavy, his heart buried in a storm of emotions. In that moment, he let it all out. He told her everything—about the corruption, about throwing away his morals, about the path he could no longer turn back from.
Lyun didn't interrupt. She just sat there, holding him—like someone comforting a child who had woken from a nightmare.
Dathweet (whispering, almost crying):
"I just… I want someone to walk with me to the end of this life. Is that too much to ask? I'm so scared, Lyun… scared to death."
Lyun (placing a hand over his chest):
"Everything will be okay. We'll face it together. Alright?"
Dathweet (hesitant):
"Should I even say yes? I'm not sure… I don't know if I can ever find my way back to the light."
Lyun:
"Everyone has darkness inside them. What matters is how we face it—especially when it means protecting those we love. So tell me, Dathweet… will you face your darkness to protect me?"
Dathweet (raising his head, eyes slowly regaining light):
"Yes… If I can… I will. You're the only one I trust… the only one I care about now."
As the two sat talking, a shadow loomed at the alley's entrance—a towering figure. Behind him, dozens of infected crept forward, silent and hungry like a pack of hunting wolves.
Coss (smirking):
"Well, well… hiding pretty well, huh? Took me a while to find you."
Dathweet instantly stood, one hand gathering energy into a crimson blade, the other cloaked in Nifow. He turned his head and shouted to Lyun:
Dathweet:
"Run! I'll hold them off!"
He lunged forward, swinging his blade at Coss. The axe came up to block—steel and energy clashing with a burst of sparks.
Coss:
"Oh? Someone else is still alive?"
Dathweet (through gritted teeth):
"Your axe… is tougher than it looks."
Without pause, he slammed a Nifow-covered fist into Coss's gut. The man staggered back a few steps—but that was it. He didn't even flinch.
Behind him, the infected screamed and charged. Each one bore its own deformity or unique trait. Some had claws like scythes, others had twisted drill-like arms, and some were encased in skin tough as stone.
Dathweet stepped back, dodging the storm of blows raining down around him. One strike grazed his face—blood splattered across his forehead. He clenched his jaw, panting.
Dathweet (hoarse):
"These infected… weren't they the ones sent out on supply runs…?"
Surrounded on three sides—one man against a swarm of beasts.
He gripped his blood-red energy blade tighter, his other fist pulled back, Nifow swirling like a spear ready to pierce.
Coss stood facing him, both hands gripping the large axe. His gaze was dead cold—no longer wild, but sharp, suffocatingly focused. Behind him, over twenty infected stood. Deformed. Mutated. Yet each carried the remnants of once-trained warriors.
Coss:
"Well, Dathweet. You planning to fight them all by yourself?"
Dathweet:
"You better be ready… blood's gonna stain this whole damn square."
A roar. He charged.
The blade sliced sideways—an infected didn't even have time to react before it was cut clean in half, from shoulder to hip, guts pouring out like wet sludge. Another lunged behind him—Dathweet spun, driving his left fist into its skull, shattering half its head.
He didn't stop.
He ripped the head—spine still attached—from the last corpse and swung it like a flail, smashing it into the face of the next infected. That one exploded in a spray of blood and brains.
Screams erupted. The swarm closed in.
One leapt from behind. Dathweet pivoted, yanked a corpse's intestines and whipped them like a lasso, dragging the attacker down—then stomped its chest into mush.
Blood. Smoke. Bone fragments filled the air.
Coss watched, unmoved, one hand still resting on his axe. He was observing—measuring the savagery of his prey.
A massive infected lunged forward. Its mouth bared sharp fangs, hands morphed into curved claws. Dathweet let it stab through his shoulder—then laughed, wild and feral.
He shoved his hand into the beast's chest, yanked out its heart before it could retract, took a savage bite, and stared at the rest with burning, blood-red eyes.
Dathweet:
"Jealous?"
The pack hesitated. Coss frowned.
Dathweet launched forward again—no longer human, but a monster awakened in hell.
The infected howled, louder, but it didn't stop him. A fat one rushed—Dathweet cleaved off the top half of its head, leaving the brain exposed like soup in a bowl. He stomped on another's face, lifted the body and used it as a shield.
The entire camp was in ruins. Wood. Metal. Blood. Organs. Twisted together like a nightmare.
One infected jumped from above, wielding a glowing energy weapon. Dathweet waited—then yanked a nearby spine, still connected to its skull, and flung it upward like a whip. It cracked the airborne one in the face—he crashed down, skull smashing open like a melon.
Dathweet panted. Blood covered his face. His clothes were soaked like a butcher's apron. Nifow hissed around his fists, his body taut like a beast ready to pounce.
Dathweet (muttering):
"How many more…"
The answer—came in steel.
Shhhk!
A diagonal slash from behind.
Coss had moved like a ghost—his axe slicing across Dathweet's neck, carving deep. Blood sprayed in torrents. Dathweet dropped to his knees, one hand clutched his neck, eyes blazing red.
Coss (mocking):
"Had enough fun, filthy heir of a noble bloodline?"
Dathweet said nothing. Blood kept flowing.
But his hand… never dropped the blade.
Under the rain of blood and the suffocating stench of metal, Dathweet stood—back hunched, blood cascading down his chest. He gasped for air, but gripped his crimson sword tighter than ever.
Around him, over half the infected were dead. The ground was littered with twitching bodies, spilled intestines glistening across the dirt. B ut Coss… was still standing.
He swung his axe horizontally at Dathweet's head — Dathweet ducked, letting the blade slice past his ear. In the same motion, he spun around and stabbed his energy blade into Coss's gut. Blood burst out. But Coss only grinned, grabbed the blade with his bare hand, and slammed a punch into Dathweet's face.
Both were thrown backward. The fight wasn't over.
Just as Dathweet braced himself for the next blow, a sudden wave of footsteps thundered in from behind — sharp, coordinated, military precision in every step.
Lucky:
"Fall back! Team B, suppressive fire! Team C, evacuate the wounded!"
Bursts of magical light and explosive energy rounds rained down from behind Dathweet. Dozens of infected were blown back, flesh and blood spraying in every direction. Coss's eyes darted around — half his remaining force was gone. The killing intent in his gaze began to dim.
Coss (muttering):
"Tch… not my time to die."
He slammed the butt of his axe into the ground, sending a shockwave outward to force distance, then leapt back and shouted:
Coss:
"Retreat! We save the rest for later!"
The remaining infected instantly followed him into the darkness. Only a few wounded stragglers remained, groaning in pain as they bled into the soil.
Dathweet struggled to stay standing. His vision blurred, and his grip on the energy blade weakened. From a distance, he saw Lucky approaching — but blood kept gushing down his neck, staining his shirt a vivid red.
Dathweet (whispering):
"Heh… right on time…"
His body collapsed, and the world faded to black.
Dathweet woke up.
He felt cold air grazing against his bandaged wounds. He was lying on a bed. Next to him, Lyun had slumped over, asleep from exhaustion. She had clearly stayed by his side through the entire time he was unconscious.
Lucky (calmly):
"You're awake, Dathweet."
Dathweet (glancing at Lyun, whispering):
"Shhh… Someone's sleeping. Keep it down."
Lucky (shrugging):
"You're one strange guy. Alright then, feel strong enough to talk outside?"
Dathweet nodded. He gently adjusted Lyun, laying her flat on the bed and pulling a blanket over her. Then he stepped out of the tent.
Outside was a vast cavern — towering and dim. Above, the moonlight filtered through jagged gaps in the stone, casting weak beams down to the ground. It was the only thing making this place look remotely… alive.
Dathweet (coldly):
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
Lucky (calm, but serious): "We infiltrated the infected zone disguised as one of them. I saw Coss drag you back… but he didn't kill you. I need to know why."
Dathweet (half-smiling):
"And after hearing all that… you still didn't come to save me. Impressive."
Lucky (expression darkening): "I couldn't risk it. I'm responsible for dozens of lives trapped in this hell. One mistake, and they all die."
Dathweet (voice flat):
"So now you want my blood, right? To find a cure?"
Lucky (nodding):
"Yes. Though it might not work. Still… I've managed to contact the mainland. In two days, a ship will arrive to extract the last survivors."
Dathweet:
"They know?"
Lucky:
"They know. That's the worst part. When the ship arrives, we'll have two hours to board. If we don't make it… this entire island will be wiped out."
Dathweet (looking up):
"Wiped out how?"
Lucky (exhaling):
"The King of Holid, Shoji… will have over a hundred mages chant in unison. Using two Ancient Stars as cores… nothing will survive the aftermath."
Dathweet (grimly):
"Not much time, huh."
Lucky (nodding, voice firm):
"None at all. And it's not just a race against time… but against monsters smarter than we expected."
The next morning.
Lyun opened her eyes. Pale light filtered through the cracks in the cave wall. She turned her head — Dathweet sat cross-legged beside her, eyes half-closed, surrounded by a faint red aura of focused energy. It looked like meditation, but there was no peace in his expression — only sharp, cold determination.
Lyun (softly, her voice a mix of sorrow and relief):
"Good morning… my sweet boy."
Dathweet opened his eyes. Sharp. Alert. But the warmth he once had was gone.
Dathweet:
"Morning. Get some more rest. Today might be long."
Lyun (stretching, sitting up):
"Where are you going?"
Dathweet (rising, attaching his custom sword hilt):
"Back to the Koju grounds. Maybe there's something left that can help in the final battle. Maybe there isn't. But I need to be sure."
Lyun (worried):
"Be careful. This last fight… won't be easy."
Dathweet didn't answer. He just nodded once, then stepped out of the cave and into the morning mist.
Outside the forest path leading to the Koju training ground.
Dathweet left the shelter and walked deeper into the forest — where sunlight could barely penetrate the thick canopy above. The stench of rotting grass and dried blood clung to the air, forming a thick, suffocating atmosphere.
He passed decaying trunks, roots torn from the earth as if something massive had slithered through. Each step sank into something soft, mushy — unclear whether it was dirt or the remains of animals.
Then he stopped.
Laughter.
A wild, feral screech, like metal scraping against a hollow iron pipe.
A group of creatures — once human — had gathered beneath a tree. A young girl was pinned to the ground. Her clothes were torn to shreds, her body dragged like meat about to be butchered.
One held her arms. Another pinned her legs. A third was behind her, panting heavily — his hand was somewhere no one should ever touch. Around them, the others howled and shrieked like it was some twisted celebration.
One of them laughed:
"Give her more! Look at her shake! God, she's adorable!"
They pulled out a bottle of thick, red liquid — blood, or something worse — and poured it down her throat. She tried to resist, but she was just a rabbit caught in a pack of starving beasts.
Dathweet didn't speak.
Only his hand clenched tighter — the energy around him thickened, red strands rising from his skin like veins of pure rage.
A deep breath — and then he charged.
Bones cracked. Blood splattered.
No time to react. Each strike of his blade was quiet, but merciless. One didn't even get to turn before being sliced clean in half. Another tried to scream, but half his face exploded under a Nifow-coated punch before he could make a sound.
Only the girl remained.
She trembled where she sat, clothes torn to ribbons, eyes rolled white in terror. Blood clung to her mouth. The stench was overwhelming.
She couldn't speak — her lips moved, pleading silently.
Dathweet approached. His eyes landed on the stains around her mouth.
He spoke, cold and low:
Dathweet:
"…You drank their blood."
No hesitation. No pity.
The red blade rose.
And silence returned — as if the screams had never existed at all.
Dathweet stepped through the crumbling gates of the Koju training ground. No signs of battle. No blood, no screams. The place was eerily quiet — untouched by the madness beyond.
He walked slowly through the dust-covered corridor. The wooden walls were peeling, the hallway abandoned like an old monastery. When he reached the main training yard, a small figure emerged from behind the wooden pillars — barely four feet tall.
Kogu:
"Looks like… you've tasted the dark side too."
Dathweet:
"Who are you?"
Kogu:
"Leader of Koju. Not that I deserve that title anymore."
Dathweet:
"You've… touched the darkness as well?"
Kogu (nodding):
"Yes. Not as deep as you… but I cast my morals aside once. To protect this place. To protect… the children."
Dathweet (clenching his fist):
"Why not leave? Go to the shelter?"
Kogu:
"They refused to leave. And I… I couldn't abandon the legacy of Koju. This place… is all that remains."
Dathweet:
"Then what do you want? I came here… to grow stronger."
Kogu (silent for a moment):
"There's one way. Kill me… and the children. Absorb my energy. The strength of someone who's touched the dark side… won't be small."
Dathweet (voice low):
"Give me a reason. I'm corrupted… but I'm not a monster."
Kogu (in pain):
"I thought the same… but the darkness of Koju doesn't spare anyone. Maybe… death is the only peace left for me."
Dathweet:
"What about the children? Should they die just so… you can die with someone you knew?"
Kogu (sighing, eyes dim):
"The infected broke in days ago. I couldn't protect them all. Half of them… are already infected. But because of their Koju blood, the virus spreads slower. For now, they're fine, but later…"
Dathweet:
"And the ones not yet infected?"
Kogu (bitter laugh):
"They're changing too. Blood, corpses, fear… I once had to butcher the infected just to feed them. I tried to hide it, but they saw. I fear… one day they'll be worse than the infected. What am I saying, why would I want to kill them?"
Dathweet:
"And killing them… is what you call mercy?"
Kogu (muttering, losing control):
"I don't know anymore… maybe it is… maybe it isn't. Maybe… I'm saying things I shouldn't…"
A heavy silence swallowed the wooden yard. Dathweet looked into the eyes of the small old man before him — and saw the future version of himself. A man who had gone so far he no longer knew who he was saving… or killing.
He stepped forward slowly. Energy gathered in his hand, forming a crimson blade edged in faint black.
The blade pressed against Kogu's neck. The old man didn't flinch. He simply closed his eyes — like a man in prayer.
No resistance. Only the hilt he once carried — the symbol of a Koju master's honor — was tossed aside. It hit the ground with a dry "clink."
Dathweet:
"…Goodbye."
The blade pierced through. Kogu collapsed without a sound. Eyes shut. His lips moved — whispering either a chant… or an apology too late.
Dathweet knelt, placed a hand on the old man's chest.
Energy spread… then returned. Quietly, Dathweet absorbed all that remained of Kogu's power.
Finished, he turned and walked toward the last room down the corridor — where the children were kept.
The wooden door creaked open.
Inside were small children — most barely six or seven. Some still laughed. Some looked at him with innocent eyes. A little girl approached, holding a plate of greasy roasted meat — what they believed to be a "normal meal."
Child:
"Who are you? Wanna play with us?"
Dathweet stood still. His hand trembled slightly.
One second. Two.
A flicker of doubt on his face — but his eyes remained empty.
Again, energy gathered in his hands. Twin blades appeared — this time deep red, edged in black. No longer weapons of war… but symbols of judgment.
No one knows what happened in that room.
Only that when Dathweet stepped back out — his shirt was soaked in blood, trails dripping down to the very hem. The evening light touched his tangled hair, casting his shadow over the red-stained earth.
He never looked back.
Only whispered — as if to himself:
Dathweet:
"I really have… forgotten Hakan's teachings, haven't I…?"
Ken (inside his head):
(Maybe… But who knows, one day… you might remember. And if you do, I hope you can live — the way Hakan once did.)
Dathweet stood in the middle of the yard. The wind blew, carrying dust and the scent of ash. He looked up at the sky.
There was no light left there.
— End of Chapter —