The ground trembled under the monster's roar. Its immense form loomed like a corrupted deity of destruction, thick tendrils of venomous fog leaking from its mouth, claws digging through stone and steel as though they were paper.
People screamed in the distance—guards, civilians, mercenaries—fleeing in all directions as death closed in with every monstrous step.
But two figures moved toward it.
Ran's black-stained cloak fluttered behind him, his crimson sword pulsing violently with dark energy. At his side, the white-haired woman matched his pace, her blade gleaming, her face firm with resolve.
They moved in sync, climbing up the creature's massive arm just as it raised it to smash another building. Ran darted ahead, his boots slamming onto muscle and scale, his blade ready. The girl slashed ferociously, aiming for tendons and joints, trying to limit its movement.
"Shadow Rush!" Ran growled.
In an instant, his form blurred, and he launched forward like a ghost of carnage, his sword dragging a trail of black and red as he raced toward the creature's neck.
His attack and movement way stronger than before.
The monster let out a garbled cry and twisted its arm violently, flinging both of them like ragdolls. Ran and the girl crashed into the side of a stone building. The wall cracked and caved in with the force of their impact.
Ran hit the ground hard, gasping. Blood trickled down his chin. His ribs screamed in protest. But the pain didn't matter—not anymore. Not with that heart pounding like a drum of war inside his chest.
His grotesque heart throbbed unnaturally fast, hungry. His sword pulsed in his grip. His vision sharpened. Everything—everything—told him to kill.
The girl groaned, pushing herself up from the rubble.
"You good?"
She asked, already standing. Her long hair was dirtied, her armor scratched, but she moved like a seasoned knight.
Ran didn't answer right away. His hand trembled. His jaw clenched.
He looked at her and nodded.
"Go."
She leapt into the fray without hesitation.
Ran stayed for a second longer, breathing heavily. The dark heart within him continued to beat faster and faster. Every thump pulled something in him deeper into a void. Bloodlust boiled in his veins.
And then the grin came.
A slow, unnatural grin. A grin not meant for the living.
"Kill…"
He whispered.
Again.
"Kill."
Again.
"Kill. Kill. Kill."
His voice became a chant, low and guttural, as if something ancient was waking up.
The girl didn't notice—she was already back in the battle, dodging another wide swing and slicing clean through one of the monster's arms. It howled and reeled back.
Then came the fog.
A thick, noxious wave of green and gray, pouring from its gaping maw like a cloud of death. Civilians gasped—then screamed. Blood and bile burst from their mouths as their lungs exploded. Guards clutched their chests, their eyes rolling back before they collapsed, frothing from the mouth.
Ran's eyes widened in horror.
So did the girl's.
"Hold your breath!"
She shouted.
They did.
Through the haze, they fought. Blind, nearly breathless, they clashed blades against the monster's hide again and again. Their movements cleared parts of the fog, giving them seconds of clarity before it returned.
Ran felt his sanity slipping. The grin remained, but somewhere behind it was still Ran. Somewhere, in the pounding of that cursed heart, in the black haze over his vision—he still wanted to survive.
The girl landed beside him.
"I'm using my finisher. Back me up!"
Ran nodded, eyes wild, sword humming in his hand.
She vanished.
In a blink, she appeared behind the monster.
Her sword plunged through its back—straight into the spine. The monster wailed in agony, its roar shaking the ground.
Ran moved.
He blurred forward, appearing at its gut.
With a vicious, unrelenting scream, he slashed his blade across its abdomen. Flesh tore. Blood exploded in rivers. Intestines spilled like wet rope, splashing across the blood-soaked cobbles.
The monster thrashed, poison spraying, claws swinging, tail smashing buildings—but it was cornered now. Desperate.
It opened its jaw and spat acidic venom.
They dodged.
It slammed its fists down in rage.
They countered, slicing through tendons, crippling its legs.
It screamed again and tried to retreat, but they were faster. Shadows clung to Ran like mist, guiding him, feeding him. The girl's blade glowed with noble light, a piercing contrast to the darkness that surrounded her companion.
Together, they moved like death incarnate.
Ran leapt. So did she.
In one motion—perfect, synchronized, brutal—they slashed.
The head of the monster rolled across the earth.
Its body collapsed like a fallen colossus, blood pooling in a wide river beneath it.
Silence fell.
Only the crackling of broken homes and the distant sobs of survivors remained.
Ran stood with his sword trembling in his hand, the red glow fading.
The girl landed beside him, panting, bruised, but standing proud.
They looked at each other. Not a word exchanged—none needed.
The monster was dead.
But Ran's heart was still beating.
Still pulsing with that dark, unnatural rhythm.
And he could feel it again.
The craving.