The Red Festival

Fifty-seven minutes.That's how long Shinjiro had been under when his body suddenly convulsed, back arching off the floor, mouth opening in a silent scream. The red-slit pupils in his eyes flared brilliant crimson, and the scar on his chest began to bleed—not blood, but black water that smelled of rot and flowers."He's coming back!" the priest shouted. "But something's wrong—the anchor is burning!"Haruto looked at Shinjiro's hand. The soul anchor's roots had turned white-hot, smoking where they burrowed into his flesh. The ronin's skin was blistering, charring, but his body remained rigid, locked in whatever vision held him."Break the connection!" Haruto grabbed the priest's shoulder. "Pull him out!""I can't! The anchor has to release him voluntarily, and it's—" The priest's eyes widened in horror. "It's not just bringing him back. It's bringing something else with him."The shadows in the chamber deepened. The temperature plummeted until Haruto could see his breath crystallizing in the air. And from beneath the mandala, from the seal chamber far below, something began to rise.Not physically—this was spiritual, metaphysical, a presence that pressed against reality like a hand pushing through wet paper. The mandala's lines blazed with light, trying to contain it, but the presence was too strong, too ancient.It was the demon queen.Or at least, a fragment of her consciousness, pulled along when Shinjiro's soul returned from the forsaken road.The black water pouring from Shinjiro's chest spread across the floor, forming patterns, symbols, words in that ancient language:BARGAIN STRUCKTERMS ACCEPTEDTHE MAIDEN'S SUFFERING ENDSTHE QUEEN'S PRISON OPENSALL SOULS GO FREE"No," the priest breathed. "No, what did you do? What did you agree to?"Shinjiro's eyes snapped fully open—not red anymore but his normal brown, wide with terror. He gasped, choking, as if surfacing from deep water."Close it!" he rasped. "Close the connection! She's coming through!"The priest began a counter-chant, trying to seal the mandala, but the black water kept spreading. Where it touched the carved lines, they fractured, cracked, the containment breaking apart.Haruto did the only thing he could think of—he drove the guardian's sword into the mandala's center, into the exact point where Shinjiro lay.The blade's blue fire exploded outward, racing along the broken lines, burning away the black water. The presence below screamed—a sound that shattered two of the chamber's lanterns and cracked the stone walls—but it retreated, forced back by the sword's holy power.The connection severed.Shinjiro collapsed, the soul anchor's roots withering and falling away from his hand. He lay gasping, his skin pale as death, frost still clinging to his hair and clothes."What happened?" Haruto demanded. "What did you do?""I saw her." Shinjiro's voice was hollow, distant. "I walked the forsaken road, descended into the seal chamber's heart, and I saw her. The demon queen. Her true form." He shuddered. "She's beautiful. Terrifying. Ancient beyond comprehension. And she's been waiting. Planning. Every moment of her imprisonment, she's been preparing for this.""What did she offer you?" the priest asked, his voice hard."Everything. Freedom for the maiden—Yuki's soul would be released from the seal, allowed to pass on to whatever awaits beyond. Freedom for Tsukiko—" His voice cracked when he said her name. "—her sacrifice would be undone, her soul restored. Even freedom for me, an end to this half-death existence I've been trapped in for fifteen years.""In exchange for what?"Shinjiro met Haruto's eyes. "Three souls to replace the ones she releases. Three willing sacrifices to restructure the seal. Three deaths given freely to forge a new prison—one that doesn't require the maiden's suffering or regular renewal rituals. A permanent seal that would last until the end of time itself."The chamber went silent except for the drip of water from somewhere deep in the shrine."Which three souls?" Haruto asked, though he already knew."The guardian. The ronin. And—" Shinjiro's hand moved to his chest, to the demon queen's mark. "And the priest who tends the seal. Three bloodlines, three oaths, three deaths. That's the price for permanent peace."Priest Yoshimura's face had gone ashen. "She's trying to trick you. Demons always lie, always twist bargains to serve their own ends. Those three deaths wouldn't create a seal—they'd destroy it! She'd use our souls to shatter the remaining bindings and walk free!""Would she?" Shinjiro sat up slowly, wincing. "Because when I was there, in her presence, I could feel her truth. Demons can't lie in their own domain—it's a law of their nature. And she was... tired. Four hundred years of imprisonment, of feeding on Yuki's suffering and her own rage, has changed her. She doesn't want destruction anymore. She wants sleep. Proper sleep. The kind that comes when a prison is built not from pain but from willing sacrifice.""You believe her?" Haruto couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice."I believe she told her truth. Whether that truth serves us or her..." Shinjiro shrugged. "I don't know. But I do know that Tsukiko is dead. The seal is weakening despite her sacrifice. And we have less than three days before it fails completely." He looked at the priest. "Your granddaughter bought us time. Let's not waste it."A sound from above made them all freeze.Bells. Hundreds of them, ringing in unison, their chimes echoing through the shrine and down into the village below."What is that?" Haruto asked.The priest's face went pale. "The festival bells. They haven't rung in four hundred years—not since the demon queen's imprisonment." He moved to the chamber door, looking up toward the main shrine. "They only ring when—"The floor shook. Not violently, but rhythmically, like footsteps from something impossibly large walking beneath the earth."She's manifesting," the priest whispered. "The queen. Shinjiro's journey weakened the barriers between her prison and our world. She's using the opening to project more of her presence upward.""We need to get to the seal chamber," Haruto said. "Now. If she's breaking through—""No." Shinjiro grabbed his arm. "We need to get to the village. The queen showed me what comes next. It's called the Red Festival—a ritual celebration that precedes her awakening. The corrupted villagers will gather, and the seal will channel its remaining power through them, trying to sustain itself. If we can disrupt the festival, we can buy more time.""And if we can't?""Then the festival completes, the seal drains its final reserves trying to contain her, and she walks free twenty-four hours early." Shinjiro stood, swaying but steady. "She showed me this because she wants us to try. Because either we succeed and delay her rising, giving us time to consider her bargain, or we fail and she escapes immediately. Either way, she wins."The bells continued ringing, their tone shifting from chiming to something more sinister—a discordant clashing that set Haruto's teeth on edge.The priest was already gathering supplies—blessed salt, purification talismans, vials of holy water. "If we're going into the village during the Red Festival, we'll need every protection we can muster. The corrupted will be at their strongest, fully controlled by the queen's will."They armed themselves quickly. Haruto checked the guardian's sword, noting with concern that the blade's blue fire had dimmed slightly. Using it to sever Shinjiro's connection to the seal chamber had drained some of its power.As they climbed back through the shrine's levels toward the main entrance, Haruto couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap. Everything about this felt orchestrated, arranged. The timing of Shinjiro's return, Tsukiko's sacrifice just before, even the weakening of the seal—it all served the demon queen's purpose too perfectly.They emerged from the shrine into hell.The village had transformed. The crimson chrysanthemums weren't just blooming anymore—they were growing at visible speed, their stems twisting together to form archways and columns, creating a cathedral of flowers that covered the entire village square. At the center stood a structure that hadn't existed before: a massive throne carved from black stone, its surface covered in the same symbols that marked the seal chamber.And the villagers.Every corrupted soul in Kagura-no-Sato had gathered in the square, arranged in concentric circles around the throne. They swayed in unison, their movements synchronized, their mouths open in silent chanting. Flowers grew from every part of them now—emerging from eyes and mouths and wounds, rooting them to the ground, transforming them into living bouquets.Children stood in the innermost circle, their small forms barely recognizable beneath the crimson blooms. The girl-creature who had taunted Haruto was among them, her chrysanthemum tears falling like red rain."They're channeling their life force into the seal," the priest said, his voice shaking. "Offering themselves up to sustain it. This is the Red Festival's true purpose—a mass sacrifice to delay the inevitable.""Then why is the queen allowing it?" Haruto asked. "If they're strengthening the seal—""Because she knows it won't be enough." Shinjiro pointed to the throne. "Look. Really look."Haruto focused on the black stone structure. At first, it seemed empty, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw something sitting there—not a physical form but a shadow, a silhouette of impossible geometry that hurt to perceive directly. The shadow had the shape of a woman, beautiful and terrible, and it was watching the ritual with something like satisfaction."She's feeding on them," Haruto realized. "Even as they try to strengthen the seal against her, she's consuming their deaths, their suffering, their desperation. Growing stronger while the seal grows weaker.""Exactly." Shinjiro drew his sword. "The Red Festival is a trap. It makes the villagers think they're helping, that their sacrifice matters, when really they're just hastening her release." He looked at the priest. "How do we stop it?""The throne. It's the focal point, the conduit through which the queen channels her influence. If we can destroy it—" The priest pulled out a pouch of blessed salt. "—the ritual will collapse, and the villagers might snap out of her control. Might.""That's a lot of maybes," Haruto said."It's all we have."They moved toward the square, but the moment they stepped onto the flower-carpeted ground, the corrupted villagers turned as one to face them. The silent chanting stopped. The bells fell quiet.And then the girl-creature stepped forward, her voice layered with the demon queen's power:"Guardian. Ronin. Priest. You honor us with your presence at the Red Festival. We've been preparing such a celebration for your arrival." She gestured to the throne. "My queen wishes to speak with you. To make her offer again, now that you've seen what your resistance costs.""We're not interested in her bargains," Haruto said."No?" The girl tilted her head. "Even after sweet Tsukiko gave her life? Even after you saw her dissolve into light, her soul consumed by the very seal she thought she was helping? She's part of the prison now, trapped with the maiden Yuki, suffering together for eternity." The girl's smile widened. "Unless, of course, you accept my queen's offer. Three deaths to free three souls. A fair trade, don't you think?""Nothing about this is fair!" the priest shouted. "You twisted child, corrupted by powers you can't understand—""I understand perfectly, old man." The girl's voice was suddenly cold, ancient. "I understand that you raised your granddaughter to die. Fed her hope and purpose while planning her execution. And when she finally chose her own death, you cried. As if you had any right to grief. As if you weren't the architect of her suffering."The priest flinched as if struck."My queen offers something you never did—honesty. She wants freedom, yes. But she's willing to pay for it. Three lives for three lives. A bargain sealed in blood and made permanent by willing sacrifice." The girl looked at each of them in turn. "The guardian who carries an ancestor's guilt. The ronin who already died once and lives on borrowed time. The priest who has overseen this suffering for decades and done nothing to end it. Don't you want to finally be free?""This is a trick," Shinjiro said, but his voice lacked conviction. "Demons deceive. It's their nature.""Not in our own domain. Not when bound by blood oath." The shadow on the throne shifted, and suddenly a voice filled the square—not heard but felt, vibrating through their bones:I CANNOT LIE TO YOU NOW. THE RONIN OPENED THE PATH. WE SPOKE TRUTH TO TRUTH. I SHOWED HIM WHAT I AM, WHAT I WANT, WHAT I OFFER. AND HE KNOWS—AS YOU ALL KNOW—THAT THE CURRENT PATH LEADS ONLY TO MORE DEATH, MORE SUFFERING, MORE CYCLES OF SACRIFICE.The demon queen's presence intensified, and Haruto could almost see her—a woman of impossible beauty with eyes like dying stars and skin that seemed to shift between flesh and shadow.THREE DAYS UNTIL THE NEW MOON. THREE DAYS UNTIL THE SEAL FAILS AND I WALK FREE WHETHER YOU WISH IT OR NOT. BUT IF YOU ACCEPT MY BARGAIN—IF THREE OF YOU WILLINGLY GIVE YOUR LIVES TO FORGE A NEW PRISON—I SWEAR BY MY TRUE NAME THAT I WILL RETURN TO MY CHAMBER AND SLEEP FOR A THOUSAND YEARS. THE MAIDEN YUKI WILL BE FREED. YOUR TSUKIKO WILL BE RELEASED. AND THE CYCLE OF SUFFERING ENDS."And after a thousand years?" Haruto asked. "You wake up and we start this all over again?"AFTER A THOUSAND YEARS, I WILL BE DIFFERENT. CHANGED. THE RAGE THAT DRIVES ME NOW WILL HAVE COOLED. I MAY SEEK FREEDOM AGAIN, OR I MAY CHOOSE TO SLEEP LONGER. BUT THAT IS A PROBLEM FOR YOUR DESCENDANTS, NOT FOR YOU."At least she's honest about eventually wanting out," Shinjiro muttered.I AM A DEMON. I DO NOT PRETEND TO BE OTHERWISE. I HUNGER FOR FREEDOM, FOR POWER, FOR THE WORLD BEYOND MY PRISON. BUT I AM ALSO TIRED. FOUR HUNDRED YEARS OF RAGE IS... EXHAUSTING. I WOULD TRADE IMMEDIATE FREEDOM FOR RESTFUL SLEEP. FOR PEACE. FOR AN END TO THE MAIDEN'S SCREAMING IN MY MIND.The priest stepped forward. "If we refuse? If we destroy this throne and disrupt your festival?"THEN THE SEAL BREAKS IN THREE DAYS REGARDLESS. I RISE ANGRY, HUNGRY, VENGEFUL. I CONSUME THIS PROVINCE, THIS REGION, PERHAPS MORE BEFORE ANYONE CAN STOP ME. THOUSANDS DIE INSTEAD OF THREE. AND THERE IS NO GUARANTEE THAT WARRIORS STRONG ENOUGH TO CONTAIN ME AGAIN WILL EMERGE IN TIME.It was a choice between three deaths now and countless deaths later.Between sacrifice and slaughter.Between accepting a demon's bargain and hoping for a miracle that might never come.Haruto looked at his companions. The priest's face was haggard, aged beyond his years by grief and guilt. Shinjiro's expression was unreadable, but his hand kept moving to the scar on his chest, to the mark the queen had left when she resurrected him."We need to decide," Shinjiro said. "The festival is draining the villagers. If we wait too long, they'll die whether we stop the ritual or not."As if to prove his point, one of the corrupted villagers in the outer circle collapsed. His body dissolved into flowers and ash, his soul consumed by the ritual. Then another fell. And another.The Red Festival was killing them."Stop this!" Haruto shouted at the shadow on the throne. "Call off the ritual! You're murdering your own followers!"THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD. HAVE BEEN SINCE THE SEAL'S CORRUPTION TOUCHED THEM. I MERELY SPEED THEIR PASSING, COLLECT THEIR SOULS BEFORE THEY SUFFER MORE. THIS IS MERCY, GUARDIAN."This is madness!"THIS IS NECESSITY.More villagers fell. The circles were collapsing inward as the outer rings died. Soon the children would be next, sacrificed to fuel a ritual that served only to hasten the demon queen's freedom."We have to stop it," Haruto said. "Now. Whatever happens after, we can't let this continue."He raised the guardian's sword and charged toward the throne.The corrupted villagers moved to intercept him, but they were weakened by the ritual, their movements slow. Haruto cut through them, the blade's blue fire burning away the corruption, releasing their souls from the queen's control.Shinjiro and the priest followed, fighting their way forward. The ronin's blade moved with deadly precision, while the priest threw blessed salt and talismans that burst into purifying light.They reached the throne.Haruto raised his sword to strike the black stone—And froze.Standing between him and the throne was Tsukiko.Not a memory, not a vision, but her actual form—translucent and made of light, but unmistakably her. Her eyes were sad, pleading."Don't," she said. "Please, Haruto. Don't break the throne.""You're not real. You're a trick, an illusion—""I'm what remains of me. My soul, bound to the seal by my sacrifice." She moved closer. "I can feel it now—the seal's structure, its purpose. And I can feel the maiden Yuki, screaming beside me in the darkness. The queen is telling the truth. If you accept her bargain, we'll be freed. Yuki and I both.""And if we refuse?""Then we suffer for three more days until the seal breaks. And when it does, the backlash will destroy us both. Our souls will be torn apart, scattered. We won't even get to pass on properly."Behind Tsukiko, the maiden Yuki appeared—a woman who looked remarkably like Tsukiko herself, as if four hundred years had eroded the differences between them. She too was made of light, translucent, trapped."Please," Yuki whispered. "End this. I've been screaming for four centuries. Let me rest. Let us both rest."The throne pulsed with dark light. The demon queen's voice resonated through the square:CHOOSE, GUARDIAN. THREE DEATHS TO FREE THREE SOULS. OR KEEP FIGHTING AND DAMN US ALL TO A WORSE FATE. THE FESTIVAL ENDS IN MINUTES, WITH OR WITHOUT YOUR DECISION.The last of the corrupted villagers collapsed. Only the children remained standing, and they were beginning to fall too—one by one, their small forms dissolving into flowers.Haruto looked at his sword, at the throne, at the two souls trapped in light before him.At Shinjiro, who had already died once and lived on borrowed time.At the priest, who had spent decades tending a seal that demanded the death of his own granddaughter.At himself—a man whose life had been manipulated from birth to stand in this exact moment, sword in hand, faced with an impossible choice.Three deaths for freedom.Or three days until catastrophe.The guardian's sword pulsed in his grip, waiting for his decision.The Red Festival reached its crescendo.And somewhere in the darkness, the Shinigami Wraith watched and waited, patient as death itself, ready to collect whatever harvest came due.Three days.Three deaths.Three souls that might end four hundred years of suffering.Or damn them all.Choose.