What We Sacrifice

The main spire of the Divine Monastery rose like a spear thrust into the heavens. Master Artificer Hattori climbed the final spiral staircase, each step echoing against the stone walls. Behind him, Inquisitor Hideo moved with silence, his presence a cold shadow against the warm amber of the torchlit corridor.

They emerged into the transmission chamber at the spire’s summit, a circular room with the central node suspended at its center in a lattice of copper and crystallized mana. From this singular point, the Kami’s Breath flowed outward through the air, channeled to every temple across Kinto.

A rapid knock at the chamber door preceded the arrival of an acolyte. “Master Hattori! Inquisitor Hideo! Urgent intelligence from the southern watchtowers!”

Hattori turned, his expression cool. “Speak.”

“The invaders are approaching from the southwest.”

Hideo’s hand drifted to the hilt of his blade. “Renji.”

“Yes,” the acolyte confirmed. “The Mad Magus leads them.”

Hattori pressed a talisman to his lips and spoke a single command: “Activate the rift breaker!”

The runes flared crimson, then dimmed.

***

The vault beneath the monastery was carved from living rock, its walls slick with condensation from underground springs. The High Priest stood at the edge of the central platform, his white vestments stained with moisture, his hands raised in supplication.

Before him, contained within a cage of binding runes and channeled mana, the Prime Rift pulsed with hostile life.

It was the largest dimensional tear in the known world, its edges crackling with shifting light. The air around it distorted, bending sound and space. Priests chanted in rhythm, their voices echoing off the walls, their words a constant pressure against the rift’s hunger.

The High Priest raised his hands, drawing threads of mana from the surrounding relics. “Direct it to the southwest. Let the void consume the heretics.”

The ritual reached its crescendo. The Prime Rift shuddered, its edges writhing like wounded serpents, and then above ground, the monastery’s spires began to glow.

***

The Veil Sealer Company marched toward the monastery’s southwestern approach. Renji saw the spires lighting up.

The monastery’s towers blazed with mana, casting long shadows across the valley below. Then the light shifted, coalescing into a vortex that spun above the Veil Sealer Company like a baleful eye.

“Everyone, brace!” Renji shouted. “The Friendship, target the sky above us! Now!”

The vortex erupted.

A massive rift tore open directly above the Veil Sealer Company, its edges screaming as reality ripped apart. Through the tear, Renji glimpsed the demonic dimension beyond.

“Fire!” Renji roared.

Gio operated the Friendship’s control array with precision. The device discharged a beam of concentrated mana directly into the rift’s core.

The beam struck, and the rift screamed.

Its edges writhed against the sealing energy. Dark tendrils lashed out, seeking purchase, but the Friendship’s light burned them away. The golden beam intensified, and the rift began to shrink, its surface closing like a healing wound.

The rift convulsed one final time and collapsed, its edges snapping shut with a thunderclap that echoed across the mountains. The sky above them was clear, the stars visible through the dispersing cloud of mana residue.

Gio exhaled. “Operation successful.”

“Good.” Renji turned back to face the company. “We advance on the monastery. We end this.”

***

Hattori watched the rift collapse from the transmission chamber.

“Impossible,” he breathed. “That damned boy and their damned machine.”

Hattori’s jaw clenched. “Commence the ritual. We’ll hit them again.”

“Master Hattori.” An acolyte’s voice wavered. “We need time to recharge the energy.”

A second tremor shook the monastery. Hattori felt a rift opening outside the monastery’s control.

***

In the monastery’s armory, dust motes danced in the torchlight as ancient relics lined the walls.

Hideo led Makoto to a pedestal at the chamber’s heart. Upon it rested a katana in a black lacquered sheath, its hilt wrapped in leather that pulsed faintly in the light.

“Kyoketsu-jin,” Hideo said, pressing the black-sheathed katana into Makoto’s hands. “Forged from the mana core of a vampiric bat. It will give you the strength to stop the traitor.”

Makoto’s fingers closed around the hilt. Power flooded through him, carrying a dark bloodlust that clawed at his mind.

“Lead an Oni-mask detachment,” Hideo commanded. “Stall the Veil Sealer Company at all costs. Kill the Mad Magus. Do you understand?”

Makoto nodded.

“Good.” Hideo smiled. “Go.”

***

Renji felt a distant distortion in the fabric of reality. He turned, his spyglass finding the southern horizon where dark clouds gathered with unnatural speed.

“It’s another rift,” he said, “near Nagashima.”

“The Veil Sealer can’t reach that,” Erika said. “It’s too far.”

“That wasn’t the monastery’s doing,” Renji said, lowering his glass. “The damage is spreading.”

“Then we must stop the ritual,” Elder Malin said. “The monastery is the source.”

Renji turned back to the road. “The rearguard handles Nagashima. Company marches on.”

They moved forward without hesitation.

***

Commander Takahara led a detachment of Guardian Knights positioned east of Nagashima, tasked with intercepting Amakusa’s rebel forces.

Before them, the rebel alliance had already formed ranks. Amakusa Aizen stood at their center.

“Sir?” his advisor prompted. “Your orders?”

“Wait,” Takahara said.

Then the sky tore open. The rift materialized above Nagashima City with a sound like the world ending, a jagged wound bleeding darkness into reality. Through it poured monsters, descending upon the city’s outer districts.

“Commander!” his advisor shouted. “Our orders are to punish the rebels!”

Takahara drew his blade in a single motion. “Our orders are to protect Kinto! Look at those creatures. That is our real enemy!”

He turned to Amakusa. “Rebel. I demand we cooperate for now to help the civilians.”

Amakusa inclined his head. “We are serving the Empire and its people.”

The Guardian Knights and the alliance forces charged together against the monster horde.

***

The Veil Sealer Company rounded the final bend in the mountain path. Arrayed across the trail stood a line of Oni-masks in black lacquered armor. Their blades were drawn, blocking the way to the monastery.

Makoto stood at their head.

Allied soldiers raised their weapons. Rifles leveled. Cannons swiveled.

Renji raised a hand. “Hold fire.”

He walked forward alone, Pochi on his hand, until he stood mere paces from his childhood friend.

“Makoto. Surrender now. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Makoto’s face twisted. “You always think that I am stupid, don’t you?”

“I always think of you as my brother.”

“You’re a ghost,” Makoto snarled. “Die, Renji!”

He lunged.

The cursed blade screamed through the air, its edge trailing ribbons of crimson light. Renji swung Pochi to meet the attack.

The wolf skull’s jaws clamped down on Kyoketsu-jin’s blade.

Then Pochi’s jaws snapped shut.

The cursed blade shattered like breaking bone, its fragments scattering across the ground. Dark energy bled from the broken pieces, dissipating into the night.

Renji’s left palm thrust forward. Lightning erupted, hurling Makoto backward into the Oni-mask line.

“Surrender now!” he shouted. “All of you! Drop your weapons!”

The Oni-masks hesitated. Their leader was down, their cursed weapon destroyed. Some looked ready to flee; others looked ready to fight to the death.

Makoto rose. Blood streaked his face, his armor cracked and smoking. His eyes burned with a madness that had nothing to do with the shattered blade.

“You’re a ghost,” Makoto shouted. “You’re supposed to be dead. You’re supposed to be gone. CHARGE!”

The Oni-masks surged forward, and the night erupted in fire and thunder.

Cannons roared. Rifles cracked. The armored warriors fell in waves, cut down before they could close the distance. When the smoke cleared, bodies lay scattered across the mountain path.

Renji walked among the fallen.

He found Makoto at the edge of the carnage, his body broken but his face peaceful. The frenzy finally faded, leaving only the young man Renji had once known.

He knelt beside him. Snow began to fall, covering the battlefield in white.

“You were never stupid,” he whispered. “You were loyal. There’s a difference.”

Makoto’s eyes stared at the darkening sky. Renji closed them with gentle fingers. He did not weep. Tears would be a luxury he couldn’t afford.

He rose, turning toward the monastery. The Veil Sealer Company reformed its ranks behind him. Renji shouldered Pochi and led the march forward.

The monastery loomed ahead, spires glowing with gathered mana. The snow fell harder, blanketing the dead. Renji did not look back.

“One step at a time,” he murmured.

The Divine Monastery waited.