For a moment, the crimson battlefield was unnaturally still.
Only the low hum of the red sky and the distant echo of steel-on-stone remained, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Takumi peeked out from behind the twisted tree trunk, sweat trickling down his forehead. Tenma crouched low beside him, gripping the handle of his dull, chipped sword so tightly his knuckles had turned bone white.
> "Takumi…" Tenma's voice cracked. "Did you see what he did? He didn't even move."
Takumi didn't answer at first. His eyes stayed locked on the figure in the distance — the Eclipse wielder — standing over the fallen body of his attacker, as if killing him had been as trivial as swatting a fly.
A few feet away, another student was frozen mid-step, sword half-raised, unable to bring himself to move closer.
The Eclipse owner looked up. Slowly. His eyes swept the battlefield — eyes like a wolf who'd grown bored of the hunt but would kill anyway if the prey was foolish enough to stay within reach.
And then… he sheathed his black blade, turned, and simply walked away — boots crunching softly on the cracked stone.
The fear he left behind hung like a choking fog.
Takumi exhaled shakily. "Good. He's gone… at least for now."
But they both knew — he hadn't left because he couldn't kill more. He'd left because they weren't worth it.
---
Somewhere nearby, the air rang with another clash of swords. A boy screamed — begging for help — but no help came. Takumi pulled Tenma back when he tried to peek.
> "Don't look. Focus on breathing. You're shaking too much."
Tenma's shoulders trembled. "We're gonna die here, Takumi. I'm not like you — I can't fight. This sword is nothing — look at it!"
He lifted the battered blade. Its edge was nicked and dull, no glow, no aura — nothing like the shining weapons he'd seen the others wield.
Takumi grabbed his wrist, forcing Tenma to meet his eyes. "Listen to me. Maybe your sword's weak — so what? You're still alive, aren't you? If you're alive, you can do something. We just… have to find a way."
A shadow fell over them.
The boys froze.
Standing above them, half-hidden by the branches, was a tall student — a burly upperclassman who clutched an A-Rank sword, its blade dripping fresh blood onto the cracked roots of the old tree.
> "Hiding, huh? Not a smart idea."
Takumi lunged forward, putting himself between Tenma and the older boy. His S-Rank sword hummed in his grip — heavier than it looked, but warm and comforting. His heartbeat quickened.
> "Back off," Takumi snapped, trying to sound braver than he felt. "There are stronger targets out there."
The upperclassman snorted. "Yeah? Why should I waste energy fighting the strong when I can take out the weak first? Less risk for me. That's the point of this game, right?"
His eyes flicked to Tenma, who was now practically pressed into the tree, face pale.
> "Hey, you got the No. 95, right? Not bad for a shrimp like you. If I kill you now, I get your sword's core — that's how this works, yeah? Don't you know? These swords are more than weapons — they're keys. The more powerful cores you steal, the closer you get to that Dragon God door."
Takumi's mind raced. No one had explained that part yet — but it made horrible sense. Of course they'd turn on each other.
The upperclassman raised his blade. "Sorry, kid. The weak don't last long here."
In that instant, Takumi's feet moved on their own. His sword clashed with the older boy's, sparks bursting as steel scraped steel. He grit his teeth — the weight of the S-Rank blade pressed into his shoulders and arms, heavier than any wooden kendo stick he'd ever held back in gym class.
> "Run, Tenma!" he yelled through clenched teeth.
But Tenma couldn't move. His feet felt nailed to the earth. In his mind flashed every time he'd hidden, every time he'd let someone else stand up for him. His useless sword trembled in his sweaty hands.
Takumi forced the older boy back a step, but a brutal kick slammed into Takumi's ribs, knocking him sideways. He hit the ground with a choked gasp. The older boy's blade lifted again, gleaming with a cruel edge.
Tenma's mind screamed: Move! Do something!
He lurched forward, thrusting his chipped sword at the attacker's back. But it was too slow — too weak — the older boy spun, deflecting the pitiful strike with a single backhand.
> "Nice try, loser."
He elbowed Tenma hard across the jaw. Pain exploded in Tenma's head — his vision swam. He staggered back, the worthless sword slipping from his numb fingers.
Takumi crawled toward him, gasping for breath, blood on his lips. "Get up, Tenma! Please…!"
The older boy smirked, raising his blade for the final blow. "Goodbye."
Then — a flicker of motion. A blur in the corner of Takumi's eye.
The burly student's sword arm froze mid-swing. A moment later, a line of red blossomed across his throat — and his eyes widened in stunned horror. His blade fell from limp fingers. He hit the ground, lifeless.
Standing behind him was another figure — a girl about their age, her short black hair whipping in the wind. In her hand was a slender B-Rank sword, its silver edge now stained crimson.
She glanced down at the dead boy, then at the two of them huddled under the tree.
> "You two wanna die here? Or are you coming with me?"
Takumi struggled to sit up, pulling Tenma close. "Who… are you?"
She flipped her sword in her hand, eyeing the distant battlefield where new fights were breaking out. Her voice was calm but sharp — like her blade.
> "Name's Akari. If you don't stick together, you're dead. That's the rule here. I'm forming a party — and trust me, it's better than dying alone."
Her eyes settled on Tenma's broken blade. She didn't laugh. She didn't pity him. She just tilted her head, assessing him like a puzzle piece.
> "And you, weak sword or not — you're coming too. You got a death wish? Or are you gonna fight?"
Tenma blinked, his jaw throbbing, vision swimming — but somewhere deep inside, a single ember flickered. A question he hadn't asked himself before:
If I want to live… can I become strong?
He looked at Takumi — bruised, bleeding, but still shielding him.
He looked at the dead boy at Akari's feet — a reminder that mercy had no place here.
Tenma forced himself to nod, just once. His fingers found the chipped hilt of his useless sword again. No glow, no power — but it was all he had.
Akari's sharp smile returned. "Good. Then stay close."
She turned, leading them away from the blood-soaked tree and the growing chaos. For now, they had a single rule: stick together, or die alone.
Above them, the crimson sky seemed to pulse like a heartbeat — as if watching, waiting for the next hunt to begin.
---
To be continued…