The pact was done.
The runes had faded. The chamber had cooled. And Shinomiya, ever the tactician, wasted no time.
"You two are partners now," she said, arms crossed, her tone clipped. "Effective immediately."
Azael smiled, clearly pleased. "Oh, how romantic."
Shigen blinked. "Is it?"
Shinomiya ignored them both. "You'll be joined by one more. A new recruit. B-rank. Stone-type cultivator. Name's Shoto."
She turned to Shigen, her expression tightening into a scowl. "You better make sure this one lives."
Shigen stared at her, face unreadable. "No promises."
---
Later That Day – Training Grounds
The sun was low, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. Shigen stood off to the side, arms folded, watching as the new guy approached.
Shoto was tall, broad-shouldered, with a jagged scar across his jaw and a permanent scowl etched into his face. His aura was dense—like standing next to a mountain that might decide to fall on you.
He stopped a few feet from them, eyeing Azael with immediate distaste.
"So," he said, voice gravelly. "This the demon?"
Azael tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "And you must be the pebble."
Shoto snorted. "Cute. You look like a cursed mannequin someone tried to dress up as a dominatrix."
Azael's smile widened. "Insulting me won't make you any less insignificant, little rock. Compared to my Shigen, you're barely a mineral."
Shoto raised an eyebrow. "If you were the last fuckable thing on Earth, I'd cut off my dick and marry a cactus."
Shinomiya, standing nearby, let out a soft, unexpected laugh. It was brief—barely a breath—but it cracked the frost around her usual composure. She cleared her throat and straightened her coat.
"Enough," she said. "You're teammates now. Try not to kill each other before the mission starts."
Shigen stood silently, watching the exchange. He wasn't sure if it was funny. He wasn't sure if anything was funny anymore.
He tried to smile.
Nothing moved.
He tried to laugh.
Nothing came.
Azael glanced at him, sensing the shift. Her smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something unreadable. Then she turned back to Shoto.
"Well," she said, brushing imaginary dust from her shoulder. "This will be fun."
Shoto cracked his knuckles. "Yeah. A real party."
Shinomiya sighed. "God help me."
Shigen just stared at the sky, wondering if his heart—wherever it was now—would ever beat again.
Shinomiya's boots echoed across the stone floor as she paced in front of us, her frost-laced aura sharp enough to cut steel.
"There's a village," she said. "South of the ridge. Constant raids. Survivors claim it's the work of the Black Vatrint."
Shoto frowned. "That cult still exists?"
"They do," Shinomiya replied. "And they've grown bolder. Worshippers of the Devil. Ritualists. Summoners. If they're active again, it means something's stirring."
She turned to Shigen, her eyes cold and piercing. "Listen carefully. If you engage an S-rank enemy or a demon above Calamity class—and you survive while your teammates don't—I'll kill you myself."
Shigen blinked. "That's fair."
Shoto scoffed. "With the aura I'm sensing from you, you're not strong enough to lead."
Azael chuckled, her voice smooth and venomous. "Ignorance is such a loud perfume. You reek of it."
Shoto rolled his eyes. "Keep talking, shadow puppet."
Shinomiya raised a hand. "Enough. You leave at dawn. Keep it clean. Keep it quiet. And for the love of Yen—don't make me regret this."
---
Later – Village Outskirts
The village was quiet. Too quiet.
The air was thick with tension, the kind that clings to your skin like smoke. Burnt offerings still smoldered in the corners of the streets. Symbols of the Devil etched into walls, doors, even livestock.
We found a small inn—barely standing. One room. Three bodies.
Shigen dropped onto the bed without a word, arms behind his head, eyes on the cracked ceiling.
"Shoto," he said. "Newbie watches first."
Shoto grunted. "Figures."
Azael stood by the window, her eyes scanning the dark horizon. Then, without a word, she turned and walked over to Shigen.
She climbed onto the bed, straddling him with slow, deliberate grace. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, her touch warm, almost reverent.
Shigen didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't even blink.
Azael leaned down, her lips near his ear. "You're colder than I expected."
He stared at the ceiling. "I'm not sure if I'm even here."
She smiled softly, her fingers pausing over where his heart used to beat. "You are. Just… differently."
Shoto glanced over, scoffing. "You two done with the demon foreplay?"
Azael turned her head, still seated on Shigen. "Jealous?"
"Disgusted."
Shigen finally spoke, voice flat. "You're both loud."
Azael laughed, low and melodic.
Shigen didn't.
Not even a smirk.
Just silence.
And somewhere outside, in the shadows of the village, the Black Vatrint watched.
[End of Chapter Six]