The storm that had once loomed in the distance now broke violently over the campus. Rain fell in sheets, streaking the windows of the training halls and drenching the marble courtyards. Thunder rolled like a war drum.
In the indoor combat gym—converted hastily to accommodate student drills—Miss Mizuki stood tall and strict, her black boots echoing with each step as she passed rows of students.
"Again!" she barked.
A dozen students fell into pairs, sparring without Venin—just form, reflex, and grit. Sweat mixed with rainwater dripping from their soaked uniforms.
Kazuki Tetsuya's fists blurred as he struck into padded gloves worn by Shouta Aoi. The rhythm of their punches was almost military.
"Harder," Kazuki growled, his eyes darker than usual. "You said you wanted to fight too, right?"
Shouta grunted, catching the blows with his palms. "You think I'm slacking? I could've knocked you out last week."
"Then do it."
"Don't tempt me."
In the corner, Erika Yui practiced water motion with Yume, slowly controlling droplets floating mid-air, but keeping them away from their opponent's skin—refining without triggering freeze. The control was precise, graceful.
"I hate waiting," Yume muttered, her usually dreamy eyes sharper.
"We're not waiting," Erika replied. "We're sharpening."
Across the room, Riku Tenma guided Kobito and Akiho Rei through tactical formations.
"Think like you're protecting a squad," Riku instructed. "Hollow Gale doesn't just fight with power. They use fear, terrain, and deception. We need to think around them."
Akiho raised his hands, floating fragments of metal scraps in mid-air, rotating them into a blade. Still small—but steadier than before. "They tortured Renn," he said quietly. "I want to know how to break them."
Kobito, silent for most of the drill, finally spoke. "We can't just chase revenge. That's what they want. We fight to protect the people they would target."
His voice carried through the gym, stopping a few students mid-motion. Shouta glanced up. Erika turned slightly.
Riku blinked, then smirked. "Looks like someone's getting good at speeches."
Kobito looked down. "That wasn't a speech. That was a promise."
Just then, the gym doors slammed open with a gust of wet wind. Rogiru entered—soaked, wearing a ridiculous frilly apron over his uniform and chewing on a steaming sweet potato.
"Ahhhh~ what gloomy children!" he bellowed. "You train too stiffly! Like frightened puppies chasing a tiger's tail."
Miss Mizuki folded her arms. "Principal Rogiru, we're trying to maintain discipline."
He licked his fingers. "Discipline is fine. But we train warriors, not robots. What's war without rhythm?" He tossed the potato in the air, caught it with his mouth, and then added with a sudden sharpness in his tone:
"They're coming."
The room froze.
Rogiru's eyes—suddenly glowing faintly red—scanned every student. "Hollow Gale has begun small tests on border villages. Probing. I have not stopped you from training because you must be ready. All of you."
"Even if they don't come for you," he said, gaze sweeping across the room, "they'll come for those you love."
Miss Mizuki added, her voice tight, "And the three who left without permission? They're either walking into that storm… or already inside it."
The tension broke with a single word from Kazuki: "Then we'd better catch up."
Rogiru chuckled. "You'll get your chance soon. Just try not to die too quickly. I'd hate to eat all this food alone."
As the rain poured harder against the windows and distant lightning cracked the sky once more, the students of Shinsei Combat Academy pushed harder. They weren't just fighting to catch up anymore. They were preparing to stand on the same field—one not meant for children or heroes, but for those willing to bleed to rewrite fate.
And in the shadows beyond the school, deep in cursed woods and secret fortresses, three names whispered louder through Hollow Gale's ranks:
Kaito. Taru. Renn.
Enemies stirred.
Old ghosts awakened.
War was drawing its breath.
Meanwhile – Somewhere Beyond the Northern Vale
The sky above the forest had turned a murky gray, weighed down by clouds that seemed to pulse with something more than weather—like the land itself was holding its breath.
Inside a ruined temple buried beneath roots and moss, the trio huddled near the dying embers of a fire. The cracked walls bore etchings of a language neither of them could read, but the symbols glowed faintly every now and then, responding to the Venin in the air—or perhaps to something older.
Kaito sat with his back against a cold stone pillar, staring at the flickering flames. His mind was still racing.
He kept replaying the fight in his head—the one with the scouts. The look in Taru's eyes when he recognized the crest. The way Renn's voice had wavered when he mentioned his brother. There was too much they didn't know. And worse—too much they were beginning to understand.
Taru was sharpening a broken dagger, the metal screeching faintly against the rock..
Renn lifted his head from his makeshift seat across the temple. The silence stretched for a moment.
Suddenly, a gust of unnatural wind swept through the temple, snuffing the embers. All three stood up instantly. Renn reached for his blade. Taru readied the half-sharpened dagger. Kaito steadied himself.
A figure stepped from the broken corridor—tall, wrapped in torn gray robes. A Hollow Gale scout—but not like the others.
This one had no mask.
His face was pale, veined with black marks that pulsed faintly.
"You don't belong here," the man said, voice eerily calm. "You've wandered where no light reaches."
Renn narrowed his eyes. "We're not here for sightseeing."
"Then you've come to die."
Without another word, the man lunged, faster than the scouts from before. He wasn't an ordinary soldier. His footwork was refined. His movements were surgical.
Renn intercepted him mid-dash, their blades clashing in a blur of sparks.
Kaito ducked the swipe of a secondary blade that extended from the man's sleeve and kicked him off balance while Taru came in low, slicing for the leg.
But the man twisted, using the momentum to flip backward and land without a sound.
"You're quick," he muttered, "but untrained. Still... I see why they want you alive."
Kaito blinked. "What?"
"They said bring one back breathing. I don't care which."
The fight resumed with brutal speed. This time, Renn didn't hold back. Wind crackled faintly around his arms—barely visible, shaped into sharp edges. But he wasn't using full Venin, only fragments. Enough to match speed without giving away all of his cards.
The fight stretched—grueling, tense.
Kaito watched for an opening, and when it came—a crack in the man's guard—he swept in low, shoulder-tackling him against a broken column. Taru followed with a stab that glanced off the man's armor, but it was enough to draw blood.
The man snarled. "So it's true... children with teeth."
Before he could vanish, Renn's hand closed around the man's throat.
"I've seen your kind," Renn whispered, eyes glowing with quiet fury. "You walk in shadows and call it strength. But you're just cowards pretending to be gods."
The man tried to spit in his face. Renn's punch knocked him unconscious.
Heavy silence followed. The temple crackled with energy.
"…Did he say they wanted one of us alive?" Kaito asked, panting.
Taru nodded. "Yeah. But why?"
Renn's gaze lingered on the fallen enemy. "They've started moving pieces. Hollow Gale isn't waiting anymore."
And somewhere deep beneath the stone, unseen by any of them, a glyph lit up—a glyph that matched the sigil Taru had found before.
The storm wasn't coming.
It had already arrived.
The forest no longer whispered—it watched.
The figure, half-wrapped in mist, did not flinch under their gaze. It stood unnervingly still, as though rooted into the earth like the gnarled trees around it. Not a Hollow Gale scout—no armor, no mask—just a long black cloak that fluttered gently as if moved by a different wind than the one brushing past Kaito's cheek.
Renn stepped forward, every movement controlled. "Don't blink. Don't speak. This isn't a scout."
Kaito furrowed his brow. "Then what—?"
"I've read about them," Taru murmured, clutching a talisman hidden beneath his collar. "They're called Whispers. Hollow Gale uses them to stalk and track… they don't fight. But they remember everything they see."
The figure tilted its head, eyes hidden in shadow, and Kaito's breath caught in his throat.
"Then we can't let it report," Renn muttered, suddenly launching forward like a shot of wind.
The Whisper didn't dodge—it simply faded. It melted into the fog like water spilled on ink, as though it had never existed.
"Gone," Renn hissed, fists clenched. "That thing is already heading back. They'll know."
"We have to move." Kaito's voice held urgency now. "Fast. If it's gone to warn the Hollow Gale, we've got hours—maybe less—before they send an elite unit."
Taru's expression darkened, the silver-blue in his eyes glinting with resolve. "Then we get to that outpost Akira marked on the map. There's a shrine there… a forgotten one That's where answers wait."
They took off running, the forest swallowing their footsteps but not their resolve. Each leap over tangled roots, each duck under a low-hanging branch, carried the weight of what came next.
They were no longer just three boys chasing truth—they were enemies of an entire hidden empire.
And the Hollow Gale was stirring.
---
Meanwhile, back at Shinsei Combat Academy...
The mood had changed.
Five days had passed with no message from Kaito, Taru, or Renn. The absence wasn't just felt—it was etched into the air like a cold pressure behind the lungs. Even Kazuki Tetsuya, who had been irritable and combative since their spar, had grown uncharacteristically quiet.
In the lounge, students gathered—Shouta, Himari, Erika, Akiho, Yume, and Kobito—alongside other classmates not previously close to the trio. Some stood, others sat stiffly, eyes fixed on Erina Yui, who sat in the center of the room like a crumbling statue.
"I… forged the letter," she confessed again, this time aloud to everyone. Her voice cracked. "I just wanted to keep them from doing something reckless. But it only made it worse."
Miss Mizuki stood by the window, arms crossed. Her usual strictness was replaced with a rare stillness. Principal Rogiru, who had remained hidden for most of the week, was nowhere in sight.
"They're not just missing, are they?" Erika whispered.
"No," Kobito answered, his voice unusually soft. "They're hunting something... or someone. And if it's who I think it is, then we'll be next."
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the hum of tension crawling under everyone's skin.
For the first time in over a year, the war room beneath the school grounds was opened.
A long obsidian table sat in the center, glowing lines of energy pulsing through it like veins. Around it stood the school's highest-ranking instructors: Captain Rino, still calm but grim; Miss Mizuki, arms crossed tightly; and two new instructors—Professor Higa, a former tactician with cold, calculating eyes, and Nora Izuki, the youngest Venin user to ever hold a defense post in the southern districts.
Principal Rogiru entered last, unusually serious—gone was the goofy demon mask of mischief. Now, he looked like the legend who once stood toe-to-toe with General Iman and survived.
He slammed a scroll onto the table.
"The boys have disappeared into territory marked with Hollow Gale activity," he said, eyes scanning each of the instructors. "Erina's confession confirms the letter was forged. Meaning, Kaito, Taru, and Renn left on their own... but not without purpose."
"They're kids," Nora said, her voice sharp. "We should bring them back and suspend all field activity. Hollow Gale territory is no place for—"
"They're not ordinary students," Rino interrupted softly, but firmly. "Each of them has shown control over Venin at a level unheard of for their age. If they chose to go, it wasn't blind."
Rogiru nodded slowly. "Which is why we're not sending a retrieval team… we're sending a backup unit."
That caused murmurs around the room.
Miss Mizuki stepped forward. "You mean—?"
"Yes." Rogiru looked toward the monitor beside the table, where profiles of students began to flash—Kazuki, Shouta, Himari, Erika, Akiho, Kobito, Yume, and others. "We select the strongest. Those who can keep up. They'll move under the guise of a survival field test. But their real mission is clear—find the trio, support them if needed… and uncover what Hollow Gale is planning."
---
Training Grounds – Next Morning
The school courtyard had never been this alive at dawn.
Kazuki and Shouta were already gearing up, each wearing newly issued combat uniforms. Himari adjusted her gloves while Erika packed emergency supplies. Akiho and Yume stood in silence, eyes focused. Kobito leaned against the wall, gaze distant—but present.
"I'm surprised you're coming," Kazuki said to Kobito.
"I owe Kaito," Kobito muttered. "He came to me when no one else did."
"And Renn?" Erika asked quietly.
Kobito didn't reply—but the look in his eyes was enough.
Principal Rogiru appeared atop the school steps, his voice amplified by an orb of wind.
"This is no test. No drill. No rankings to climb. You move as one—no ranks, no rivals, only survival. Your target is deep within Sector Blackroot, a forbidden stretch of Hollow Gale influence. You will face illusions, ambushes, and things your textbooks never dared describe."
He smiled faintly, a ghost of his usual grin. "Make your academy proud. And bring them home."
As the gates opened and the team of selected students began their march out of Shinsei Combat Academy, something had changed.
They were no longer just students.
They were a unit.
And the hunt for answers had officially begun.
The road to Sector Blackroot was nothing like the polished courtyards and training fields of Shinsei Combat Academy. It began with broken earth—roads forgotten by maps—and wound through tangled woods where even birds feared to sing.
Kazuki Tetsuya walked at the front, fists wrapped, gaze fixed forward like a warhound scenting blood. His usual arrogance was muted, replaced by a sharp, coiled tension.
"Does anyone else feel like we're walking into a trap?" Akiho Rei muttered, glancing at the way the branches above twisted unnaturally, like ribs of a sleeping beast.
"I feel like we are the trap," Yume replied calmly, pushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "They'll expect soldiers… not children with something to prove."
Kobito lagged a few steps behind, quiet, eyes scanning every movement of the forest. For him, this journey was personal. If the Hollow Gale truly had anything to do with his father—Iman—then answers might be ahead. Or death. Either was welcome.
Erika glanced at Himari and asked softly, "You okay?"
Himari nodded. "We're going to bring them back. That's what matters."
Shouta Aoi kicked a pebble forward. "Hope they're not dead. It'd be really annoying to do all this just for graves."
"Kazuki will make sure we find someone to punch either way," Yume said dryly.
He didn't deny it.
As the forest thickened, a light drizzle began to fall—just enough to shimmer the leaves, enough to awaken something primal in their nerves.
Then the first whisper hit.
A voice not spoken but heard in the bones.
> "Turn around…"
The group froze.
"It's an illusion," Akiho muttered. "One of the boundary markers. I read about this."
More whispers followed, crawling under the skin like centipedes.
> "Abandon hope." "Why do you bleed for ghosts?" "He will betray you."
"Block it out," Kazuki ordered, his voice like steel drawn. "Eyes ahead. No matter what you hear."
And so they marched forward.
---
Blackroot Threshold – Nightfall
They made camp beside a creek that smelled faintly of iron. No fire—too risky. Instead, they sat in silence, lit only by the moon's fractured reflection.
Kobito eventually spoke. "Why do you think they left without us?"
Kazuki didn't answer right away.
Then: "Because they wanted to protect us."
"Or maybe," Yume whispered, "they wanted to protect something in themselves."
The group fell into thoughtful silence.
Then a rustle.
All heads snapped toward the treeline. Blades were drawn. Powers subtly flickered.
But what emerged wasn't Hollow Gale.
It was… a boy.
Twelve, maybe thirteen. Ragged clothes. Pale skin. Eyes that had seen too much.
He collapsed.
Kobito caught him before he hit the ground. "He's burning up."
Akiho examined the boy's wrist. "There's a mark here. Hollow Gale's brand."
"He escaped," Erika whispered.
Kazuki stepped forward. "Then he knows something. We let him rest, and when he wakes up… we ask."
Shouta cracked his knuckles. "If he screams too loud, I'll shut him up myself."
Yume raised an eyebrow. "With a lullaby?"
"Or a left hook."
And so, beneath the ominous trees of Sector Blackroot, the team settled once more—now with a survivor in their midst.
What he'd seen might change everything.
Or doom them all.
The boy woke with a jolt, breath ragged, eyes wide with animal panic. He flinched at shadows, trying to crawl backward until Kobito gripped his shoulders gently.
"You're safe," Kobito said. "No one's going to hurt you."
The boy's voice came out cracked, as if his throat had been scorched. "They're watching…"
"We know," Yume said, kneeling beside him. "That's why we need your help."
He stared at her, confused. "You're… not like them. Not like the screaming masks."
Akiho passed him a flask of water. "What's your name?"
The boy hesitated. "Jin."
Kazuki crouched across from him, arms resting on his knees. "Jin… what did you see?"
Jin's eyes seemed to darken at the memory. "They took us… one by one. We were from a village outside the border. Said we had use. They ran tests. Spilled blood. Made people change—made them scream till their voices died."
Himari covered her mouth, pale. Erika leaned closer, her expression hard. "Tests for what?"
"They're looking for… something," Jin said slowly. "They said most of us were waste. They wanted resonance. Power that doesn't burn out."
"What do they want to do with it?" Akiho asked.
Jin looked at Kobito. "They kept saying his name."
The group went still.
"Whose name?" Kobito asked, voice low.
"Iman," Jin whispered. "But they said he wasn't in charge anymore. They follow something else now. Something worse."
Kazuki stood slowly. "Where are they hiding?"
Jin pointed east, beyond the ridgeline. "There's a facility underground. It looks like an old fortress… but inside, it's all machines and cages and people with eyes that don't blink. They're making something. Training children."
Erika's hands curled into fists. "Training them for what?"
"I heard one of them say, 'The next generation of Hollow Gale will be born in flame.'"
A chill passed through the circle.
Kobito looked to Kazuki. "We need to move."
"Not tonight," Akiho said. "He needs rest. And we'll need a plan."
"Plans are good," Shouta muttered, "but I say we burn them down before they know we're here."
Yume was still staring at Jin. "What did they call the facility?"
The boy's lips trembled. "Sanctum 13. The Hollow Cradle."
The name sent a shudder through the group.
Silence. Just the wind through dying leaves.
Then Kazuki turned, walking toward the dark horizon.
"We leave by dawn."
The wind howled between the trees like a mournful spirit, hissing past the worn statues lining the cracked path leading to the ancient shrine. Moonlight broke intermittently through the canopy, casting silver shadows across the moss-laced trail. Each step the trio took brought them closer to something unknown… but undeniable.
Renn's eyes narrowed as he came to a sudden halt. "Stop."
Kaito froze mid-step, his hand instinctively hovering near the hilt of his blade. Taru, sharp and aware, turned his gaze left—towards the clearing just ahead. They weren't alone.
A man stood at the base of the shrine's weathered steps, illuminated by a pale shaft of moonlight. No mask. No words. He wore a sleeveless cloak that rippled in the breeze, and beneath it, a lean but solid frame. Twin katanas sheathed at his sides. Orange hair fell messily around his face, but what stood out most were his eyes—serene, but simmering with something ancient.
"You followed a road meant to warn," the stranger said, voice smooth as steel on silk. "Not many pass through the Whispering Grove and come out alive."
"Who are you?" Kaito asked.
The man stepped forward, and the katanas at his waist clicked against each other like a promise. "My name is Kazan. Guardian of the Veil Shrine. Wanderers like you… usually don't make it this far."
Renn's gaze sharpened. "You're with the Hollow Gale?"
Kazan tilted his head. "I've worked with them. Fought against them. Survived them. But I belong to no one."
Taru shifted his stance, lightning tingling faintly along his forearm. "Then why stop us?"
Kazan smiled faintly. "Because you're not ready. And this shrine will kill the unworthy."
Without warning, Kazan drew both katanas in a single, fluid motion. Wind cracked through the clearing like a whip.
The fight began.
Kaito was the first to charge—his fists a blur. He swung low, driving his momentum upward with a rising knee. But Kazan sidestepped with almost lazy grace, his twin blades glinting as they traced an X in the air, forcing Kaito to retreat or be sliced.
Taru followed immediately, lightning sparking along his limbs. He vanished and reappeared behind Kazan, fire crackling in his left hand and lightning in his right. He thrust forward with both—an explosive pulse of dual elements.
Kazan twisted, slamming one blade downward to split the firebolt and raising the other horizontally to absorb the lightning's arc. Taru was pushed back, sliding across the earth with a grunt.
Then Renn moved.
He launched forward like a cyclone, his steps light but sharp—air condensing beneath his feet. A sudden gust blasted forward as he materialized above Kazan's blind spot, a wind-forged blade crackling in his hand.
Kazan deflected with the flat of his katana, but Renn didn't stop—he kept slashing, each strike faster than the last. His eyes were calm, focused—each movement honed, each breath measured.
For a moment, the forest was filled with only the sounds of steel clashing, wind roaring, and the ground trembling from raw force.
"You're good," Kazan said mid-parry, the corner of his mouth twitching in appreciation. "But not good enough."
He pushed Renn back with a sudden reverse spin, then vanished.
Kaito barely saw the blur of movement before Kazan appeared behind him, delivering a solid elbow to his ribs. Kaito gasped—but ducked and spun, sweeping Kazan's legs.
Kazan flipped in mid-air, landing on a branch above them.
"Coordinated," he said. "Still sloppy."
"Then let's tighten it," Taru said, and for the first time, the three synchronized.
Taru hurled a bolt of flame-laced lightning into the sky—an arc that twisted and split into sparks. Renn used the sparks, forming temporary wind platforms mid-air, leaping between them until he reached Kazan's height.
Kaito rushed the base, driving forward with a barrage of explosive punches—each punch cracking through the air. Kazan dropped down to meet him—blades spinning in a blinding dance—and the two clashed in a storm of movement.
Taru blinked between trees, using bursts of speed to throw off Kazan's peripheral vision. Then—at the moment Kazan parried a blow from Kaito—Taru struck from the side with twin flames on his palms.
Kazan grinned.
He dropped to a knee, swept Kaito's legs, and spun on his heel—dodging Taru's strike while slamming the flat of his katana into his ribs.
Both boys fell back—winded.
Renn landed behind Kazan, no words—just motion. He slashed downward in a spiral arc, but Kazan turned and blocked both wind-forged blades with the crossguard of his katanas, their auras clashing in a burst of light.
Then came a moment of stillness. Kazan stood, barely winded. Kaito, Taru, and Renn panted, bruised but burning.
"You have potential," Kazan said. "But potential doesn't keep you alive."
Kaito's eyes glowed faintly. Something inside him stirred—dragon-like, ancient. But not yet ready.
Renn wiped blood from his chin. "We're not done."
Kazan's smile faded. "No… you're not. Which is why I'll leave you alive—for now."
And with that, the shrine guardian vanished, like flame consumed by wind.
All three collapsed to the grass, breathing hard. But there was no doubt—they had passed some unspoken threshold.
The path ahead would only get harder.