The village burned in silence.
Arin knelt at the center of the ruins, his hands trembling as black markings crept slowly along his arm. They pulsed faintly, reacting to his heartbeat.
Aanya's scream still echoed in his ears.
He slammed his fist into the ground.
"I'll kill them," he whispered. "Every last one."
A cold wind swept through the destroyed village.
"You won't," a voice said, calm and unafraid.
Arin spun, chakra flaring violently.
A man stood atop a broken pillar.
He was old—but not weak. His posture was straight, his presence heavy. A long staff rested against his shoulder, its surface carved with unfamiliar symbols.
His eyes glowed faintly.
"You'll die," the man continued, stepping forward, "before you even reach the demon realm."
Arin snarled. "Who are you?"
The man glanced at Arin's arm.
"So the link has awakened," he murmured. "I was afraid of that."
Arin froze.
"You know about it."
The man nodded. "Of course I do. I was waiting for it."
He struck the ground with his staff.
The air shifted.
For the first time, Arin felt it clearly—chakra.
Not just his own.
It flowed through the land, the air, even the broken stones beneath his feet.
"Chakra exists in every human," the man said. "It strengthens the body, sharpens weapons, shields the flesh. Most people never awaken it."
He looked straight into Arin's eyes.
"You were born drowning in it."
Arin's chest tightened.
The man continued, "Demons consume blood to gain power. Humans who drink demon blood gain abilities tied to that demon."
Arin remembered the pain. The blood burning inside him.
"You already have demon blood in you," the man said quietly.
Arin's breath stopped.
"No," he whispered. "I would know."
The man shook his head.
"No. You wouldn't."
He raised his staff, pointing it at Arin's arm.
The markings flared violently.
Images flooded Arin's mind—fire, darkness, chains, a woman screaming—
Arin screamed, falling to his knees.
When the vision ended, he was gasping.
The man lowered his staff.
"Your sister was taken because of what she is," he said. "You were spared because of what you are."
Arin looked up slowly.
"Tell me how to save her."
The man studied him for a long moment.
Then he spoke a name.
"My name is Rudra."
He turned, walking toward the forest.
"Come," Rudra said. "If you want to chase demons, you'll need more than rage."
Arin forced himself to stand.
As he followed, his arm burned again—but t
his time, the markings shifted.
Forming a symbol.
A demon sigil.
Hidden beneath his skin.
---
To be continue...