Chapter 8 – Ruins of Shuten-dōji (IV)
Lucian emerged slowly from the temple's crumbling heart, the scorched floor beneath him trembling with every step. The sharp sting of cold wind bit into his skin, and for a brief moment, he forgot what warmth felt like.
Inside his chest… something had changed.
He wasn't sure if it was a power or a curse. Only that it had weight. Heavy, unrelenting, and old. Not just in years—but in meaning. Like he had inherited a storm rather than a sword.
The temple behind him let out a low, groaning sigh—its final breath—before a soft rumble rolled through the ground. Pillars collapsed. Golden light flickered and died. What once stood as a sanctum for a fallen legend now dissolved into a silent grave.
Lucian didn't turn around to watch it fall.
He just stood there.
Still.
Listening to the wind as it whispered something only he could hear.
"Legacy is not a torch passed freely. It is fire stolen from a dead god's hand—and it burns the one who dares hold it."
He didn't know if those words were Shuten-dōji's or his own.
Maybe it didn't matter.
All that power. All that destruction. And in the end… Shuten died alone, unmourned by history, but unbroken by time.
Lucian looked down at his hands. The trembling had stopped—but his veins pulsed differently now, like the world's rhythm had changed around him.
Something within was awake.
And it wasn't going back to sleep.
Footsteps echoed beyond the arch of broken stone.
Lucian turned sharply—his body tense, instinct coiled like a spring—but then relaxed as Kaiser stepped into view, lazily stretching and biting into some dark fruit that dripped with bitter juice.
"You look like you got run over by a god," Kaiser said through a half-smile. "Was it a fun ride, or… soul-crushing epiphany sort of thing?"
Lucian didn't respond right away. His eyes were distant.
"…It wasn't just a memory," he finally said. "It was him. I felt everything. Every scream, every drop of blood. That final stand…"
Kaiser stopped walking. He tilted his head, brows raising slightly.
Lucian continued, voice low. "He didn't die for anything. He didn't protect anyone. He didn't redeem himself. He just… refused. Refused to kneel. To break. Even when they tore him apart, he laughed in their faces. A monster until the end, but one that chose his ending."
Kaiser looked at him for a long moment, then exhaled.
"I get it," he said, unusually quiet. "Some people aren't born to be heroes. They're born to burn. And sometimes… that's all they know how to do."
Lucian's eyes flicked toward him. "Is that how you see him?"
Kaiser gave a small shrug. "Doesn't matter how I see him. You inherited it. Not me."
Silence passed between them.
The wind carried the faint sound of stone crumbling in the distance, as if the entire ruin was sighing in relief at being forgotten.
Lucian broke the silence. "I didn't want this."
"Didn't ask if you did."
"But I couldn't say no."
Kaiser smiled faintly. "You're not supposed to."
Lucian stepped forward, boots crunching on brittle gravel. His body still ached from the rush of foreign energy, like his nerves hadn't caught up to what he'd become. The shards of the crystal—the last remnant of Shuten's will—were no longer visible, but their presence hadn't vanished. They lingered inside him. Not like a system. Not like a stat boost.
Like an echo.
He reached the edge of a ruined platform overlooking the wasteland below. From this height, the entire field of blackened stone stretched out beneath him—silent, cursed, ancient.
A graveyard made by a single man.
Kaiser joined him after a moment, idly tossing the fruit core aside. "Feel heavier?"
Lucian chuckled dryly. "Like I'm dragging a second soul."
"That'll pass. Or you'll get used to it. Same difference."
Lucian's voice dropped. "Do you think… this place changed me?"
Kaiser didn't answer immediately.
Then: "No."
Lucian glanced at him, confused.
"I think," Kaiser said, "this place just showed you who you were going to become. Whether you like it or not."
Lucian stared at the horizon.
Then something shifted.
The world stilled.
A chill swept across the ruin—not the kind carried by wind or temperature. It was ancient. Ethereal.
Lucian's breath caught.
At the center of the shattered platform behind them, rising from where the temple had collapsed—
A shadow stood.
Human-shaped. Tall. Cloaked in red mist. And at its forehead… a single, obsidian-black horn jutted toward the sky.
The air thickened. Time held its breath.
Lucian couldn't move. His instincts screamed—but the figure did not advance. It simply stared.
And then… it spoke.
Not aloud.
Not with words.
But with presence.
"You carry fire that was never meant for this age."
"The world may embrace you now… but it will curse your name when the burning starts."
Lucian clenched his fists.
"What are you—?"
"A fragment. A stain. An echo… left behind so that you would remember."
Lucian took a step forward.
The figure tilted its head—and smiled.
A cruel, knowing smile.
Then it whispered—no, pressed—one final message into Lucian's soul:
"But beware… the one beside you."
"He is no child of this world either."
"He, too, is a fracture in the order."
And like smoke swallowed by the wind, the figure vanished.
Lucian stood there, frozen.
Kaiser said nothing. Didn't ask.
But he was watching. Carefully.
Lucian turned to him, eyes narrowed.
"…Have you ever felt like you were being watched? Judged by something older than gods?"
Kaiser raised an eyebrow, then stuck another piece of fruit in his mouth. "Buddy, that's just called being famous."
Lucian didn't smile.
Kaiser's grin faded slightly, but his tone stayed light. "Don't worry. If anything wants to judge you, it'll have to go through me first."
That made Lucian pause.
And finally—just faintly—he smirked.
The two of them turned toward the cragged path out of the ruins, the wind at their backs. The inheritance was done.
But the world was far from finished with them.
And deep beneath the ruins… a pulse echoed once, then stilled.
A lingering heartbeat from an era that refused to be forgotten.
To be continued...