Chapter 8 — The Wraith’s Lament

The forest refused to let them go.
Every step forward was haunted by whispers. Every shadow between the twisted trees felt alive.

Kohaku halted suddenly. His posture stiffened. Without a word, he raised his rifle and fired into the darkness.

BANG! BANG!

A shriek pierced the silence. From the mist emerged a figure cloaked in black smoke, its eyes glowing crimson. Its body was half-formed, as though it were made of shadows themselves.

The Wraith Beast.

Rika tightened her grip on her sword, but Kohaku’s voice cut through the air, heavy and unyielding.
“Stay back. Protect the child.”

Rika clenched her teeth, frustrated, but she gathered Tohka into her arms. Agnes stepped forward, her scanners glowing as she locked onto the creature.

The Wraith moved.

In a blur of shadow, it lunged, claws swiping through the air like scythes. Kohaku’s katana met the strike in a burst of sparks. CLANG! The ground split beneath their feet as they clashed.

The duel began.

Kohaku’s movements were sharp, deliberate—each strike of his blade cutting through smoke and shadow. But the Wraith was fast, its body shifting unnaturally, avoiding lethal blows. It darted behind him, claws grazing his armor, whispering with a thousand voices.

“Join us… suffer with us…”

Kohaku ignored it. His blade flashed, forcing the beast back. Yet the Wraith reformed, hissing, circling for another strike.

“Target is resistant to standard steel,” Agnes reported calmly. “Analyzing… analyzing…”

Kohaku ducked a slash, rolled, and in one fluid motion hurled a cylinder from his belt.

FLASH!

The forest exploded in white light. The Wraith screamed, its form flickering, smoke sizzling like flesh against fire.

Agnes’s voice sharpened. “Confirmed weakness. Heat and light cause destabilization of its form.”

Kohaku didn’t hesitate. His katana ignited in a sudden blaze, flames crawling along the blade like a living serpent.

Rika’s eyes widened. “…A flame mode…?”

Kohaku stepped forward. No words. Only fire.

SHHHRAKKK! The flaming katana carved through the Wraith, searing its smoky flesh.
SCREEEE! The beast shrieked as its form began to unravel, burning from within.

Kohaku pressed the assault, every strike merciless. His flames tore away the darkness until, with a final, perfect arc—

SHHHHRRAAAK!

The Wraith collapsed, splitting apart. From its dissolving body rose countless shimmering orbs of light—souls, freed from its prison.

They drifted upward, glowing softly as they ascended into the sky.

“Thank you…” whispered voices, fading as the last of them vanished into the heavens.

Tohka stared, tears in her eyes. But among the freed spirits, her parents were not there. Her heart ached—but it meant they were still alive.

The forest quieted. The mist thinned. Sunlight pierced through the trees for the first time in years.

Agnes adjusted her scanners, a faint smile touching her lips. “Signal detected. Survivors ahead. This path will lead us out.”

When they emerged from Aokigahara, the sight stunned them. Dozens of survivors stood waiting—men, women, children—faces filled with awe.

And there, rushing from the crowd, were two figures.

“Tohka!”

Her parents embraced her tightly, tears streaming down their cheeks as they kissed her hair. Tohka clung to them, sobbing. “Mama… Papa… I was so scared!”

She pulled back, her little hands pointing to Kohaku, who stood in silence a short distance away. “He saved me. He fought the monster. He’s the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

The survivors turned their eyes to the masked man. Some whispered. Others bowed their heads in gratitude.

But Kohaku said nothing. He only watched, his crimson eyes glowing faintly through the visor of his helmet.

Rika placed a hand on Tohka’s shoulder, smiling gently. “You’re safe now. Stay with your parents. Cherish them.”

Tohka nodded, though her eyes lingered on Kohaku. In her heart, a seed was planted. One day… I’ll be strong like him. I’ll become a Survivor.

As they prepared to depart, Tohka and her parents waved, voices carrying through the air.

“Thank you! Thank you, Lone Wolf!”

The crowd joined them, survivors raising their fists, chanting.

Kohaku turned away, silent, as if the praise never reached him.

The forest was behind them. But the road ahead—to Kyoto, to even greater battles—was only beginning.