Chapter 3: First Step Into Hell

The moment the three scarlet-sailed ships reached the shores of Crimson Eden, the air itself changed.

The wind no longer smelled like salt.

It smelled like iron and fresh flowers—a strange, sweet metallic mixture that made the skin prickle.

The trees along the shoreline glowed faintly, their leaves a deep, pulsing red as though veins ran through them. The roots twisted out of the soil like serpents, forming unnatural knots.

Some prisoners refused to step off the ship.

Ren did not hesitate.

His foot touched the sand.

The instant he made contact—

the ground pulsed.

Like a heartbeat.

He felt it beneath his sole:

slow, heavy, alive.

Yoruha stepped beside him, blade drawn.

“Stay alert. Everything on this island is hostile until proven otherwise.”

Ren looked around.

“Then nothing is proven otherwise.”

The other prisoners slowly walked down the gangplanks, chains clinking. The Yamibito executioners shadowed them with practiced discipline.

A tall man with long braided hair spat onto the sand.

“This is the place people call paradise? Looks more like a cursed graveyard.”

A woman wrapped in prayer cloth muttered, “This land… it watches.”

She wasn’t wrong.

It felt like a thousand unseen eyes hid behind the glowing leaves.

---

**THE FIRST RULE OF CRIMSON EDEN:

Do not trust the scenery.**

The official overseeing the mission gathered everyone on the shore.

He unrolled a map made of crimson parchment.

“This island twists constantly,” he warned. “The terrain may shift overnight. Landmarks disappear. Paths close.”

The prisoners murmured in fear.

But the official continued:

“Your task remains the same: retrieve the Crimson Elixir, believed to lie deep within the island’s center. Only one team needs to succeed. The others are…”

He hesitated.

“…expendable.”

One prisoner shouted, “So we’re just sacrifices?!”

The official didn’t respond.

His silence said everything.

Yoruha stepped in front of Ren.

“From here on, I am your shadow. If you run, I kill you. If I die, the others kill you. This is your final warning.”

Ren nodded, eyes calmly scanning the red forest.

“Understood.”

---

A sudden scream cut through the air.

One of the prisoners collapsed, clutching his ankle.

“What happened?!” a guard yelled.

The man’s leg was bleeding—

but no creature had attacked him.

Ren crouched beside him, inspecting the wound.

The sand…

was moving.

“…No,” Ren whispered.

“It’s eating.”

The “sand” around the man’s foot shifted like liquid.

Not sand at all — tiny crimson beetles, thousands of them, camouflaged as grains.

They swarmed up his leg.

“GET THEM OFF!” he screamed.

Two executioners sliced the insects away with swift, precise cuts, but the damage was done.

The prisoner’s ankle was eaten to the bone in seconds.

He passed out from shock.

Yoruha exhaled sharply.

“This is just the shore… and it’s already like this?”

Ren stood.

“No one said hell would wait.”

The official gestured to a nearby clearing.

“Executioners — pair off. The island scouting begins now. Your first objective: reach the Redwood Basin, two leagues inland.”

Ren and Yoruha moved ahead of the group.

As they entered the forest, the sunlight dimmed under the thick red canopy. Strange flowers glowed on the ground, releasing shimmering red dust that floated like fireflies.

Ren brushed one with the tip of his finger.

The petal immediately turned to ash.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

“Don’t touch anything,” Yoruha warned, tightening her grip on her katana. “We don’t know what reacts to blood, heat, or breath.”

Ren smirked.

“I’m not stupid.”

“As far as I can tell, you might be.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“…Is that an insult?”

“Yes.”

Ren chuckled.

It was the first time she’d spoken to him with anything other than strict discipline.

Before she could respond, a rustling sound echoed deeper in the forest.

Multiple shadows shifted between the trees.

Yoruha froze.

Blade raised.

Ren stepped forward calmly.

Large, misshapen figures emerged from behind the glowing foliage. Their bodies were fused with red crystal, their limbs bent at unnatural angles. Their faces were locked in expressions of horror…

Former explorers.

Turned into living stone-and-flesh hybrids.

Their mouths opened silently…

then their heads snapped toward the group.

Yoruha whispered:

“…They’re still alive.”

Ren’s eyes sharpened.

The Crimson Eden has already begun to feed.

The creatures charged as one.

Yoruha dashed forward, slashing with perfect precision.

Two heads fell instantly.

Ren moved beside her, chains still on his wrists but fluid like a dancer, slipping beneath claws, elbows, and jagged limbs.

He spun behind one creature and snapped its crystal spine with a single kick.

Yoruha stared, briefly stunned.

“…You’re fighting with chains on?”

Ren shrugged.

“I’ve had worse handicaps.”

The last creature lunged at Yoruha from behind.

Ren moved first.

In a flash, he ripped the broken chain spike from his wrist, hurled it, and pinned the creature’s face to a tree with brutal accuracy.

Silence returned.

Crimson leaves drifted down like falling embers.

Yoruha stared at Ren with a conflicted expression—

part admiration, part wariness.

“You fight like a demon.”

Ren met her gaze.

“I’ve been called worse.”

---

Suddenly—

A faint sound echoed through the forest.

A whisper.

Soft.

Human.

Familiar.

“…Ren…”

Ren froze.

Every muscle locked.

Yoruha noticed instantly.

“What is it?”

He didn’t answer.

The whisper came again.

“…Brother…”

Ren’s blood went cold.

His palms trembled.

That voice—

impossible—

it sounded exactly like—

His brother.

Ren dashed toward the sound.

“Ren! WAIT—!” Yoruha called, chasing after him.

But the forest twisted around them, trees shifting positions, roots moving underfoot.

The island was watching.

And it knew exactly how to lure him.