The bells of mourning still echoed in Yoriichi's heart.
But now, the fire in his eyes burned with purpose.
The village that once slept in peace was now plagued by darkness. The elders whispered of missing children, of livestock found gutted in the fields, of red-eyed silhouettes lurking at night.
Yoriichi did not wait for orders.
He simply picked up his blade—and walked.
Night fell.
And the demons came.
The first one lunged at him from the treeline, a twisted beast with blades for arms. Yoriichi didn't blink.
"Sun Breathing, First Form – Flame Halo Dance."
A single arc of heat. The demon's head fell before it even realized it had been struck. Its body ignited in golden flames, reduced to ash under the moonlight.
From the rooftops, two more descended—fangs bared, blood dripping from their claws.
Yoriichi spun midair.
"Second Form – Solar Flash Thrust!"
A blinding spear of light pierced both of them through. They wailed, but he had already moved on.
The forest behind the village became his battlefield.
He carved a path through darkness.
A demon that split into three?
"Fourth Form – Blazing Mirage." He outpaced them all, burning each copy to cinders.
One with hardened skin like iron?
"Fifth Form – Radiant Finish." His blade glowed with celestial heat and severed it at the core.
Blood sprayed. Ash rose. But Yoriichi's eyes stayed calm—resolute.
When dawn finally came, seven demons had fallen. The ground smoked with remnants of his fury.
Villagers emerged from their homes, stunned.
And there stood Yoriichi, sword at his side, face tilted toward the rising sun.
"The light has returned," whispered an elder.
But Yoriichi said nothing.
He had only just begun.