Hikari no Hiro Part 2:
Years had passed since the great sealing. The world had known peace, and the names of Xzavier Shishiroma, Levine Shishiroma, Zadie, Mizuki, and others echoed like sacred scripture across the lands. Cities once devastated by war now bloomed with greenery, music, and laughter. The Legendary Blades were sealed, their islands thriving under the protection of clans sworn to peace. The age of wrath was over—or so they believed.
But far beneath the Sacred Mountain, time moved differently.
Yagumi's body remained bound in chains forged from celestial energy, his soul drifting between rage and regret. Inside him, Gimori whispered like a leeching wind. The monstrous being's voice never ceased, pouring venom into every waking thought. But Yagumi had changed—he had tasted humanity again in Mizuki's tears, in the feel of her arms around him. He remembered what it meant to be a person.
So when Gimori offered him freedom in exchange for his soul, Yagumi did something unexpected.
He refused.
"You still crave destruction, and I no longer care for it," Yagumi muttered, turning away in disgust. "I'd rather rot here than see the world burn again."
Gimori's chuckle was cold and low. "Then rot you shall."
Without warning, the demon lord's Aku no Eye ignited like a black star. Shadows exploded from within Yagumi's chest. Flesh tore apart in a flash of agony. Yagumi screamed—not in rage, but in betrayal—as Gimori clawed his way out of his body, his rebirth heralded by black flame and the sound of breaking seals.
Gimori's new form stood tall and unnaturally elegant. His skin was pale like bone ash, almost translucent, while his long, jet-black hair fell in tangled ropes over his shoulders, tied back with Yagumi's black headband. His eyes—those dreadful Aku no Eyes—glowed blood-red with layered concentric rings of abyssal power, and from his back unfurled four skeletal wings made of shadowy bone. His body was covered in intricate black sigils that seemed to writhe and change with each heartbeat.
He laughed—a laugh that cracked the silence of the sacred mountain. He donned Yagumi's clothes: the sleeveless black vest, white pants, and no footwear, letting the earth feel his wrath once more. Now clothed, he leapt into the sky with a single flap of his wings, soaring toward Demon Island.
Once there, he descended upon the ancient Demon Wolf, guardian of the cursed Demon Blade. Possessing the creature was easy; it recognized the soul it once served. Gimori tore the blade from the shrine and claimed it anew.
But he wasn't done.
He traveled next to Titan Island, where the colossal Wolf of Might, guardian of the Titan Blade, awaited him. What followed was one of the most terrifying battles since the sealing war. Gimori fought like a dark god, shattering the beast's jaw, tearing through its defenses. After an hour-long clash that split the island itself, Gimori stood victorious, bathed in divine blood. He seized the Titan Blade and merged it with the Demon Blade through forbidden dark alchemy.
The Darkness Blade was born—an amalgam of power so immense it bent the atmosphere around it. Using it, Gimori sent out corrupting pulses across the world. One by one, the Legendary Blades were torn from their resting places, warped and twisted until they bent to his will.
Each Elemental Wolf, their bond to their blade severed and corrupted, fell under Gimori's control. He reshaped them into human forms, twisted and fanatical, rebuilding his once-defeated cult: Dawn's Awakening.
But one wolf survived.
Jiyū, battered and bloody, limped across oceans and ravaged skies, carrying the Flame Blade and Shadow Blade in his mouth. He arrived at a crumbling hut on Flame Island, where two legendary warriors—Xzavier and Levine Shishiroma—held off feral beasts unleashed by the corrupted blades. Jiyū collapsed at their feet, panting.
"He… has returned…" Jiyū gasped, laying the two blades before them. "Titan… Demon… both corrupted… the others… twisted… I failed…"
Levine knelt beside the great wolf and stroked his blood-matted fur. "You did more than anyone could've asked, old friend."
"I need…" Jiyū coughed. "A bit of your blood."
Without hesitation, Xzavier and Levine each offered a cut of their palms. Jiyū licked their hands, and with his final breath, his body ignited into golden flame, transforming into two radiant Energy Blades, each imbued with celestial essence drawn from the Shishiroma brothers themselves.
"I beg of you… end Gimori…" were his last words.
Just then, Yagumi, bruised, bleeding, and barely able to walk, limped out from the shadows behind the hut, clutching the Grim Reaper Blades. His face was pale, his breathing shallow, but in his eyes burned a familiar fury.
Xzavier stood, tense. "You're alive."
"I've been crawling since Demon Island," Yagumi growled, coughing blood. "You're lucky I hate Gimori more than I hate you."
Levine frowned. "So you're here to help?"
"Temporarily," Yagumi muttered. "Once Gimori's dead, I'm settling the score with you, Xzavier."
Xzavier nodded solemnly. "Then let's finish this together."
The three warriors approached the fallen blades.
Xzavier picked up the Flame Blade and one of the Energy Blades—his aura flaring in divine hues.
Levine took the Shadow Blade and the second Energy Blade, his calm intensity surging.
Yagumi held the Reaper Blades tighter, his dark hair blowing in the burning wind.
And together—for the first time—they stood side by side.
The world shuddered. Dark clouds twisted over the horizon. The reborn Dawn's Awakening was on the move.
But so were the final heroes.
And as the flames danced behind them, and the wind howled with the call of destiny, the second war to decide the fate of Eidolon began.