Ch. 12 — Return of the Flame

Night draped the world in silence.

The city slept uneasily, its streets dark beneath the glow of pale streetlamps. Towers of steel and glass loomed, scarred by barricades and reinforced walls. In the distance, gunfire rattled once, then faded, swallowed by the wind. Humanity clung to survival, but hope was thin.

And then—the sky split open.

A column of light tore down from the heavens, blinding and pure. The ground quaked, windows shattered, alarms wailed across the city. Creatures lurking in the shadows screamed, scattering into the dark. Even the demons, watching from afar, felt their hearts twist with primal fear.

From within the light, a shadow descended.

The figure fell slowly at first, then with crushing speed. His body was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded behind his head as if lounging. The image burned into every eye that watched—the silhouette of a man, but radiating something otherworldly.

The impact shook the earth.

The ground caved, a crater ripping through the street. Dust and stone blasted outward, cars flipping, lampposts snapping like twigs. When the smoke cleared, he stood at the center—tall, scarred, silver-haired, his body wrapped only in a white cloth at the waist. In his hand gleamed a black-sheathed katana.

Arata breathed out slowly, eyes still closed—His voice broke the silence, casual, almost amused.

“—Someone toss me a pair of sunglasses, or this is gonna get awkward. ”

The soldiers who had rushed to the scene froze. They had seen monsters, demons, nightmares that shredded tanks—but never this. One of them, trembling, pulled dark glasses from his vest and tossed them into the crater.

Arata caught them easily. He slid them onto his face, let the corner of his mouth quirk tugging at his lips.

“Much better. ”

In the blink of an eye, he was gone from the crater. Gasps rang out—then there he was, leaning casually against a military truck, as if he’d always been there. The soldiers spun, weapons half-raised, but none dared pull the trigger.

Arata lifted a brow. “—So, which one of you is giving me a ride? I could use a shower—And clothes. ”

The commander swallowed hard, then barked a shaky order. Engines roared, vehicles moving into formation. Soldiers stared at him as if unsure whether he was savior or devil, but none dared resist.

The convoy rolled toward the city. Arata sat silently in the back of the lead truck, arms crossed, katana resting against his shoulder. His Draconic Eyes, hidden behind the shades, scanned the streets.

The world had changed—Walls and barricades lined every block. Watchtowers replaced traffic lights. Armed patrols roamed the night, not with rifles, but with blades of steel and silver. Fear lingered in every corner.

Arata’s chest tightened—“—So it’s already begun. ”

The truck rumbled on, carrying him into the heart of a city no longer his own.

The convoy rolled through the fortified gates of the base. Floodlights swept across the trucks, catching the gleam of armored plating and the shadows of soldiers lining the walls. Watchtowers bristled with weapons—though most were blades, not guns.

Engines cut off—The courtyard fell into tense silence.

Arata stepped out of the lead truck. He towered over everyone, silver hair glinting beneath the harsh lights, his body still wrapped in nothing but the white cloth. The katana hung casually at his side, but its presence was heavy, oppressive.

Hundreds of eyes fixed on him. Soldiers froze mid-step. Engineers paused in their work. Even hardened veterans, scarred from battles with demons, faltered. Whispers spread like wildfire.

“—What is he? ”

“—A demon? ”

“—No he came from the light. ”

Arata ignored them. His sunglasses hid the burning slits of his Draconic Eyes, but even unseen, his gaze carried weight. He walked across the courtyard barefoot, each step echoing.

A squad moved to intercept him, weapons ready.

“Stop right there. ” one barked. “Drop the blade. ”

Arata tilted his head, sighing. “—Seriously? After I just dropped in like some celestial delivery package? ”

The soldier swallowed, sweat beading on his brow. “Protocol. No unidentified armed—entities. ”

Arata raised a brow. “—Entities. That’s what I am to you guys, huh? ”

Before tension could snap, a voice cut through the night. Strong, commanding, feminine.

“Stand down. ”

The crowd parted as she entered. A tall woman in a military coat of crimson and black strode forward, her silver hair tied neatly back, her blue eyes sharp as steel. She carried herself like someone who bore the weight of an entire city.

The soldiers stiffened, saluting.

“Commander Aris, ” one whispered.

Aris stopped a few paces from Arata, meeting his gaze without flinching. “You caused quite an entrance. The light, the crater, the panic. Care to explain who—or what—you are? ”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered soldiers.

Aris’s eyes narrowed. “Big words. Do you expect me to take them at face value? ”

Arata shrugged. “Not really. But when demons start knocking harder, you’ll see soon enough. ”

The commander studied him in silence. Then she gestured to the side. “Take him to interrogation. If his words hold weight, we’ll know. If not—” Her eyes sharpened. “. we’ll deal with him. ”

The soldiers moved cautiously, escorting Arata toward a reinforced building at the base’s heart. He walked without resistance, his let out a small, lopsided smile lingering.

Inside, a stark interrogation room waited—metal table, mirror glass, a single chair. Arata sat, resting his katana across his knees, tilting his head toward the mirror.

With his Draconic Eyes, flared behind the shades. The glass wasn’t opaque to him. He saw the figures gathered beyond—officers, scientists, Aris herself. All watching. All whispering.

He chuckled low. “—Yeah. I see you. ”

The observers froze as his words carried through the glass.

Arata leaned back, stretching lazily. “So. Who’s first with the questions? ”

The door creaked open.

Commander Aris stepped inside, her boots clicking against the metal floor. She carried no guards, no files—just herself and the weight of command. Her coat flared slightly as she sat opposite Arata, folding her hands neatly on the table.

Silence hung between them. The hum of the overhead lamp was the only sound.

Aris spoke first, her tone sharp but measured. “You fall from the sky in a beam of light. You survive an impact that would reduce tanks to slag. You walk in here half-naked, carrying a sword that hums with energy we can’t classify. And now you sit here smirking like this is all a joke. ”

Arata tilted his head, lounging back in the chair. “Well—when you put it like that, yeah, it sounds a little absurd. ”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then tell me. Who are you really? A weapon? A demon trick? Something worse? ”

Arata gave a faint smirk faded into something steadier, quieter. “—My name is Arata Renji. I was human once. Just a man living a boring life. But I was chosen—summoned, trained, reforged. And now I’m back, because your world’s running out of time. ”

Her gaze sharpened. “Chosen. By whom? ”

Arata shrugged. “Let’s just say—higher management. And no, I don’t mean your generals. ”

Aris leaned forward. “You expect me to accept that without proof? ”

Arata chuckled low. “Not asking you to accept anything. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. The demons are already moving, right? ”

She stiffened—just slightly. “—You know about them. ”

“I know more than you’d like, ” Arata said, his tone firm now. “Two years. That’s all the veil gave you. After that, the floodgates open. And guess what? ” He tapped his chest lightly. “Timer’s up. ”

The air thickened. For a moment, even Aris’s composure faltered.

Her eyes flicked to his sunglasses. “Then remove them. If you’re not a demon, prove it. Let me see your eyes. ”

Arata’s a dry tilt of the mouth returned, though faint, almost weary. “Bad idea. ”

“Why? ”

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “—Because if I show you, you won’t see a man. You’ll see a monster. And I don’t feel like getting stabbed in the back by the very people I’m here to protect. ”

The words hung heavy in the room.

Aris studied him, her gaze unblinking. Slowly, she leaned back in her chair. “—So you hide yourself behind shades, and expect trust from us. ”

“Trust isn’t what I’m asking for. ” Arata folded his arms, his grin sharp but tired. “All I want is a chance to fight. Put me on the field, point me at the demons, and watch. After that, you can decide whether I’m your enemy or your last hope. ”

Aris’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in her eyes. A thought she didn’t voice.

At last, she stood. “Very well. You’ll have your chance. But understand this—if you endanger my city, I’ll cut you down myself. ”

Arata chuckled as she left, leaning back in his chair. “—Fair enough. Though I’d like to see you try. ”

The door closed, leaving him alone with his reflection in the glass.

The night split open with sirens.

Floodlights bathed the outer walls of the city in harsh white, soldiers rushing into formation. Blades gleamed, shields locked, trucks rumbled into position. Beyond the barricades, the earth trembled. The sound came first—chittering, screeches, the pounding of countless feet.

Then the horde appeared.

A sea of creatures poured across the wasteland. Hulking beasts with jagged horns. Wolf-like monsters with too many eyes. Insects the size of horses, wings slicing the air. Shadows moved among them, darker still, whispers of something worse.

The soldiers braced, fear thick in their eyes.

Arata stood above the gates, crimson coat flaring in the wind. His sunglasses hid the blaze of his Draconic Eyes, but his let out a small, lopsided smile was sharp, alive.

The commander barked an order. “Hold the line. ”

The first wave slammed into the barricades. Steel groaned, shields buckled. Soldiers roared, blades striking. Claws met steel, teeth snapped against armor. The wall shook as the monsters swarmed.

Arata’s grin widened. “—Alright. My turn. ”

He leapt from the wall.

The air howled around him as he descended, silver hair whipping, katana flashing from its sheath.

The first row of beasts split apart before he even landed. Fire burst along his blade, the cut exploding in a line of molten death. Arata hit the ground in a crouch, the earth cracking beneath him.

The horde shrieked.

He stood slowly, katana resting casually against his shoulder. “—Anyone else want some? ”

They surged.

Arata’s Draconic Eyes flared, the world slowing to fragments. Claws, fangs, wings—every strike mapped out before it landed. He moved like a storm, his blade flashing faster than sight.

One beast lunged—he split it in two. Another swooped from above—he leapt, cleaving it from the sky in a burst of fire and wind. Three more closed in—he spun, earth surging beneath his feet, his blade carving arcs that shredded them into ash.

The battlefield lit with flame. Steam hissed, wind roared, stone cracked. Arata’s laughter echoed through the chaos, wild and fierce.

“Come on. You’ll have to do better than this. ”

Soldiers froze mid-battle, staring. The man who had fallen from the heavens cut through the horde like a god of war, his crimson coat trailing fire, his silver hair gleaming under the floodlights.

In minutes, the tide faltered. Dozens of beasts lay scattered, their bodies burned or broken. The survivors shrieked, retreating into the shadows, fleeing from the flame they could not consume.

Silence fell. The battlefield smoldered.

Arata stood alone among the corpses, his sword dripping molten blood. He flicked the blade once, the gore hissing as it burned away, then slid it back into its sheath with a clean click.

He shifted toward the stunned soldiers on the wall, raising a brow. “—What? Never seen a guy work overtime before? ”

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then—cheers erupted. Soldiers roared, blades raised, their voices carrying across the night.

Arata gave a faint smirk, but behind the shades, his Draconic Eyes narrowed. Beyond the horizon, the shadows hadn’t scattered. They lingered, watching. Waiting.

“—That was just the opening act, ” he muttered.

The gates opened. Commander Aris strode out, boots crunching against scorched earth. Her expression was unreadable, though her blue eyes burned sharp. The cheering quieted as she approached.

She stopped a few paces from Arata. The silence between them was heavier than the smoke.

“You did that alone, ” she said finally, her tone calm but edged with steel. “An entire horde, wiped out in minutes. My soldiers couldn’t even keep up. ”

Arata a dry tilt of the mouth faintly. “What can I say? I don’t do half shifts. ”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “That display—it was beyond human. Beyond anything we’ve seen, even from demons. So I’ll ask again—” She took a step closer, her voice lowering. “—what are you? ”

The soldiers leaned forward from the walls, the courtyard hushed.

Arata tilted his head, tapping the hilt of his sword. “—I told you before. I was human. Now? Let’s just say I’m the fire you’ve been waiting for. ”

“That’s not an answer. ” Her eyes narrowed.

He chuckled low. “It’s the only one you’ll get. For now. ”

Aris studied him, her jaw tight. For a moment, her hand twitched near the hilt of her saber. But then she breathed out sharply, stepping back.

“Fine. Keep your secrets. But hear this—” Her voice rose, carrying across the soldiers watching. “If you turn that power against us, I will cut you down myself. ”

Murmurs rippled through the ranks.

Arata slid his katana into its sheath with a clean click, his let the corner of his mouth quirk sharp. “—Fair warning. But I’m not your enemy. Not unless you make me one. ”

The tension hung thick, then broke as Aris pivoted sharply, signaling her troops.

“Clean the battlefield. Burn the remains. Double the patrols. The night isn’t over yet. ”

The soldiers scrambled into motion. Arata remained where he stood, the smoke swirling around him.

Behind the shades, his Draconic Eyes scanned the horizon. Beyond the wasteland, the shadows pulsed, darker and deeper. The horde had been only a fragment. Something far worse was waiting.

He let the breath go slowly, his grin fading into a quiet murmur.

“—This world has no idea what’s coming. ”

The days that followed were unlike anything the city had seen in years.

Word of the crimson-coated warrior spread like wildfire. Soldiers spoke in hushed tones of the night he fell from the sky. Civilians whispered in markets and alleys—some calling him a savior, others swearing he was a demon in disguise. Children drew crude pictures of him on the walls: silver hair, black blade, sunglasses too big for his face.

But awe was never far from fear.

Arata felt it in every glance as he walked the base. Soldiers stiffened when he passed. Some bowed their heads in respect. Others touched the hilts of their weapons, ready should he turn. He didn’t blame them. He was something else now—something they couldn’t name.

Inside his quarters, the walls felt like a cage. He lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling, coat draped across the chair. His katana rested within arm’s reach, always.

He thought of Miharu. Of Daichi. Of the friends he hadn’t sought out. Did they still think of him? Did they believe the dreams Selestia promised would reach them?

He rolled onto his side, eyes closing, but sleep never came.

Far beyond the city walls, in the carcass of a ruined metropolis, shadows gathered.

The streets lay in ruin, skyscrapers split in half, the earth cracked like old bone. At the center of the wreckage burned a black flame, and from it, figures emerged—demons, cloaked in flesh and human shape, their eyes gleaming with hunger.

One, taller than the rest, stepped forward. His form was human-perfect—handsome, smooth, but his grin was a predator’s. His crimson eyes gleamed in the dark.

“The flame has returned, ” he said, his voice smooth as silk, dripping malice. “So the angels kept their word. ”

Another demon hissed, claws scraping the concrete. “Then we should kill him before he gathers strength. ”

The leader’s grin widened. “No. Not yet. Let him show the humans what he is. Let him burn bright—so when we tear him down, they’ll see hope die with him. ”

The demons laughed, the sound crawling across the ruined city like knives on glass.

Back in the base, Arata sat upright suddenly, his Draconic Eyes flaring behind the shades. His chest tightened, flame coiling in his veins.

Something was watching.

“—Yeah, ” he muttered, gripping his sword. “They know I’m here. ”

Dawn bled across the city, pale light spilling over its steel walls. For a moment, it looked almost peaceful—smoke trailing from chimneys, merchants setting up stalls, children daring to laugh in the streets. But beneath the surface, tension hummed like a drawn bowstring.

In the base, the war room buzzed with voices. Maps stretched across the table, marked with red pins where monsters had struck. Commanders argued over patrol routes, supply shortages, and the creeping fear of another horde.

Aris stood at the head, arms folded, her expression carved from steel. When Arata entered, the room hushed instantly. Officers stiffened, some glaring, others averting their eyes.

He adjusted his crimson coat, sliding the sunglasses higher on his nose. “So, what’s the agenda? Demon-slaying 101? ”

Aris ignored the murmurs. “You claim to know what’s coming. Then tell us—where will they strike next? ”

Arata stepped forward, leaning over the map. His Draconic Eyes flared, veins of heat and shadow visible only to him. He tapped a clawed fingertip against a ruined district near the city’s edge.

“Here, ” he said simply.

The officers exchanged uneasy glances.

“And how do you know this? ” one demanded.

Arata’s thin smile faintly. “Because they’re already watching us. Trust me, I can feel it. ”

Aris studied him a long moment, then gave a curt nod. “Prepare the squads. If he’s wrong, we lose time. If he’s right, we may save lives. ”

The room moved into motion.

That night, the city trembled.

A scream pierced the air, sharp and sudden. Soldiers rushed through the streets, civilians scattering. In the chaos, a shadow slipped across rooftops—slender, silent, eyes glowing faint crimson.

An assassin.

It leapt from roof to roof, blade glinting black. Its gaze fixed on the base, on the commander’s quarters.

But before it could strike, the air shifted.

A hand caught its blade mid-swing, fire sparking against steel.

Arata stood in the moonlight, katana drawn, his crimson coat trailing behind him. His sunglasses reflected the assassin’s twisted face.

“—Nice try, ” he muttered.

The assassin hissed, form unraveling, shifting between human and demon. Its claws lashed out, teeth bared.

Arata’s grin widened. “Let’s dance. ”

The assassin’s body hit the cobblestones with a sickening crack. Smoke curled from the corpse as its human disguise peeled away, revealing twisted flesh, horns splintered, and eyes still glowing faint red.

Arata let the breath go, sheathing his katana with a clean click. His sunglasses hid the crimson blaze in his eyes, but his presence burned across the street like a beacon. Soldiers arrived seconds later, blades drawn, gasping at the sight.

“It was already inside the city—” one whispered.

Another shuddered. “It passed right through the walls—disguised. ”

Arata angled toward them, voice low but steady. “Yeah. And this won’t be the last. Demons aren’t just beasts—they wear our faces. Hide in our shadows. If you think barricades will keep you safe—” His let out a small, lopsided smile twisted sharp. “. you’re already dead. ”

The soldiers froze, exchanging uneasy glances.

From behind, Commander Aris arrived with her retinue. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on the smoldering corpse. “—So it begins. ”

Arata tilted his head. “You expected this? ”

“Expected? No. ” She stepped closer, her coat sweeping the ground. “But I knew the horde wasn’t their only weapon. They’re probing us, testing defenses. If one assassin reached this far, there will be more. ”

The soldiers shifted nervously, but Aris’s voice cut like steel. “Double patrols. Screen every checkpoint. No one enters the city without being verified. ”

“Yes, Commander. ”

As the troops dispersed, Arata leaned lazily against a wall, arms crossed. “Smart. But you’ll still miss some. ”

Aris shot him a sharp glance. “Then what do you suggest? ”

Arata gave a faint smirk faintly, tapping the rim of his sunglasses. “Leave the hunting to me. I see things your men can’t. ”

For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Then Aris nodded once, reluctantly. “—Very well. But if you’re going to hunt, you’ll answer to me. No rogue crusades. ”

Aris’s lips twitched, though her expression stayed hard. “Then prove it. Root them out before they root us out. ”