The crimson leaves crunched underfoot as they left the ruined bridge behind. The mist hung heavier than before, coiling between the trees like something alive.
Ryouma shoved his hands in his pockets, whistling under his breath. "So… second trial, huh? Wonder what kind of freakshow's waiting for us next."
No answer.
Klaus walked ahead, his eyes fixed on the path. His footsteps were steady, almost too steady, every movement measured.
Sofie glanced at him. That same icy expression hadn't changed since he'd released Ryouma. It was as if his mind was already ten steps ahead, calculating.
Ryouma chuckled nervously. "You know, uh… I actually wasn't hiding from you guys earlier. Just, you know, scouting the perimeter. Gotta make sure we're not walking into an ambush."
Still nothing.
The only sound was the wind through the trees and the faint, rhythmic sound of Klaus's boots hitting the dirt.
Sofie could feel it that the air around him wasn't just silent, it was heavy. Like every step was a warning to Ryouma.
Ryouma laughed again, a little too loud this time.
Klaus didn't even look back.
Inwardly, Ryouma's grin faltered. "Damn it… I can't read this kid at all."
The fog thickened, curling around their ankles. The faint outline of another torii gate appeared ahead. Sofie's eyes narrowed at the second trial's entrance.
Klaus stopped, his gaze locked on the dark shape beyond the gate. Without a word, he started forward again, leaving both of them trailing behind.
And somehow, that silence was more unnerving than any threat he could have spoken.
The climb was slow, each step muffled by the thick fog curling around their legs. The air was thinner here, but Klaus's voice cut through it without effort.
"What was that?"
Ryouma blinked, caught off guard. "What was… what?"
"The monk. The way it fought. The way it lived after death."
Ryouma exhaled, deciding to go with the flow. Maybe if he gave Klaus a bit more, it'd ease the tension. "Right… I guess I didn't tell you everything. The centipedes—yeah, they're not just some creepy pests. They provide a… source of longevity. The monks of the Ryugakuji temple… they coveted immortality. Started experimenting on children—those with the so-called 'rejuvenation' gift—to create a brand of immortality."
Sofie's jaw clenched.
"It didn't go well," Ryouma continued. "Only one child survived. They… used the centipedes, you see. Creatures found in organisms that defy death. They fused them in… hoping for forever."
Klaus's eyes narrowed. "But where did the centipedes get this life-giving property? Is it an inherent ability these big worms have, or… is it derived from somewhere else—like the dragon heritage?"
"The worms act like parasites," Ryouma replied, voice tightening. "Eventually taking over the host. Most of the clergy in the temple's main hall are already infested. That monk? Likely their 'success story.'"
Klaus's stare was sharp. "But what's the main source? Why do they exist in the first place?"
Ryouma's voice faltered. "Well… the people here tried to get the Divine Dragon's immortality blessing. Something went wrong. They tried to replicate it. I don't know more than that."
"Replicating immortality?" Klaus repeated, almost like he was weighing the words.
Ryouma nodded. "That's all I know."
Klaus gave a curt nod and resumed walking.
They reached the second peak of Mount Yorei, the air colder and heavier. Without warning, Klaus stopped mid-step.
"You will fight this trial," Klaus said flatly.
"Neither I nor Sofie will interfere."
The tone was frigid, edged with killing intent. "If you try anything funny here again—"
Ryouma cut in quickly, "Yeah, yeah, I get it!" before Klaus could finish, then dashed off toward where the trial likely awaited.
Sofie glanced at Klaus. "…Is it alright?"
"What's alright?"
"Leaving him alone to fight?"
"Don't worry," Klaus replied. "From the moment we met him, he's been watching us closely. And…"
Sofie's eyes widened—Klaus shivered slightly.
"…I feel he's on par with a monarch," Klaus finished. "That's why I showed my power earlier—to make sure he knew we're not to be trifled with. But… time's running out."
He turned to her, voice dropping to a quiet plan. "When we fight the dragon—we beat it. And when we do, you take the tears and run. Leave the rest to me."
"What? No." Sofie shook her head sharply. "I'm not leaving you alone!"
Klaus met her eyes. "Sofie… do you trust me?"
Her throat tightened, tears blurring her vision. "…I always did, Klaus. From the start."
A rare smile crossed his lips. He stepped forward, wrapping her in an embrace, his warmth cutting through the chill. She closed her eyes, holding on.
---
Ryouma's boots crunched lightly against the gravel path as he made his way deeper into the second trial grounds.
Halfway through, he stopped. His eyes darted to the treeline, scanning for any sign of Klaus.
Nothing.
With a quiet exhale, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a black, battered phone. The screen's glow painted his face in pale blue light as he dialed a number from memory.
A few rings. Then, a voice—low, impatient.
"What?"
Ryouma's voice was calm, almost casual. "Getting the Dragon Tears will be a little hard… but I'll make sure to get it."
The voice on the other end was quiet for a beat before asking, "Any interferences?"
"Yes," Ryouma replied simply.
The voice's tone turned sharp. "Kill them."
The line cut. No goodbye. Just static, then silence.
Ryouma stared at the dark screen for a moment before slipping the phone away. His lips stretched into a slow, warped grin—the kind that didn't reach the eyes.
And then something stirred.
The shadows between two jagged stones swelled unnaturally, writhing like liquid tar before spilling outward.
Ryouma's hand moved without thought, gripping the hilt of his sword. His gaze never left the growing form. The darkness twisted, coiled, and rose into a towering, monstrous silhouette.
Two eyes ignited in a sickly, molten green glow. A maw lined with jagged teeth cracked open in a hiss that shook the ground. Scales glistened like wet obsidian under the dim light, each one edged in venomous mist. The sheer pressure from its presence seemed to warp the air.
Ryouma's voice was steady. Almost mocking.
"…So you were a basilisk, not a serpent, eh?"
The beast lowered its head, the fork of its tongue flickering out like a whip. The shadows quivered around it—this was no mere trial beast. This was a predator that had lived here for centuries.
And Ryouma didn't take a single step back.
The basilisk's hiss grew into a guttural roar, rattling the rocks underfoot. Its body coiled and tensed like a compressed spring, every scale catching a flicker of green light.
Ryouma's fingers tightened around his sword's hilt. Shing! the blade slid free, its polished steel reflecting the beast's warped visage.
"Come on then," he muttered.
The basilisk struck first.
Its head snapped forward with the speed of a ballista bolt. Ryouma pivoted sideways, the air beside him shattering with the sound of its fangs piercing stone. The rock wall behind him exploded into chunks, shards flying past his cheek and drawing a thin line of blood.
Ryouma answered with a slash. His sword carved through the air and bit into the basilisk's thick neck scales. Sparks flew, but the cut barely went deep just enough to spill a spray of viscous, dark-green blood that hissed and smoked upon hitting the ground.
The basilisk recoiled, thrashing violently. Its tail whipped around, a blur of obsidian muscle. Ryouma barely ducked, the tail slicing through a boulder behind him like soft bread. Stone dust rained over his shoulders.
He darted in low, boots digging into the dirt, and plunged his sword into the softer flesh beneath the monster's jaw. The blade sank half its length before the beast bellowed and snapped its head upward, flinging him like a ragdoll into a cliffside.
CRUNCH! — pain shot through his ribs, but he landed on one knee, spitting blood onto the ground with a grin.
"Not bad," he breathed, wiping his mouth.
The basilisk lunged again this time its gaping maw aimed to swallow him whole. Ryouma didn't retreat. He stepped into the charge, planting his feet, then slid under the serpent's jaw and ripped his blade upward.
Steel tore through muscle and scale, splitting the underside of its mouth in a grotesque, wet spray. Blood — hot, thick, and burning with venom — splashed over him. His coat hissed where it landed, smoke curling upward.
The basilisk's scream was deafening, the sound vibrating through his bones.
It thrashed in agony, coils smashing into the ground, turning stone to rubble. Ryouma leapt onto its back in a single bound, sprinting up its slick, scaly spine. His boots skidded over blood, but he kept going — every heartbeat syncing with the pounding in his ears.
The beast tried to twist its head to snap at him, but he jumped high, blade raised above his head.
"—DIE—!"
He came down like a guillotine, driving the sword deep into the back of its skull. The point burst from the basilisk's mouth, dragging a torrent of black-green ichor with it. The ground beneath them was painted in gore.
The monster convulsed once… twice… then fell still, its body collapsing in a thunder of crushed earth.
Ryouma stood over it, chest heaving, blood dripping from his chin. He yanked the blade free, its steel steaming in the cold air.
He looked down at the corpse, and the grin returned — wider, sharper, almost inhuman.
"Guess Klaus isn't the only one with bite."