"coo-coo."
A white pigeon glides gracefully across the vibrant landscape of the realm of Mitti, one of the seven realms. In this vast world lies Higashihara, an eastern country defined by its majestic mountains and fertile river valleys that shape the lives of its inhabitants.
In that very same country, deep within the ancient forest of El Verde, a small wooden cabin stands sentinel amidst towering trees that whisper secrets of a forgotten age.
Inside this rustic sanctuary, Felix lies asleep, his dreams pulling him back to a past he desperately tries to escape. The cabin is dimly lit by the soft glow of an oil lamp, casting flickering shadows.
While Felix is oblivious to the outside world, his dream drifts him back to the city he has long escaped from. A location that used to be bright and sunny, now lost to darkness and hopelessness.
A choking smoke lingers in the air, wrapping around him in the form of spiraling clouds.
"NOOOOOO!"
"Please some one help us!"
"Ahhhhhh!"
From deep narrow streets come curses of the suffering, fitting together in a haunting symphony of loss.
Felix runs through the chaos, his breath shallow, heart pounding in terror. His feet slip on shards of glass, but he doesn’t care. He has to keep moving, has to escape.
[Boom]
"No! No! Why is this happening?"
"Why? Why?" he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice.
"Father!" he shouts into the void.
"Why you father?"
Buildings loom overhead like giants, their walls scarred and crumbling. Flickering flames dance in shattered windows, casting eerie shadows that stretch and twist as if alive.
[Clatter]
The ground beneath him is slick with debris—broken glass, splintered wood, and crumbled stone—each step a reminder of the destruction that surrounds him.
[THUD]
Suddenly, a woman's desperate grip catches his leg, causing him to fall. Felix looks down to see her body engulfed in flames, her skin blistering and blackening before his eyes. She delivers a haunting message that pierces through the din of chaos:
"You..." she mutters, her voice barely audible above the crackling flames.
"No," Felix manages to whisper, his voice trembling.
"Your fate has led to our doom!” she shouts at him.
[BAM]
Felix's eyes snap open at the loud noise, his heart racing in his chest. He sits up in his small wooden bed, the familiar scent of pine and earth grounding him in reality.
The space within the cabin is limited and the furnishings are minimal. A single wooden bed, its frame worn smooth from years of use, occupies one corner. The absence of a mattress speaks volumes about Felix's spartan lifestyle.
In another corner, a rickety table supports a small oil lamp, its flame flickering weakly against the encroaching darkness. There is one chair, which has been polished to a smooth finish through countless sessions of sitting, next to the table.
The remnants of his nightmare cling to him, images of the burning city and desperate faces still vivid in his mind.
"What was that?" he mutters, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
The rough floorboards are cool beneath his bare feet, their uneven surface digging into his soles.
"It sounded like an explosion... or was it my imagination?" he wonders aloud.
He pulls on his old boots, their leather cracked and worn. The boots barely fit, pinching his toes and rubbing against his heels.
"I need to check what that sound was."
Rough-hewn logs form the walls, their gaps meticulously stuffed with moss and clay to keep out the biting wind.
There are no windows, which contributes to a feeling of claustrophobia that exacerbates the sense of seclusion and with each gust of wind, the entire structure groans and creaks ominously, as if threatening to collapse at any moment.
Felix yanked open the creaky cabin door and stepped outside. The cool morning air hit his face as he scanned the dense canopy of El Verde forest. Tall ferns brushed against his legs as he moved swiftly through the trees.
As he approached the source of the disturbance, Felix's eyes widened in amazement. A dark circle marred the forest floor, at least ten feet wide, its edges still smoking.
The earth around it was scorched black, and the acrid smell of burnt vegetation filled the air. It didn't look like the result of an explosion.
Near it stood a woman who commanded Felix's attention. Her tan skin seemed to glow in the filtered sunlight, and her long black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders like a silk curtain.
Her piercing black eyes seemed to absorb the surrounding light, deep and unfathomable as the night sky.
She wore a soft white kimono overlaid with a haori, the fabric so fine it seemed to shimmer with every movement. A striking red Kalanchoe flower emblem adorned her back, its vibrant hue a stark contrast to the muted colors of the forest.
Beside her stood several men dressed in black kimonos bearing the same emblem, their postures tense and alert. Their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, ready to draw at a moment's notice.
In front of them loomed a group clad in dark cloaks, their faces obscured by red oni masks that seemed to leer menacingly. The masks were intricately carved, each one unique, with exaggerated features that twisted into grotesque expressions.
"I've never seen these people before," he thought, his mind racing with possibilities.
Felix stood behind a large tree, its bark rough against his palm as he peered around the trunk. His other hand rested on his hip, fingers drumming against his thigh.
His eyes scanned the assembled group and the surrounding area, taking in every detail. He spotted some small, triangular metallic objects near the edge of the circle—items that might hold significance in this unfolding drama.
"Interesting," he whispered, the word barely audible even to himself.
The air was thick with tension as he sensed a great Zor energy radiating from the group, but the woman stood out, exuding a calm and commanding aura. He recognized her strength and opted to remain hidden, hoping to glean more about the situation.
"Today is the day you die. The Yotsuba clan ends here," he said.
One of the oni men stepped forward. His voice, though low, carried clearly through the still air as he addressed the woman.
"That is why you were summoned here by the teleportation ritual."
Felix's brow furrowed in confusion.
"What is the teleportation ritual?"
He had never encountered that term before. The metallic triangular pieces surrounding the circle’s edge might be linked to this so-called ritual; after all, teleportation could not be performed using ordinary Zor energy techniques.
The declaration hung in the air for a moment before chaos erupted. The woman stepped forward, her movements fluid and purposeful.
She unsheathed her katanas, their silver tsuka gleaming in the filtered sunlight. The blades caught the light, revealing edges as sharp as a winter's frost.
In a blur of motion, she launched herself at her attackers. Her strikes were precise and deadly, slicing through her foes with such fluidity that the oni-masked assailants were unable to react.
Delivering a critical strike with deadly precision, she took Felix's breath away. The forest floor, once carpeted with moss and fallen leaves, was now stained crimson.
Felix observes, mesmerized by the cold efficiency with which she dispatches the masked figures. Her movements make him realize,
"She must have trained endlessly in swordsmanship."
The woman stood tall amidst the carnage, her crimson robes contrasting with the greenery. Her eyes were cold and unyielding.
Even her own men appear uneasy. One of them stammers,
"Pardon my intrusion, m'lady, but we could have handled this mess without your intervention."
Her sharp glance sends a shiver through him, leaving him visibly trembling.
"Those who disrespect the Yotsuba shall perish," she replies, her voice echoing chillingly with authority.
Felix watched from afar, impressed.
"I haven't seen someone that strong in a while," he thought.
"I wonder how I'd fare against her?"
Suddenly, the woman's gaze snapped towards him.
"How long do you plan to watch me?"
"She really is something else," a mix of surprise and admiration floods through Felix.
"There's no point in hiding anymore, I guess."
He steps into view. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood, and a heavy silence hangs over the scene, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.
The woman sees a man with long black hair that hadn't been cut in years—and fell around his face in unkempt waves. He had red eyes, contrasting sharply with his long and narrow nose. He wore a white shirt—half-tucked and rolled at the sleeves—stained with dirt; his navy blue pants bore similar marks of survival.
"Who are you?" she asks, suspicion etching her features.
Felix holds her gaze with a serious expression, unwavering. His voice is firm and resolute as he speaks.
"Please leave," he says simply, hoping his tone conveys the gravity of the situation.
The air thickens with tension as she tightens her grip on her katanas, her brow furrowing. A thought flickers in her mind:
"He is not attacking, and I do not sense bloodlust from him. He must be an informer, reporting this to his master."
"I should let him go. Let him inform whoever seeks to destroy the Yotsuba clan that I am not to be trifled with."
"I hope she understands," Felix thought.
Almost imperceptibly, her posture relaxed. With fluid grace, the woman sheathed her katanas in their saya. As she prepared to depart, she fixed Felix with one last menacing stare.
"Remember this well," she said, her voice low and threatening.
"I am Miku Yotsuba, leader of the Yotsuba clan. Pray you never see me again, or you may not live to see another day."
As she utters these words, she studies Felix's face intently.
"Even after witnessing this carnage and hearing my warning," Miku thought as she observed Felix’s calm demeanor, "I still don’t see an ounce of fear in this man’s eyes."
"This man is indeed a fool," she concluded.
Miku and her men melted back into the forest while Felix remained rooted to the spot, his mind reeling from the encounter. He knew with certainty that his peaceful life in El Verde would never be the same again.
He moved to collect the metallic triangular objects scattered on the ground—five in total, one in the center and the other four at the edges.
High atop a mountain peak, an unseen informer crouched among the jagged rocks, clad in a kasa and bandana. The crisp mountain air nipped at his exposed skin as he peered through a lightweight telescope, dark brown eyes scanning the lush landscape below.
His gaze fell upon Felix as he picked up something from the ground, and he watched as Miku Yotsuba departed the scene moments before. The observer had seen everything—the woman’s swift handling of the oni-masked assassins and her tense interaction with a tall man with long black hair and piercing red eyes.
"I guess they failed," the informer whispered.
"But I couldn't hear what they talked about."
Unable to discern the details of their conversation, he scribbled furiously on a scrap of parchment. His quill scratched across the rough surface, detailing the elimination of the oni-masked figures and making special note of the mysterious man, speculating on his potential threat due to possible ties with the Yotsuba clan. He noted that the man now possessed artifacts created by Tony Shelby.
The observer completes his note. He carefully rolls the parchment and secures it to the leg of a waiting bird. With a soft whistle, he sends the bird soaring across the vast landscape, its wings cutting through the thin mountain air.
"Cuckoo," the bird calls out as it disappears into the distance.
As the bird vanishes from sight, the informer begins his careful descent, leaving no trace of his presence on the windswept peak.
Meanwhile, Felix buried the oni-masked men in the forest, taking an hour to complete the grim task. He then decided to return to his small, dimly lit cabin nestled deep within the woods. As he approached, the weathered structure came into view, its rough-hewn wooden walls barely holding back the encroaching wilderness.
He opened the door and locked it with a heavy rock, then scrambled to gather his belongings—a thin blanket, some apples and berries he had picked, and a wooden base with a spindle.
The sagging roof and creaking floorboards bore witness to the structure's weakened state as the sun began to set. He moves through the confined room
"I think I have lived here long enough," Felix acknowledges the unease that lingers at the edges of his mind. Yet he remains composed, recognizing that Miku and her associates are already aware of his presence in this secluded area.
This understanding settles within him not as a burden, but as an acknowledgment of reality—an unwavering stone in his chest that fortifies his resolve.
"They might investigate me further, and if they discover anything, they could try to kill me. I need to be ready," he thought, preparing himself to respond appropriately to whatever circumstances might arise.
The small cabin's dimensions reflected his current situation.
"There was no mistaking it," Felix mused.
"The Yotsuba clan—one of the noble clans among Higashihara that I've heard so much about."
"That means if I confront her, I could provoke the other clans," he considered calmly.
"I need to focus on what is within my control; my only option is to get out of Higashihara as soon as possible," he concluded.
He longed for peace, desperately wishing to keep his identity hidden from the world outside.
As Felix collected his knapsack crafted from light wood and plant fibers, a dark voice echoed in his mind:
"If you kill every single one of them—and even the emperor—that will grant you the peace you desire." It whispered seductively in Felix's head.
His hands began to tremble at this thought.
[Drip-drop]
Suddenly, rain began to patter outside. A vivid memory triggered in Felix's mind—a blurry vision of his dying father, blood pooling around him on the worn marble floor of their old home. His father's words struck him with thunderous force:
"Felix, my son, promise me this: never take an innocent life or cause harm. Protect others, help those in need, face dangers with unyielding strength, and live life without regrets."
Tears brim in Felix's eyes as he whispers, "Yes, I promise. The fate that struck us then will never strike me again, Father.”
With a determined breath, he wipes away his tears and steels himself. Gripping his knapsack, he lifts it, preparing to flee.
But a heavy knock interrupts him, followed by a deep, ominous voice that seems to seep through the cracks of the cabin walls.
"Despair...has...arrived...at...your...door."
Silence follows, broken only by the steady patter of rain against the roof.
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