The Dragon and the Maiden

The damp corridor led into the darkest depths of the Demon Realm, reeking of blood and rot. Dusty bones of some ancient mammals and exoskeletons of extinct bug yōkai were embedded in the stone walls. The empty eye sockets of their skulls leered at Kenzō, sending chills down his spine.

One would think they’re dead, and yet their filthy energy pervades this realm! He snorted, glaring at the remains. He hurried onwards, his heart filled with apprehension. No human can survive long under such pressure. I must find Yumi and fast!

But at one point, he was compelled to stop again. A great stone wall stood firm before him, splitting the tunnel into two. A crossroad such as this wasn’t an obstacle for Kenzō’s half-dragon senses. He felt the presence of life – human life – from the tunnel on the left. But he lingered before the wall, staring at it, transfixed. His dragon blood boiled with ancient hatred, predating his birth.

A gigantic exoskeleton of a crimson arachnid was embedded in the wall, its empty eye sockets filled with malice. Its muscled tail coiled menacingly. The latter had a pointy tip, which, in the creature’s lifetime, should’ve produced deadly venom. But that wasn’t its only weapon. Two sharp pincers, which Kenzō loved in his crab yōkai subordinates, protruded from the creature’s arms.

Kenzō’s nostrils flared, emitting vapours. He clutched the hilt of his sword defensively, although he knew the creature was long dead, like the rest of its brethren.

“A Flame Scorpion,” he muttered with disgust.

His father, Dragon God Dairyū, and some water dragon gods from the continent exterminated these creatures many millennia ago, making the earth more habitable for humans. Flame Scorpions had been demonic beings of immense firepower, no less menacing than the fire dragons of the far west – Kenzō’s distant relatives. However, while some western dragons became benevolent over time and earned the titles of gods, Flame Scorpions remained hostile to humans. Therefore, the water gods put an end to their existence. Now, Kenzō faced the remains of one of them – the mortal enemy of his father – and felt as though its hatred seethed through his skin, despite its lifeless state. But he stood firm and returned a glare to the exoskeleton, unbending to its demonic pressure.

“Dead as you should be.” He snarled.

He turned away from the wall, returning to his mission. After all, a friend in danger was more important than a dead enemy. He swerved to the left, whence he felt a human’s presence, and hurried through the tunnel. He passed several barred cells, where skeletons of different yōkai and even some humans were left to rot. They must’ve been the nine-tailed fox Kinnoko’s and her clients’ past victims. Kenzō gritted his fangs as he glimpsed them chained up to the stone walls, many of them having traces of torture.

“Hey, who goes there?” A loud, bestial snarl came from the shadows ahead, catching Kenzō’s attention.

Twenty large ogres – nine blue, nine green, and two purple – emerged from the dark, dressed in crude pelt and holding iron clubs. They must be a part of Kinnoko’s army, in charge of the dungeon. They seemed unaware of what had transpired in the hotel above – that the rest of their army was annihilated alongside their mistress – for they appeared relaxed and even a bit drunk. They gaped at Kenzō, who had stopped and observed them with his reptilian rainbow eyes.

“W-What the hell is a dragon doing here?” One of the ogres blurted. He burped, the stink of beer and blood emerging from his mouth. “I thought they couldn’t come to the Demon Realm!”

“He reeks of a human, though.” The largest, most powerful purple ogre raised his club, glaring at Kenzō. He grinned with his bloody fangs. “I say we eat him!”

The ogres cheered, raising their clubs and spears. Kenzō didn’t speak, only placed his thumb under the hilt of his sword and pushed it out of its scabbard. His expression darkened, his pupils narrowing to slits. His eyes were so cold now that they seemed to be made of vitrage glass. His crystal blade shimmered in the dark, startling the ogres, who didn’t expect a Kagurayama sword in the Demon Realm.

Kenzō coated his sword with a torrent of water, jumped forward and appeared at the largest ogre’s side. The latter snarled and swung his iron club, but Kenzō met it with his crystal blade. There was a swish and a clang, then silence. The ogre leader stood still, his eyes empty. Before his subordinates could even blink, his body split into two clean cuts. The blood gushed out, forming a puddle under his feet. There, the two lifeless body parts collapsed with a splash.

The ogres roared in horror now. Some panicked and ran off; the others dashed at Kenzō. He swung his sword with sharp, precise motions, almost like dancing, and diced the beasts into pieces. He went after the runaways and sliced them apart like the rest of their brethren, not letting a single one get away. All the while, he stayed cold, with the corners of his mouth lowered. It was unlike his gleeful frenzy in the hotel when he tortured Kinnoko and her tanuki subordinate, Shintarō. He’d been happy back then. Now, he wasn’t.

After he finished with the ogres, Kenzō shook his sword to get the filthy blood off its tip and sheathed it. He turned his back on the bloody corpses and hurried on through the tunnel. He emitted hot vapours with his every breath – the only sign of his seething anger. This was the testament to a human heart beating inside his chest, for otherwise, he resembled his dragon father. Just like Dairyū Ōji no Kami, he would go on a clinical killing spree instead of having a raging fit. Due to this exact reason, he fell in love with video games – there, he could butcher the “enemies” to his heart’s content, without upsetting his human family. At other times, demons were the obvious target, like now.

At last, Kenzō reached the cell where he felt the human presence. He halted and looked inside. It was dark and damp like the rest of the tunnel. The sight of the wall opposite the bars made Kenzō’s blood boil. His pupils narrowed, and a snarl escaped his lips. A fresh corpse was chained there, of a petite green-haired girl not over fifteen, with her heart torn out of her bloody chest. Her blue eyes, still open but soulless, and her contorted face displayed the horror and agony she must’ve felt in the last moments of her life.

Flashbacks came to Kenzō’s mind of the dreadful day ten years ago when Kazuya and Kasane lost their parents. He remembered his mother, Nene Kagurayama, weeping in his dragon father’s arms shortly after the latter returned from the God Realm. After all, Kazuya’s and Kasane’s father, Detective Jin Hattori, was Nene’s cousin, akin to an older brother for her. Kenzō, too, saw Kazuya and Kasane as his siblings and loved Uncle Jin and Auntie Ameko. Now, seeing the young girl’s corpse, he recalled how Ameko Hattori’s body had the same mark on her chest, with her heart ripped out. Moreover, she had had green hair like this girl. Kenzō connected the dots.

Grassy green hair is the shared trait of the Hanabira Clan. He thought, unsheathing his blade. And the Takahata case from yesterday, which Kazu and Ginrei mentioned at the dinner table… It means the monster from ten years ago has reemerged. Judging by this poor girl’s corpse, that beast must’ve been here recently!

The scraping of his blade against its sheath made someone flinch at the left of the cell. Kenzō looked at the dark shadows there. He discerned another girl chained to the wall, battered and bruised. She was alive, to his relief, for he’d been looking for her – Yumi Shinemori, the police chief’s daughter. Kenzō recognised her blazing red hair. Unlike her long, bushy hairdo from their childhood days, she wore a bob with a messy crown bun on the top of her head – a weird teen fashion statement. If it were some other occasion, Kenzō would’ve laughed at it, but he had no time for fun now. He swung his blade, broke the bars open, and stormed inside.

“Yumi!” he called, snorting vapours from his nostrils.

Yumi turned her head towards him. Her golden eyes carried the sorrow of a youth who had undergone terrible tragedies in mere minutes, shattering her rosy worldview too fast for her to process it. A tinge of joy lit her eyes when she saw Kenzō, whom she recognised despite not seeing him for years. His rainbow eyes, purple braid, and pearl-and-crystal earrings were unmistakable. She felt butterflies in her stomach – the revival of her childhood crush, coated with some new, fiery passion. Tears of joy gushed from her eyes.

“Kenzō…” she muttered, smiling through her tears. Kami-sama has answered my prayers…

One swing of Kenzō’s sword broke the chains that bound her hands. Yumi plunged at him and sank her face into his chest, breaking into sobs. Kenzō wrapped his sturdy arms around her, returning the gentle embrace.

“We’re all here, Yumi,” his high-pitched, tinkling voice whispered in her ear, heartwarming. “Kazu, Kasane, and even some of their friends have come. We’ve defeated all the demons here. You’re safe now.”

Yumi didn’t reply but continued wetting his chest with tears, the horror and agony of the past few hours overflowing inside her. Kenzō fell silent, letting her cry in his arms. The divine dragon energy that seeped through him comforted Yumi. In the fantasy books she had read, knights in shining armour would save the heroines from ruthless dragons’ clutches. But Yumi had never liked those knights. She had preferred the “ruthless” dragons ever since her childhood. Now, her favourite dragon had come to save her in the Demon Realm, certifying the righteousness of her preference.