The days passed quietly, as if time itself held its breath. Every morning, Haruki and Kuroda stood silently on the walls, watching the shifting fog. Like a breathing beast, it surged forward and back—retreating slowly whenever the bells tolled, but sometimes it seemed it wouldn't obey the sound for much longer.
"Look," Kuroda pointed one morning. "There he is. Gakurō."
Through the thick, gray swirling mist, a massive shadow moved. He didn't hurry. He didn't hide. He just strode forward, as if nothing could stand in his way.
"He's not rushing," Haruki said grimly. "And he doesn't need the fog like the others. He's… something else."
"On a different level," Kuroda nodded. "But if he steps out of the fog… maybe he becomes vulnerable. If we let it get close enough, maybe…"
"…maybe we can kill him," Haruki finished. "Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too."
For a moment, silence fell between them. The wind blew but did not disperse the fog. The demon swarm, silent in the absence of the bells, crept ever closer to the city.
"We need to talk to Kurotaka," Haruki finally said. "He knows what Gakurō is truly capable of."
Kurotaka's voice echoed immediately in Haruki's mind.
"You're mad if you think you can defeat him. Gakurō is the leader of the demons, not just a soldier. During the Dragon Wars, several dragons fell to his blade. The dragon sword will hurt him… but we don't know what Kuroda's sword can do. Maybe nothing."
"Maybe nothing," Haruki repeated aloud. "But if we don't try, we'll never know."
Kuroda gave a half-smile. "I think this is the most dangerous 'plan' I've heard from you so far."
"It's not a plan," Haruki shook his head. "Just a possibility. If it works, we get rid of Gakurō. Maybe the siege will fall apart without him. The demons seem to follow him."
"A leaderless army falls apart," Kuroda nodded. "But if it fails, then…"
"At least we tried," Haruki's voice was defiant, though fear lingered in his eyes. "This siege can't last forever. People are tired. The bells won't always keep every demon away. We have to do something."
Kurotaka sighed inside Haruki's mind.
"I won't stop you," he said at last. "But you should know: this won't be an ordinary fight. If Gakurō gets wounded, he will rage. He knows no mercy, no retreat. If you attack, you get one chance. And even then, survival isn't guaranteed."
"Then we'll try to do it right," Haruki replied. "Together. I'll wield both my swords at once, and Kuroda will watch his movements. If we can strike a weak point… maybe it'll be enough."
Kuroda a fog turned away and looked at Haruki.
"Are you sure you can do it? That you're capable… of killing such a creature?"
Haruki didn't answer right away. Memories swirled inside him: Daiki's death, Jinzou's sacrifice, the burning villages, the demon whispers. Finally, he answered quietly:
"I'm not sure. But I'm no longer afraid of the answers. And I won't let others suffer for me."
Kuroda nodded. "Then… when?"
Haruki glanced at the bell, still silent.
"When it falls silent. When the fog moves toward us again."
As the days passed, Haruki and Kuroda grew more familiar with the movements of the fog and Gakurō. Every day followed the same rhythm. The fog slowly advanced, swallowing the landscape, then when the bells tolled, it suddenly withdrew as if terrified by their sound. Only Gakurō did not change his pace. He was slow, measured, almost calm—and that was what made him terrifying.
"Did you notice?" Haruki asked one evening as they sat together at the foot of the city wall, at the edge of the thick darkness. "The bell's sound doesn't bother him. Only the fog moves back, and the lesser demons."
"Yes," Kuroda nodded, resting his hand on his sword. "Gakurō doesn't depend on the fog. He's strong enough without it."
"Then maybe… that's exactly why we have to act against him. Without the fog, he has no army either," Haruki said, looking into Kuroda's eyes. "Maybe then he's vulnerable."
Kuroda nodded.
"An attack… when he's alone. When the fog withdraws."
At that moment, Kurotaka's voice appeared in Haruki's mind.
"Wise thought… but dangerous. Remember, Gakurō is no ordinary demon. The dragon sword might hurt him… but we don't know what Kuroda's blade can do. And you two… you're only human."
Haruki sighed and answered quietly.
"If we don't try, we'll never know. And we can't hold the siege much longer. Waiting behind the walls isn't victory."
Kuroda stood up.
"Let's go to the commander. The plan won't work without him."
In the commander's room, a tired candle burned, and the man was studying a scroll when Haruki and Kuroda entered.
"What do you want so late?" he looked up suspiciously.
"An opportunity. A plan," Haruki said. "We need his help. The bell… must ring at a precise moment."
"The bell?" The man furrowed his brow. "That's dangerous. If it rings too late, the demons could get in! And… the hooded ones are already prowling inside the city, we've seen them!"
Kuroda stepped forward.
"But if we time it right, Gakurō will be alone. The fog will retreat, the demons will fall back, and we attack."
The commander shook his head.
"And if you fail? The fog floods in, the demons break through the gate… then the city will be lost!"
Haruki's voice was firm.
"The bell drives the demons away. It has always driven them away. It's just a matter of timing. And the hooded ones… they're already inside. The bell doesn't affect them. We have nothing to lose. Only a chance to gain."
The man sighed, his gaze weary, but he no longer opposed them. He just looked at the two young men standing before him, swords in hand, dust-covered, but determined.
"One try… is worth it," he finally said. "But I can't hesitate. I'm waiting for a single signal. If it doesn't come on time, I'll ring the bell."
"It will come," Haruki said.
"We'll wait at the edge of the fog," Kuroda added. "And when that moment comes, Gakurō will be alone. That will be our best chance."
The commander nodded slowly.
"Then so be it. But if you die… it could be the end for us all."
Haruki smiled, almost painfully.
"Or our beginning."
While the plan was being discussed, Rei was eavesdropping, then stepped over to Haruki and Kuroda.
"I'm coming with you," she said firmly.
Haruki looked at her, his face serious.
"Rei, you can't. Not just because of the danger... Daiki's death has already left its mark on the whole team, if you die too, I couldn't bear it. I don't want to lose anyone else."
Rei wouldn't give up.
"I understand you worry about me, but I'm not stepping aside. I have to prove I can hold my ground. I won't stay here doing nothing."
Haruki sighed, then gestured toward Jinzou.
"Go to him, at least he'll calm you down."
Jinzou appeared beside Rei, standing on the wall behind her, where they had a good view of the entire area.
"Since we'll be outside anyway," Jinzou said, "at least we can watch things from the wall. That way you'll be somewhat safer."
Haruki nodded, briefly relieved to see they wouldn't be completely alone.
"Alright, but just watch and don't get into trouble."
Rei and Jinzou looked at each other, both determined and ready for the next step.
The time had come.
The city gates were closed, the guards paced nervously on the walls, but below Haruki and Kuroda were already ready. This time the fog didn't stop at the edge of the fields—they let it creep closer, all the way to the outer defenses. The city watched silently. The bell remained quiet, but the commander stood beside it, rope in hand.
The fog rolled and swirled as if alive. And within it... there was Gakurō.
Haruki clenched the dragon sword tightly in his hand, a faint glow shimmering on the blade.
"There he is," Kuroda spoke quietly, his voice calm but deadly. "Right where he always is. Slow, but not weak."
"Now or never," Haruki replied, nodding toward the guards.
The commander understood the signal.
The bell tolled.
Its pure metallic sound pierced the morning silence. The fog dispersed as if torn apart by the wind, the dark silhouettes of demons vanished hastily into the distance.
Only Gakurō remained.
He stood alone in the field, back to the city, slowly stepping toward the retreating fog. It was as if he didn't even notice that he had been lured into a trap.
"Now!" Haruki moved forward, Kuroda following him.
The two warriors slipped silently out the gate. The battle's start was not loud—the grass whispered, their steps were steady, their swords still sheathed.
Then Gakurō stopped.
"You thought I didn't know what you were planning?" he growled in a deep voice, without turning around. "I smell the sharp scent of revenge on you."
Haruki said nothing. The dragon sword was drawn and immediately struck toward Gakurō.
Gakurō turned—huge, his shadow stretching long in the weak sunlight. Crocodile-like horns lined his head, his body covered with spikes and armor-like scales.
The blade hit his shoulder—and sparked. The dragon sword still wounded him.
Gakurō roared, swiping back with a massive paw; Haruki staggered backward.
"Now!" Kuroda shouted, slashing from the side. His sword also struck Gakurō, though it didn't cut as deep.
"That's… not enough!" the demon lord growled, then spun to strike down at Kuroda, who barely dodged but was still grazed on the chest.
Haruki jumped between them, the dragon sword glowing red as he attacked again—cutting Gakurō's belly, this time deeper.
"The sword… that cursed sword…" hissed Gakurō.
Kuroda moved behind the demon and struck with both hands. The blade stuck between the scales, but now the growl was audible—Gakurō felt the pain.
The battle turned brutal.
Gakurō breathed fire, the ground trembling beneath his feet. Haruki rolled aside like a boulder but kept his balance. Kuroda was already bleeding but didn't stop.
"Together!" Haruki yelled.
The two warriors attacked at once.
Haruki struck from above, aiming for the head, Kuroda from below, at the knees. Gakurō tried to defend but was too slow. The dragon sword pierced through his head while Kuroda's blade bit deeply into his leg.
The demon lord collapsed to his knees, his roar filling the field.
"Gakurō!" Haruki shouted, aiming the dragon sword at his neck. "This is for all you destroyed!"
The blade glowed red, then with one decisive strike, Haruki cut off the demon's head. Gakurō's body cracked loudly, then fell forward to the ground—but it did not crumble or fade away like the other demons.
Silence fell.
Haruki knelt down, panting, while Kuroda stepped beside him holding his bleeding arm.
"Is that it?" he asked quietly.
"Yes…" Haruki looked down at the monster's body. "But something's wrong with him. Look… he's not disappearing."
Kuroda bent down, touched the scaly shoulder, then nodded.
"Indeed. This is no ordinary demon. This… is flesh and blood. Real. Maybe he shed the shadow form long ago."
The two warriors silently watched the corpse lying there, a mixture of dignity and terror. Haruki's gaze fell on the severed head, where the frozen light of hatred still shimmered.
"He won't just disappear… He doesn't deserve mercy."
"What shall we do with him?" Kuroda asked.
Haruki stood up and quietly said only this:
"Let's nail him to the city wall. Let them see that the nightmare is over. Let them know that what he did to the people… we've now turned it back on him."
Kuroda nodded silently. Together they carried the body back—but only the head was mounted on the wall. There, where Gakurō once gathered bones, the people now saw his own head: a warning to those still serving the darkness.
The city celebrated, but Haruki's eyes still looked toward the forest.
The fog swirled in the distance.
Akumaru sat in the dark chamber, his eyes glowing with a fiery red light. The news of Gakurō's death still echoed on the walls, and a cold, merciless smile appeared on the demon lord's face.
"Gakurō has fallen... but there will be consequences. I will be the flame of vengeance that consumes all who dared to rise against him."
He raised his hand, and black mist swirled in the air, slowly forming into a shadow that heralded the coming destruction.
"The game is only just beginning."