As we reached further into the heart of the forest, the silence of Aokigahara began to feel heavy, like a physical weight pressing against our chests. The "East Team," which consisted of our primary hunting group, had been moving with a sense of grim purpose until the moment the forest seemed to scream. A few incredibly strong yomurei—monstrous spirits born of malice—had ambushed us from the thickets. The sheer force of their spiritual pressure shattered our formation, scattering us like leaves in a storm. The sound of the initial impact was deafening, a cacophony of breaking wood and ethereal roars that seemed to vibrate within our very bones. I remember the sensation of being thrown through the air, the world spinning in a blur of dark green and grey, until the cold dampness of the earth rushed up to meet me. For a few seconds, the world was silent, save for the ringing in my ears and the frantic thumping of my heart.

  When the dust settled and the echoing roars of the spirits faded, we realized the worst had happened: we were separated into four distinct groups. The impact had been so surgical, so precise, that it felt less like a random attack and more like a calculated effort by the forest itself to dismantle us. The first group was me, Tatsuya, and Souta. We were the remnants of the vanguard, left to navigate the darkness. The second consisted of Ayaka, Masato, and Haruto, three capable fighters who were now isolated from the main strength of the team. The third was Reina, Aiko, and Mina, whose collective skills were formidable but now dangerously unsupported. And finally, there was Itsuki, our strongest individual member, who had been pushed deepest into the woods, completely alone. The thought of Itsuki being isolated in such a hostile environment sent a shiver down my spine, but I knew his strength was legendary for a reason.

  I stood there, gasping for air, looking at my two companions. We were standing in the middle of nowhere, trapped at the bottom of a deep, jagged ravine inside the forest. The walls were slick with moss and ancient rot, rising high above us like the bars of a gargantuan prison. The air down here was stagnant and cold, smelling of wet stone and decaying leaves. I could feel the moisture seeping through my boots, a reminder of how long it had been since this ground had seen a single ray of genuine sunlight.

  "Arashi-san and Tatsuya..." I said, my voice sounding small and fragile against the towering cliffs of earth. I looked at both of them, checking for injuries, my eyes scanning for any sign of blood or broken gear. The silence of the ravine was oppressive, making every word I spoke feel like an intrusion.

  "We were separated from the others..." Souta said. His face was a mask of focused intensity, showing no sign of the panic that was clawing at the edges of my mind. He reached down and put away his daggers, the clanking sounds of metal hitting leather echoing sharply in the narrow space. The sound was a cold reminder of the combat we had just barely survived, a metallic punctuation mark on the end of our initial encounter. Souta was always the calmest among us, his discipline acting as a shield against the psychological pressure of the Aokigahara.

  "This situation can't get any worse... we need to find the others before something bad will happen," Tatsuya added. He was looking up at the sky, or what little we could see of it through the dense canopy that loomed hundreds of feet above. His hand rested near the hilt of his sword, his fingers twitching slightly as if he were already anticipating the next strike. Tatsuya’s pragmatic nature often bordered on pessimism, but in a place like this, his caution was an asset.

  I turned my gaze toward our surroundings, trying to find a way out. The ravine was narrow, far too narrow for comfort. Thick, gnarled vines hung from above like nooses, swaying almost imperceptibly in a breeze we couldn't feel at the bottom. The stone walls were dense and unforgiving, offering very few handholds for someone without specialized equipment. It looked like a natural prison, a trap set by nature itself. "It’s hard to climb up in a ravine like this," I muttered, my fingers brushing against the slick, mossy surface of the rock. But then I looked at my friends. I knew their capabilities; I had seen them perform feats that defied common logic. "But I'm sure it will be easy especially for Souta and Tatsuya."

  We could barely see any sunlight here. The canopy of the forest above us was so dense that only grey, sickly light filtered down, making it feel as if the shadows themselves were hunting us, creeping closer every time we turned our heads. The light didn't feel like it came from the sun; it felt like a pale imitation, a ghost of radiance that only served to highlight the depth of the shadows.

  "This ravine is too narrow. It will be challenging to climb this up," Souta said, echoing my thoughts while squinting at the height. He stepped closer to the wall, testing the stability of a protruding rock with his boot. It crumbled instantly under his weight, tumbling down into the darkness below.

  "Climbing this ravine is pretty risky if we all go first; we might get hurt if the rock gives way," Tatsuya noted. He was right; the earth here felt unstable, softened by the dampness of the forest floor and the eternal humidity that clung to the ravine walls. The risk of a fall wasn't just about the height; it was about what might be waiting for us if we landed awkwardly in the pitch-black crevices below.

  I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart, forcing the air into my lungs despite the tightness in my chest. "We're nowhere. Our best option is to contact Tsubasa. Fuyou-san has eyes everywhere in the forest. I'm sure as we speak, he's telling Tsubasa about what happened to us," I said calmly. I knew that panicking would only drain our energy and cloud our judgment. We had to trust our support team back at the base. They were our lifeline, the invisible threads that kept us connected to the world outside this green hell.

  "I agree. We should contact him and ask him where the others are," Souta said. We remained calm despite the suffocating walls of the ravine. We knew from our training that panicking makes things worse—it clouds the mind and slows the reflexes, making you an easy target for the predators that lurk in the Shin'en.

  The second group—Ayaka, Masato, and Haruto—were trying to find their bearings in a completely different part of the forest. They had been pushed into a section where the trees grew so close together they formed a literal wall of gnarled wood and sharp thorns. The path they had been following had vanished, swallowed by the shifting geography of the Aokigahara.

  "Where are we?" Haruto asked, wiping sweat from his forehead. He gripped his weapon tightly, scanning the gloom for any sign of movement. The air around them was thick with the scent of pine and something far more metallic, the lingering odor of the spirits they had just encountered.

  "Still, somewhere in the forest. We were separated from the others. Those yomureis..." Ayaka said, her voice trailing off as she gripped her hands into tight fists. The frustration was evident in her eyes; she hated being caught off guard, hated the feeling of losing control over the situation. She was a strategist by nature, and a broken formation was a personal affront to her skills.

  "No use getting mad about it. It is what it is... what's important is we need to find the others' location," Haruto said, trying to be the voice of reason. He looked up, searching for a break in the leaves, but just like us, they were trapped in a world of perpetual twilight. Every tree looked the same as the last, a repeating pattern of bark and shadow that seemed designed to induce madness.

  Masato, ever the observer, stood perfectly still. He wasn't looking at the trees; he was feeling the air, thinking, processing the subtle shifts in the spiritual energy around them. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was usually because he had found a piece of the puzzle that everyone else had missed. "First we need to contact Irukawa-san. He might know where the others are, knowing that Fuyou-san has all eyes inside this forest," Ayaka suggested, her mind already moving toward the next logical step.

  "You're right..." Haruto agreed, nodding his head.

  Ayaka stepped into a small clearing, a rare patch of ground not yet reclaimed by the encroaching roots. She closed her eyes, took a centering breath, and attempted to use her mental link to reach Tsubasa. The forest grew quiet for a few seconds, the only sound being the mournful whistle of the wind through the high branches, a sound like a distant, lonely flute. She waited, her brow furrowed in concentration as she projected her thoughts outward, searching for the familiar frequency of Tsubasa's mind. Then, she opened her eyes, a look of disappointment and confusion crossing her face.

  "I can't reach him..." she said, her voice dropping a few octaves.

  Masato finally spoke, his voice calm and analytical, cutting through the growing tension. "Maybe he's talking to someone... telepathy shin’en can read other people's minds and talk to them, but the user can't talk to multiple people at once in a two-way conversation. When he made that announcement earlier at the van, he was broadcasting—connecting his mind to everyone at once, but we couldn't reply back. For us to talk back, it has to be a 1-on-1 or a very small group. The reason why we can't reach him is maybe he's talking to the West Team."

  He paused for a moment, letting the logic of his statement sink in. "But that's only my understanding, considering that Tsubasa Irukawa doesn't have much experience in the field. He might be struggling with the sheer volume of spiritual interference this forest generates."

  "That makes sense..." Ayaka conceded, her tension easing slightly at the logical explanation. She respected Masato’s insight; he had a way of stripping the emotion away from a crisis until only the facts remained.

  "Then we should wait a little longer for him," Haruto said. With a plan in place, they continued to walk, moving with a steady, easy pace. They refused to let the oppressive atmosphere of the Aokigahara break their spirit, their boots hitting the ground in a synchronized rhythm that spoke of their shared resolve.

  On a different side of the woods entirely, the third group—Reina, Aiko, and Mina—had found themselves in a vastly different environment. Reina was the most mature of the three, possessing a level of intelligence and strength that often put her ahead of her peers. She led the way, her eyes sharp and ever-watchful. As they moved, Reina’s signature fan was glowing with a soft silver light along the edge, acting as a spiritual compass that hummed with a low, reassuring frequency. Eventually, the glow dimmed and died out as she suppressed her aura to avoid detection. She knew that in this forest, being seen was often the same as being dead.

  Unlike the dark ravines and thick thickets the rest of us were dealing with, they had found an open space. There were still thick trees guarding the perimeter, standing like silent sentinels, but here, the sunlight actually hit the ground in long, dusty shafts. A small, clear pond sat in the center of the clearing, fed by a gentle river that bubbled over smooth stones. It was a beautiful, surreal sight, a pocket of tranquility in a land of nightmares.

  "Are you two okay?" Reina asked, her voice steady and commanding, yet carrying a hint of maternal concern.

  Aiko was sitting on a mossy log, wincing as she looked at a jagged scratch on her leg where a yomurei's claw had grazed her. "I'm okay, just a little scratch..." she said, though the slight tremor in her hands suggested the shock was still wearing off. She used her sword as a makeshift crutch to push herself back up to her feet, her face set in a grimace of determination.

  "I'm fine as well," Mina added, adjusting her gear and checking her supplies.

  Reina scanned the perimeter, her fan held loosely but ready in her hand. Her instincts were screaming that this peace was temporary, a lure designed to lower their guard. "We may be okay, but our situation is not. We are isolated, and the forest is actively trying to keep us that way."

  Mina turned her head and noticed the water, her eyes lighting up at the sight. "Look, there's a pond..." she pointed. The sight of clean water was a relief, a small mercy in an afternoon of violence.

  "We should rest there and wait for Irukawa-kun's announcement. As of now, I'm guessing that he's talking to someone. I already tried talking to him, but I can't connect," Reina said, her voice echoing softly across the clearing.

  They walked toward the pond and set their heavy gear down on the grass, the blades and packs clattering softly. The sound of the running river was a stark contrast to the roars of the yomurei they had faced minutes before; it was a song of life in a place that reeked of death. Aiko began to wash her wound with the cool water, the chill numbing the pain, while Mina splashed her face to clear the grime and sweat of battle.

  Reina sat back against a large, sun-warmed rock. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the forest wash over her, feeling the warmth of the stone seep into her back. "This is a fine place to rest after what just happened," she remarked. But even as she rested, her hand never moved far from her fan, her fingers tracing the patterns on the handle, ready to unleash her power at a moment's notice.

  One by one, we prepared for the ascent out of the ravine. Souta went first, as he was the most agile. He focused his shin’en, his internal energy, into his limbs, feeling the warmth spread through his muscles. With a sudden burst of speed, he began to leap. He was like a shadow, leaping wall by wall, his feet finding purchase on the smallest ridges and most precarious cracks. He didn't fall; his movements were precise and feline, a display of perfect balance and control. As expected, he reached the top with ease and peered back down at us, his figure silhouetted against the dim light above.

  It was Tatsuya’s turn next. He looked at me, a glimmer of the old competitive spirit in his eyes. "Try not to fall... Ren..." he said with a small, confident smirk. He took a deep breath, and suddenly, blue lightning particles left a trace in the air around him, crackling with a sharp, ozone smell. He jumped with explosive power, hitting the first wall and pushing off toward the opposite side. He used the momentum to propel himself upward, his boots sparking against the hard stone until he vaulted over the edge and landed silently beside Souta.

  Now it was my turn. I stood at the base of the cliff, looking up at the daunting height. I closed my eyes and focused, drawing the energy from deep within my core. Just like when I use my Kyomu Danretsu, I began to channel my shin’en into my legs. A vibrant red aura burst around my lower body, humming with a low, intense heat that made the damp air shimmer. I opened my eyes and jumped as high as I could, pushing off the ground with everything I had. But the gravity of the forest felt heavier here, as if the earth were physically trying to hold me back. "This is bad...!" I gasped as I realized my trajectory was short; I wasn't going to clear the ledge. I reached out in a blind panic, digging my fingers deep into the soil and grass at the edge, my body hanging over the dark, yawning drop of the ravine.

  Tatsuya didn't hesitate. He reached down, his hand firm and strong as he grabbed my wrist. "Got you," he muttered. "Thanks!" I said, flashing him a grateful smile as he hauled me up onto the flat ground. Finally, we were back on level ground. But the forest here was just as dark and intimidating; thick trees surrounded us on all sides, and the sun remained a distant, fading memory.

  Back with Tatsuya and Souta, we had just finished our ascent and were checking our equipment when the air seemed to vibrate. It wasn't a sound, but a feeling, a subtle ripple in the spiritual fabric of the world. It was a familiar sensation—the opening of a telepathic channel.

  "Everyone, can you hear me?"

  "It's Tsubasa's voice!" I exclaimed, standing up straight and focusing on the voice in my head.

  "I'm talking to everyone in the East Team," Tsubasa’s voice echoed clearly in our minds, sounding a bit breathless. "I've been given orders by Kasei-san. As of now, Kazenagi-san, Arashi-san, and Rendo-san—you're not far ahead of Kasei-san. Just move forward and you'll catch up to him. But be careful... there's a really strong yomurei ahead that is blocking your way. Its spiritual signature is highly irregular."

  "Got it!" I responded mentally, feeling a surge of adrenaline that washed away the fatigue of the climb. Itsuki was close. If we could reach him, we could reform the core of the team.

  Tsubasa’s voice shifted, the focus of the telepathic beam likely moving the connection to the next group. "...Sumeragi-san, Kiryu-san, and Kagutsuchi-san, the three of you are still far from Kazenagi-san and the others. The path that leads to Kasei-san is to continue on your Right. There are only a few weak yomurei on your side for now, but don't let your guard down."

  In their part of the woods, Ayaka nodded to herself, her face hardening with determination. "Alright, I got it. Let's go!" she told Haruto and Masato. They adjusted their pace, moving toward the right as instructed.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Tsubasa continued his roll call, his voice becoming a bit more strained with the effort of maintaining the broad-spectrum link. "...the last one, Hoshizaki-san, Ayanami-san, and Shiranui-san, you guys are far but not too far from reaching Kasei-san. Just like Kazenagi-san, just move forward with a little to the right..."

  "You heard him!" Aiko said, jumping up from the mossy log by the pond, her injury momentarily forgotten in the rush of the mission. She checked the sheath of her sword, making sure it was secure before turning to her companions.

  "Yeah, let's go!" Reina said, her silver fan snapping open with a sharp, resonant clack that seemed to signal the end of their brief respite. She led the way out of the clearing, her eyes already scanning the dense treeline for the most efficient path toward the coordinates Tsubasa had implied.

  We all felt a deep, unspoken sense of gratitude toward Tsubasa and the Yomu executioners stationed at the forest's edge. They were the ones on the back lines, the unsung heroes who kept the communication lines open and protected the perimeter while we were deep in the thick of the forest’s malice. Without their guidance, we would be blind, wandering aimlessly in a labyrinth that was designed to swallow the unwary.

  "...Kasei-san kept moving forward," Tsubasa’s voice added, sounding a bit more strained now, as if the mental exertion of bridging so many minds across such a distance was beginning to drain him. "He said for you guys to catch up to him. He will not be the one to adjust; you guys have to. He's heading to the middle of the forest. I don't know why, but Shirou also kept getting weird shin’en signals from there. It's like a pulse... a rhythmic heartbeat coming from the earth itself. That's all. Calling out."

  The connection snapped shut with a subtle pop in my mind. Silence returned to the Aokigahara, but the objective was now crystal clear. We all began to move toward the center, toward the place where Itsuki Kasei was walking alone into the unknown, a lone warrior heading toward the source of the anomaly.

  Behind the scenes, at the edge of the forest where the command tents were pitched and the barrier was humming with energy, the Yomu executioners were struggling to stay calm. The news that the East Team had been fractured was a heavy blow to their morale. They were used to seeing us as an invincible force, and the idea of us being scattered was unsettling.

  "Think they'll be okay?" one executioner asked, his voice low as he gripped his spear tightly. He looked at the wall of trees, which seemed more like a hungry maw than a forest in the failing light.

  "Don't worry, they're the top three strongest teams in the academy," another replied, though his eyes remained fixed on the dark, unmoving treeline. "If they can't handle it, no one can. We have to have faith in their training."

  "Yeah! There's no way they'll get defeated easily!" a third cheered, trying to break the heavy tension that had settled over the camp like a fog.

  While the soldiers talked, Shirou and Tsubasa were focused entirely on their monitors and mental maps. Shirou was sitting cross-legged on a mat, his eyes rolled back so that only the whites were visible—his "Forest Sight" was active, allowing him to perceive the spiritual landscape of the woods as a series of glowing threads. "Damn it... the East Team isn't doing well. Their signatures are flickering, moving through high-interference zones. But the West Team is proceeding really well. They're almost in the middle of the forest already," Shirou reported. His voice was raspy, his throat dry from the effort of monitoring so many moving parts in real-time.

  "It's okay, I already sent them a message," Tsubasa said, wiping sweat from his own brow with the back of his hand. "Kasei-san doesn't want to adjust; he’s pushing forward to meet the West Team. He’s putting the pressure on everyone else to keep up. He’s acting as the anchor for the entire operation."

  Shirou bit his lip, a look of guilt crossing his face. "If we just knew that there was something happening in the middle of the forest, we wouldn't have split the hunting group into three in the first place. I should have detected that pulse earlier." He felt a heavy weight of responsibility. As the scout, he felt he should have seen the "weird shin’en" before it became a factor in the mission’s complexity.

  Tsubasa saw right through his friend's self-doubt. He walked over and tapped Shirou firmly on the back, a silent gesture of solidarity. "Don't blame yourself... it's not your fault. This forest... it hides things. Even from eyes like yours. It has a mind of its own, Shirou."

  We moved forward without stopping, our pace quickening now that we had a target. We knew our destination was the heart of the forest, but the only thing that gave us pause was Tsubasa's report from earlier. He had said there were strong yomurei on our location, right in our path.

  Suddenly, we stopped walking. The air shifted, growing heavy and thick with a sickly sweet odor. The moment our yomurei detector blinked a sharp, rhythmic green, a chill ran down my spine. B+ rank. That wasn’t just “strong”—that was a category of enemy that could end a career in a heartbeat. Souta’s eyes narrowed until they were just slits of amber, his double daggers gleaming faintly in the filtered grey light as he drew them with a soundless grace. Tatsuya’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. I could feel the air thickening around us, each particle of Shin’en in the atmosphere vibrating with a jagged tension.

  “Arashi-san… we can’t just walk around them,” I said quietly, glancing at Souta. The detector showed multiple signals, all of them converging on our position. His jaw was set in a hard line, his expression unreadable, but his daggers already hummed with a faint, predatory energy, as if the blades themselves were sensing the approaching threat.

  “We don’t have the time to circle around. It’ll take hours to navigate a detour in this terrain, and by then, more could appear or we could lose the others entirely,” Tatsuya added. His voice was low and precise, almost clinical, as if he were discussing a theoretical problem rather than a life-or-death confrontation. Sparks of blue lightning began to trace along the length of his sword, casting flickering, distorted shadows against the bark of the ancient trees. He didn’t smile, and he didn’t offer any of his usual dry quips. The sheer intensity in his gaze said he was already calculating the trajectories of the opening moves.

  I swallowed hard, feeling the dry lump in my throat. “Then we fight. We can do this together.”

  Souta gave a single nod, a silent approval that meant more than any long speech. He crouched low to the ground, his daggers held in a reverse grip, his body taut like a coiled spring. I felt my Crimson Shin’en begin to pulse through my body, a warm, humming heat that started in my chest and flowed along my veins to my extremities. It provided strength, but I knew it was a double-edged sword; I had to keep my focus absolute.

  From the shadows of the twisted trees ahead, the first B+ yomurei emerged into the dim light. Its form was vaguely humanoid, but grotesquely elongated, its limbs stretching far beyond natural proportions. Its skin looked like translucent, rotting parchment stretched over rippling, blackened sinews. Its eyes glowed with a sickly green light that seemed to pierce through the gloom, and its mere presence made the ground beneath our feet tremble with a low-frequency vibration. More began to appear behind it, emerging from the bark and the shadows as if the forest itself were birthing them.

  “Move!” Souta hissed, lunging forward first. He was a blur of motion, his daggers cutting through the air with a whistle. Sparks of shadow Shin’en traced dark arcs as he slashed into the first yomurei. The creature let out an inhuman screech—a wail that sounded like grinding metal—but Souta didn’t pause. He spun his body mid-air, a master of momentum, and drove his second dagger deep into the chest of another creature, ripping through its essence.

  Tatsuya moved next, his style a stark contrast to Souta’s fluid agility. His sword hummed with high-frequency electricity, leaving faint, crackling streaks of blue lightning in the air as he swung in wide, devastatingly precise arcs. The first yomurei he struck didn't just fall; it was vaporized in a brilliant flash of energy. As another lunged from his blind side, Tatsuya barely shifted his stance, pivoting on one heel with mechanical efficiency. A concentrated streak of blue lightning shot from his blade, cleaving the creature cleanly in two.

  I stepped forward, gripping my sword with both hands to steady my aim. My Crimson Shin’en coiled along the length of the blade, glowing brighter and more intensely with every heartbeat. The first strike I faced was a close call; the creature’s jagged claw scraped against my shoulder armor, sending a jarring shockwave through my arm that nearly made me drop my weapon. I countered immediately, channeling the red Shin’en into a powerful thrust that pierced the creature's core. I could feel the monster convulsing around my blade, its dark energy fighting to swallow the metal, but my Shin’en burned hotter, fueled by my resolve, until the creature finally crumbled into a pile of foul-smelling ash.

  Souta was already in motion again, his feet barely touching the ground. He leaped onto the twisted roots of a nearby tree, using the elevation to gain a tactical advantage. With a somersault mid-air, he landed behind another yomurei, his daggers stabbing twice with lightning speed before the spirit even realized he had moved. He moved with eerie precision, every motion calculated to be as economical and deadly as possible. I could see the muscles in his arms strain with the effort, but he never faltered.

  Tatsuya’s sword hummed in a low, constant vibration that I could feel in my teeth. He swung horizontally, sending a wave of lightning arcs across a group of three approaching spirits. They screeched, their shadowy flesh smoking and sparking where the energy struck. The air grew heavy with their malice, a concentrated aura of Shin'en that pressed against my chest, trying to slow my movements and induce a sense of crushing despair.

  “Keep moving! Don’t give them a chance to surround us!” I shouted, my voice barely audible over the din of battle. I slashed through another pair of smaller spirits that tried to latch onto my legs. My Crimson Shin’en wrapped around my arms like molten chains, boosting the speed and raw power of every blow I landed. Still, one of the yomurei lunged from the deep shadows, faster than its size suggested, its claw grazing my shoulder. Pain shot through me, a burning sensation that threatened to distract me, but I shook it off with a snarl. I countered with a spinning strike that sent the creature toppling into a cluster of writhing roots.

  Souta’s eyes flicked to mine for a fraction of a second, a silent communication passing between us that replaced the need for words. We attacked as a unit. He vaulted over the dissolving corpse of a defeated creature, landing beside me in perfect synchronization. Together, we moved as a blur of steel and energy—daggers and sword weaving a deadly tapestry of strikes and parries.

  But the yomurei weren’t passive targets. One of the larger ones, a grotesque mass of limbs and eyes, roared and slammed its fists into the ground. A massive shockwave rippled through the earth, cracking the stone and nearly throwing me off my feet. Tatsuya barely flinched, though the sparks from his boots showed he was grounding the energy through his stance. “Stay light on your feet!” he barked, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. He sliced through another yomurei that had tried to flank us from the rear.

  I felt my muscles beginning to scream in protest, the Crimson Shin’en starting to burn with a warning heat that told me I was pushing my limits. This wasn’t a simple skirmish; it was a full-scale test of our endurance. Each B+ rank yomurei struck with a terrifying level of intelligence, dodging our attacks and predicting our movements with uncanny accuracy.

  One particularly massive creature lunged at me with horrifying speed. Its claw, serrated like a rusty saw, aimed straight for my chest. I dove to the side, rolling over a protruding root, and slashed upward with a concentrated burst of Crimson Shin’en. Sparks erupted as my blade met the creature’s dark energy, carving a deep gash along its arm. It thrashed wildly, but before it could mount a counter-attack, Souta spun behind it, his daggers slicing through its spinal area in a seamless, deadly motion.

  Tatsuya’s sword flashed again, the blue light illuminating the dark woods. Arcs of lightning cut through two more yomurei that had tried to encircle us. His expression remained unchanged, a mask of cold determination, but the air around him crackled violently. He was fast, precise, and seemingly unstoppable, yet even he couldn't be everywhere at once.

  I lunged at another creature, but it ducked under my swing, its claws aiming for my lower legs. I jumped back, barely avoiding the strike, and countered with a heavy downward thrust that impaled the monster to the ground. Its scream was deafening, a high-pitched wail that echoed through the forest. Every time we defeated one, it felt like two more emerged from the shadows to take its place.

  Souta didn’t pause to breathe. His daggers danced through the air, adapting seamlessly to the rapid onslaught. I tried to match his rhythm, my body moving on pure instinct and years of grueling training. Tatsuya’s sword hummed louder, the lightning arcs now forming a protective cage of energy in front of him. One yomurei tried to charge through it, but the electricity tore through its chest, vaporizing it instantly.

  The forest floor was now littered with ash and the fading remnants of defeated spirits, but the air remained thick and heavy. I could feel my strength waning, each breath burning in my lungs like fire. Souta’s movements were still precise, but I noticed the slight lag in his recovery time. Tatsuya’s calm precision was the only thing keeping us from being overwhelmed.

  A cluster of yomurei cornered us near a twisted, ancient tree, forcing me to take the front line. My Crimson Shin’en flared to a brilliant red, coiling around my blade as I swung with everything I had left. I cut down one, then another, the heat of the energy burning along my arms. Sweat streamed down my face, stinging my eyes, but I couldn't blink. One of the creatures lunged from the treetops—a shadow dropping from the canopy—and I barely rolled aside, slashing at it mid-air.

  “Arashi-san! Left flank!” I shouted, spotting a creature attempting to circle around Souta's blind side. Without hesitation, he pivoted, spinning with both daggers to strike down the threat. His eyes never left the next incoming monster. “Keep moving!” he urged, and we pushed forward once more.

  Tatsuya’s blade flashed a final time, a massive discharge of lightning that cleared a path through the remaining spirits. His attacks gave me a sliver of hope, even as the strain of combat weighed on my soul. Every step required absolute concentration.

  The forest seemed to fight us with every resource at its disposal. Roots grabbed at our boots, and branches whipped against our faces like lashes. But we pressed on. Each time a yomurei fell, we didn’t pause. Finally, the last of the B+ rank yomurei collapsed into a pile of cinders. The forest returned to its eerie silence. I sank to one knee, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs. Souta crouched nearby, his daggers sheathed, his shoulders tense. Tatsuya stood slightly apart, his eyes still scanning the trees.

  “We… did it,” I said finally, my voice hoarse from shouting and exertion.

  Souta didn’t respond immediately, only nodded once. “Careful. This area is still unstable. The energy we released will draw others.”

  Tatsuya finally lowered his blade. “Don’t underestimate them. B+ rank is never easy. That fight was a reminder of the stakes.”

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead, looking at the scattered ash. “We have to keep moving. Kasei-san… the others… we can’t lose any more time.”

  Souta sheathed his daggers completely. “We go forward. Together. No mistakes.”

  I nodded, gripping my sword. The forest was silent, but I could feel the remaining shadows watching us, waiting for a single moment of weakness. We moved on, stepping back into the darkness.

  The journey through the woods continued, each step a testament to our resolve. The trees seemed to grow taller, their branches intertwining to form a ceiling that blocked out even the faintest hope of light. We moved in a tight triangle, our weapons ready, our senses dialed to their maximum. The path ahead was uncertain, but the goal remained fixed in our minds: the center of the forest, and the truth behind the weird signals.

  Every snap of a twig or rustle of a leaf made us freeze, our Shin'en flickering in anticipation. As we pushed deeper, the air grew even colder, and the spiritual pressure intensified until it was a constant hum in our ears. We thought of our friends in the other groups, wondering if they were facing similar trials, and hoped that Tsubasa’s voice would return to guide us once more.