The Night Before Dawn

The final night of the Samurai Examination fell like a heavy curtain of dread.

Midnight. The moment when fear became louder than steel.

The instructor, stood alone at the ruined village gate, arms folded, lantern flickering beside him. From the darkness of the surrounding woods, exhausted candidates limped out one by one defeated, wounded, mentally broken.

At least twenty students had already returned, heads lowered.

Instructor sighed, muttering to himself as he checked their names off the list.

“More quitters… as expected. But the others…”

He glanced toward the deep forest where the moonlight barely touched the twisted branches.

“I hope they didn’t see him. Or worse… try to fight him. Gods forbid.”

The wind carried a smell — blood, rot, and horse sweat.

Instructor tightened his jaw.

That meant he was still roaming…

the unknown life-or-death factor none of the candidates were prepared for.

The instructor didn’t dare go after him.

Deeper in the forest, a massive shadow sat unmoving on a boulder, illuminated only by the pale moon.

A humanoid figure, sitting on rock his posture relaxed as if sitting at home.

Beside him stood his horse.

A towering beast.

Its eyes dripped blood like tears.

Its ribs stuck out unnaturally.

Steam rose from its nostrils like smoke from a furnace.

The horse chewed loudly.

Wet, crunching sounds.

Strips of human flesh dangled from its jaws. Bones cracked between its teeth. A human hand fell to the dirt with a soft thud.

The shadowed rider didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Only watched.

Like a spectator enjoying a morbid scene.

Elsewhere across the massive forest-village territory, the strongest remaining examinees moved in silence.

Ryouma Kisaragi pushed past hanging vines, wiping blood not his from his blade.

His heartbeat slow.

Focused.

Eyes sharp despite exhaustion.

Kaede Fushimi, bow across her back, moved through the abandoned houses quietly, her steps as light and calm as a deer.

Tetsuya Inaba, carrying his oversized hammer dragging against roots, walking and calling monsters to fight. Every few minutes, he stopped to smash a lurking creature’s skull with one brutal swing.

Haruto Kanzaki, graceful and steady, wiped his katana and whispered prayers for every fallen candidate he passed.

Masaru Aizawa, smelling of dried monster blood, walked with a predator’s confidence.

Souta Hoshigaki, two knives spinning around his fingers, sitting in the shadows.

Night swallowed each of them as they traversed through the forest and ruined village alone, but aiming toward the same sunrise.

Around them, other candidates fought for their lives.

Some triumphed.

Others screamed as jaws closed around them.

The exam didn’t feel like a test anymore.

It felt like a graveyard.

Far from everyone, four lesser-known candidates trudged through the trees, barely able to lift their blades.

The forest suddenly opened into a small circular clearing — soft grass, a large boulder, moonlight breaking through the branches.

“Let’s… rest here,” one of them whispered.

“Yeah… just for a bit.”

They sat with their backs against the cool rock, weapons beside them.

The night was unbelievably silent.

Even the monsters hid.

The exhaustion was too heavy.

One by one, their eyes closed.

The forest breathed slowly.

Darkness deepened

The fourth candidate a skinny boy named Shouma stirred.

A sound.

A wet, ripping sound.

Then

A scream.

A human scream.

Close.

Shouma’s eyes opened slowly, foggy with sleep.

“What…? Who’s”

But as his vision cleared…

His breath stopped.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t even scream.

Right in front of him:

His three companions were lifted in the air 

their bodies twisted, missing limbs, blood spraying like fountains.

And the creature doing it…

Was a horse.

But not normal.

Its eyes glowed red, streams of blood running down its face like crying wounds. Each breath came out as a low demonic growl.

It was devouring the first candidate’s stomach.

Its sharp teeth like a wolf’s pulled out intestines in long, steaming coils.

It stomped candidate’s chest, cracking ribs like thin sticks.

His torso was already gone.

Shouma gasped, horrified.

The horse lifted its head slowly…

its mouth covered in blood and hanging meat…

…and turned toward him.

Red eyes locked with his.

Shouma couldn’t breathe.

“W-What… what are y”

Before he could finish

A cold hand clamped onto his shoulder from behind.

Shouma’s blood froze.

He turned slightly

And saw…

A skeleton-like arm.

Then

CRRKKK—SHHHK!!

A hand burst through Shouma’s back and ripped out through his stomach, sending blood spraying across the clearing.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

His eyes shook violently as he looked down at the bone hand sticking through him… dripping with his organs.

Behind him…

The shadow stood, hidden in darkness.

He whispered:

“Too weak.”

He ripped the hand upward 

Shouma’s body split open like a torn cloth bag.

The horse neighed violently, chewing on the remains of the other candidates.

The clearing went silent again.

Only the moon witnessed the massacre.

And the night before dawn

turned into a nightmare no one would survive…

except the strongest.

To be continue...