CHAPTER 31: THE FIRST DISASTER (1)

Hikari.

Standing behind us. Frozen. Her glistening eyes in the pale moonlight stared at me, wide, trembling. Her cheeks were scarlet, her breath too short, almost wheezing. I followed her gaze... and the shock cut through me like an icy blade.

Her kimono, half-open, slid down her pale thighs. And between her legs... fuck. It glistened. Her pussy was dripping. Her thighs were soaked with juices, down to her knees, and the moonlight reflected off the wetness as if she had pissed herself. But no. Not that.

Had she been touching herself while we were fucking?! Really?

My stomach tightened all at once. My whole body screamed with filthy, primal excitement. And at the same time, my head hammered: fuck, no, not that, not her, not now.

Miyu’s voice slapped me:

— "Hikari?!"

I jolted. Miyu had just turned her head toward her. Her eyes widened, and immediately she shoved me violently away. Her body, still sticky, lifted up, her hands scrambling to cover her heavy breasts, her cunt dripping with cum. As if that could erase the obvious. As if her sister hadn’t seen anything.

I wanted to speak. To say something. But my throat locked. The silence was grotesque, while three truths crashed together in my skull: Miyu naked, drenched in sperm; Hikari, her thighs streaming with juices; and me, in the middle, cock still hard, unable to move.

Then everything exploded at once. Hikari spun on her heel. She bolted into the shadows, her steps slapping against the dirt, her kimono flapping. All I saw was the wet trail down her legs, mark of her shameful flight.

Miyu almost screamed, her voice shaking:

— "We have to catch her!!"

Her hands clutched my shoulders, her panicked gaze digging into mine.

— "Why aren’t you reacting, Kaito?! She saw us together! Do you understand what that means?!"

Her nails dug into my skin. She shook me like a madwoman. Me, I tried to stay upright, not let my panic explode.

— "Don’t worry..." My voice was hoarse, broken. "I’ll talk to her. I know her. You know how she is... she won’t say anything."

A half-lie. Because I knew, yes, she wouldn’t talk. Not out of shyness. But because she had already crossed the line with me. She knew. She carried the same secret too.

Miyu, panting, finally loosened her grip. Her lips trembled.

— "... It’s true. She never brings up this kind of subject. Not unless someone forces her."

I nodded. I stood, picking my kimono up from the dust. My fingers trembled as I folded the fabric back over my still damp skin.

— "Get dressed. And let’s go." I lifted my eyes to her. The moon bathed her sweaty face, her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips. I felt dizzy staring at her. "Anyway... Miyu... I really enjoyed this moment with you."

I seized her, kissed her. Our mouths clashed, our tongues twisted together, and a long string of spit bound us when I pulled away. Before me, she wasn’t just the insolent sister anymore. She was a woman. A woman in love, blushing, staring at me with a calm intensity.

I exhaled, my voice rasping:

— "Let’s go, Miyu."

And in my throat, a thought already rotted: Fuck, Hikari... what are you going to do now?

~~

The next morning, the silence of the fortress felt almost strange.

The first morning without a briefing at HQ, without Albrecht or Maeron barking at us. Just the sound of hammers and shovels, stones being moved, planks hastily nailed into place. No battle orders, no blaring horn. Only that raw sound: Duskfall trying to stitch itself back together.

I ran my hand over the cracked wall beside our quarters. The stone still vibrated, as if it remembered the demons’ impact. A sigh escaped me. Yeah, we had survived... but fuck, at what price.

I settled in a cleared corner, laying Aurelia against the wall. My body still screamed, but I knew I had to start again. The war had taught me that every second mattered. Every breath could make the difference. So I sat cross-legged, closed my eyes, and let the mana seep in, shiver against my skin.

A creak of a door. Soft footsteps. And her voice.

— "You haven’t changed. Always the first to sweat in the morning."

I opened my eyes. Elyra. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, poorly tied. Her armor was unfastened, revealing the start of her cleavage, and her smile had that predatory edge that usually twisted my gut.

— "Good morning to you too..." I breathed, unable to hold back a smile. "I thought heroes were allowed to sleep after surviving hell."

She shrugged, stepped closer. Her shadow covered my face.

— "And miss the look on your face when you pretend to meditate? No way."

I rolled my eyes, but my gaze slid despite me. Her arm. Whole. Not a piece missing. Yet I remembered the moment Sarhael sliced it clean off, the scream she had let out. I swallowed hard.

— "I’m glad we managed to heal you in time," I said softly. "That you got it back."

Her smile changed. Softer. More human. She crouched in one fluid move and hugged me without warning. Her warm, damp body pressed against my chest, and my hands slid instinctively to her hips. I felt her breath tremble for a second.

— "And I’m really glad you survived this war, Kaito."

Her lips brushed my ear, a murmur slicing through me like a blade. My heart hammered, too hard. I realized I was breathing her scent — sweat, steel, a trace of dried blood. Nothing clean. But fuck, it smelled like survival.

I wanted to reply, but she pulled back abruptly, as if she feared she had wound the tension too tight at the wrong time. Her tone snapped back to its usual hardness:

— "Enough sentimentality. We’ve been summoned. Follow me."

I froze a moment, breath short, still marked by the heat of her body against mine. Then I picked up Aurelia, grumbling silently.

Summoned, huh? After everything we’d just gone through, I had not a single fucking doubt: it never meant anything good.

I followed her through the stone hallway, her armor clinking softly, her hips swaying in front of me. And despite myself, my eyes clung to her silhouette. Wounded, healed, alive. Too alive.

The hall already waited for us, vast, dim, stones blackened by torches that dripped moisture. Elyra walked ahead of me, head high, as if yesterday’s war had left no trace on her back. Me, I couldn’t erase the feeling that everything still vibrated under my steps — the floor, my guts, my memories.

They were all there. The Spartan, standing like a rock, two men at his sides. Albrecht, straight as a blade, the old mage still reeking of dust, the archer lingering behind. And then them. Hikari. Miyu. Ayame. Reina.

I swallowed, forcing a smile.

— "Good morning, everyone."

Greetings answered me, polite, neutral. But my gaze had already slipped toward Hikari. She turned her eyes away at once, too quickly, as if she had never had a reason to look at me. Her face was calm, almost cold, but I wasn’t fooled. I still saw her from last night, thighs drenched, fingers clenched between her legs. She was pretending nothing had happened. As if I had dreamed it. And maybe she preferred it stayed that way, buried in the mud with Duskfall’s corpses.

A throat cleared, yanking me out of my thoughts. The Spartan stepped forward, and his voice rang like an anvil.

— "Good. Now that everyone is here... I’ll introduce myself for those who don’t know me."

He measured us one by one, his eyes like blades.

— "I am Reinardht von Skulion. Member of the royal guard. One of only three humans to ever receive an S-rank blessing outside of you heroes."

A murmur passed through the room. Even I felt my shoulders tense. S-rank... not something you bumped into in the street.

— "Charmed," Reina snapped, dry as always.

Miyu chuckled.

He didn’t flinch. Just a thin smile, more threatening than friendly.

— "Let’s get straight to the point. The demon you saw, the one who dragged Sarhael back into a portal, is no mere soldier. His name is Oratius. He’s one of the new pillars of the Demon King. Not a Primordial... but just as devastating, whether on a battlefield or behind a map. His power, you saw it: teleportation. Himself, his troops, entire armies."

A shiver ran down my spine. So that was it. The army from nowhere. The intercepted crow. Everything.

Reinhardt continued, graver still:

— "I’m telling you to warn you. Oratius is not just a fighter. He’s a strategist. Every move you think unpredictable... he’s already accounted for."

The silence pressed down, heavy as a vise. The Spartan’s grave voice broke the air:

— "The heroes are not safe. Several have already been attacked."

Miyu started, her fiery gaze locked on his.

— "Wait... other heroes?! You mean there are others besides us?"

Reinhardt nodded slowly, implacable.

— "Yes. Every nation has summoned its champions. Four per people: humans, elves, dwarves, dragons. You are not the only ones bearing this burden."

A chill crawled up my spine. Fuck. We weren’t the heroes... just pieces on a giant chessboard.

The Spartan went on, lower, as if carving each word in stone:

— "But already, there are losses. The dwarves have lost two of their heroes. The elves were attacked as well, and one of theirs has fallen."

Miyu’s breath caught, her fingers tightening on her katana.

— "What?! Three dead... already?!"

Her words cracked through the room like a slap. And me, my stomach twisted, not knowing if I should feel lucky... or just doomed, waiting our turn.

The room choked. My gut clenched. Hikari covered her mouth, eyes glistening. Reina just pursed her lips, but her fingers whitened on her staff.

Reinhardt cut in with a sharp gesture.

— "Exactly. The dwarves’ losses warned me. No more communication. I followed your trail. And I realized you were in danger too."

His eyes stabbed into mine.

— "You survived Sarhael. Several lieutenants. It’s a miracle. And that’s why I’m here."

I swallowed hard. A miracle... or a curse. I still felt Sarhael’s laughter scraping my ears.

The Spartan resumed, harsher, like he wanted to end the matter:

— "With the other nations, we have decided not to repeat the same mistakes. An academy will open. Not only to train you physically, but also mentally, magically, strategically. After the ceremony for Duskfall’s dead... you will leave for the land of Dragons."

I froze. A new place. Another battlefield, disguised as a school.

Beside me, Miyu nearly spat:

— "An academy, huh? Great. Just great..."

Ayame stayed firm, her voice steadier:

— "Maybe that’s what we need. A place to learn not to die in the first assault."

Her gaze caught mine. Her brown eyes shone with quiet hardness, but I saw what hid behind it. The shadow of a fear she wouldn’t admit.

Then Ayame, suddenly, her face tightened. Her hand shot to her temple, fingers trembling as if an invisible blade stabbed into her skull. I shot up, worried. She gasped a moment, her eyes rolling, then her stare locked into the void.

When she finally raised her head, her face was no longer the one I knew. No more softness, no more maternal calm. Her brown eyes gleamed with merciless hardness, almost inhuman. Her voice cracked like a sentence:

— "The village..."

I swallowed, gut knotted.

— "... What?"

She ignored me, lips trembling but tone unyielding:

— "The village... quickly! We must go. Now!"

A slap in my chest. The village. The one with the little girl, the one of our first true miracle, where we had saved lives instead of taking them. My legs moved on their own.

I bolted out of the hall, breath already short. Behind me, I heard Miyu scream she was coming, Hikari still trembling wiping her mouth, Reina gripping her staff. Reinhardt and his two men thundered at our backs.

We tore out of Duskfall. The world around me blurred into stone and wind. Our bodies weren’t the same anymore after the war. Our levels had soared. Our muscles responded like never before. Where a full day would have been needed, we devoured the road in barely an hour, tearing through the earth like enraged beasts.

And then the smell.

Smoke. Burnt flesh.

When the trees finally parted, my heart froze.

The village. The one we had saved. The one where the children laughed chasing after Hikari, where the jars of fresh water overflowed, where the bread soup steamed each night in thin bowls...

It was nothing but a dead brazier. A slaughterhouse.

The houses we had helped rebuild lay half-collapsed, blackened by fire, beams charred and twisted like broken bones. The furrows we had planted with miracle seeds were only overturned lines of earth, smeared with blood. Where pure water had flowed, only a blackish trickle remained, carrying ashes and scraps of flesh.

And on the ground... the bodies.

Men cut clean, guts spilled as if the earth itself had vomited their lives back. Women frozen mid-scream, lips open on a horror that would never fade, skin blackened by flames, clinging to their bones like human torches. But the worst... were the children.

Some still clutching broken bowls in their hands, as if trying to protect the soup we had given them. Others, smaller, twisted into impossible postures, eyes bulging, frozen in the terror of their last flight. The stench of charred flesh mixed with the acid tang of dried blood and cold ashes.

My breath shattered.

No. Not here. Not them. Not the ones we had saved...

Hikari collapsed to her knees, her reddened eyes blown wide by the nightmare. Her hand trembled against her mouth, but the guttural cry tore out anyway. She vomited onto the burned earth, wracked by sobs, her face streaked with tears and bile. Her frail shoulders shook like leaves in a storm.

Miyu screamed, raw rage shredding the air like a blade. Her katana shook, her flames spitting a crimson light.

— "THOSE FUCKERS... I’LL BURN THEM ALL!"

Her eyes blazed with a fury I had never seen. Her breath hissed, every word spat like a vow of murder.

Reina stayed still. Frozen like an ice statue. But her fingers clenched her staff so hard shards of frost burst despite her, crawling over the ground and coating the corpses with a thin white layer. As if she wanted to hide the horror from her own eyes. Her teeth clenched, so tight I thought I heard her jaw crack.

And me... I saw only her absence. The little girl. The one who had handed me her bowl with a smile, swearing she’d become a hero. I searched for her body among the ashes... but it wasn’t there.

A rattle broke the silence. A woman lay half-dead against a collapsed beam, body torn, skin burned, breath wheezing. Hikari, trembling, crawled to her, hands slick with tears pressed on the wound. Her voice cracked through healing incantations.

The woman opened her eyes, cracked lips coughing blood that splattered my sleeve. Her skeletal hand clutched me like a rope at the edge of the abyss.

— "They... they took her..." Her voice was raspy, trembling. "The little one... to the city... to make an example..."

She spat a scarlet thread, her eyes rolling back, but forced on, pleading:

— "They’ll torture her... publicly... please... she doesn’t deserve that..."

Her gaze dimmed almost instantly, drowned in agony.

I froze. Blood hammered in my temples. Around me, the world shrank, every sound muffled. The air vibrated, thick with mana, as if even the sky remembered the miracle we had wrought here... and how it had been defiled.

I saw her laugh again. Her eyes shining as she thanked me for a bowl of soup. Her thin legs running despite her hunger. Her clear voice swearing she’d be a hero.

And now... she wasn’t here. Not because she had been spared. But because they had taken her.

My teeth clenched so hard my jaw cracked.

There was no reason left to hold anything back.