"Okay, I'll talk. You don't need to stare at me like that," Shinjimaru grumbled, looking away from Afro's bright golden eyes. "What are you, anyway? I carried you under the sun and you didn't burn."
Himari stepped forward, interrupting Shinjimaru, and held out her open hand to the thief. "I'm angry with you, Mr. Shinjimaru."
Shinjimaru sighed and handed her the bag of coins he had stolen. Afro flicked his black claws from his fingertips. The sound of his nails tearing through the air made the thief recoil.
"See, Himari? Not only is he drunk, he's a thief," said Afro. His stomach growled, a guttural sound that sounded like a growl. "Let me feed on him."
"Stop, Father!" cried the girl, stepping between them.
"That's right, 'stop, Dad'!" exclaimed Shinjimaru, trying to gain space. "Or whatever your name is... Ebony Man, what is your name anyway?"
"I'm not your father," replied Afro. He raised his arm with force, and Himari, clinging to his bicep, was lifted off the ground.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Shinjimaru ran toward the open window. Himari let go and fell back onto the floor. In a movement that none of them could follow with their eyes, Afro appeared in front of the window, blocking the exit. He closed his large hand around Shinjimaru's neck and lifted him up until the thief's feet dangled in the air.
"I'm going to feed on you," hissed Afro.
Violent knocks echoed on the bedroom door. "Is everything okay in there?" shouted a thick adventurer's voice.
Shinjimaru struggled and managed to let out a cry: "HELP! THIS MAN IS A..."
Afro smashed his free palm against Shinjimaru's mouth, muffling the sound. On the other side of the door, the man insisted: "What did you say? It sounds like he's being..."
Himari quickly got up, brushed the dust off her kimono, and ran to the door. She opened it just a crack, blocking the view inside with her body.
"Yes, sir?" she asked, forcing herself to sound calm.
The adventurer was massive, with a shaved head and bare chest, dense musculature covered with scars from old claw marks and cuts. He wore only reinforced leather pants and a belt laden with pouches. On his back, he carried a long double-handed sword, made for brute force and reach. He tried to peek over the child's head. "We heard screams. There was an invasion of demons on the roof a moment ago. We want to check the rooms."
Shinjimaru managed to pull Afro's fingers back a millimeter. "Demon! He's a demon!"
Afro gnashed his fangs, fury vibrating in his arm muscles. "You'll see the demon soon enough," he growled, tightening his grip on Shinjimaru's neck.
The adventurer forced the door open and entered the room with his hand on his sword hilt. He saw Afro holding Shinjimaru against the wall. Afro's claws and fangs had retracted out of survival instinct, but the pressure on the thief's neck was obvious.
"What's going on here?" the man asked.
"Family problems, sir," Himari interrupted, leaning against the door. "Do you think there are demons here? Look at us."
The man was not convinced. He removed a small leather bag from his waist. "Divine Powder," he announced. He opened the bag and blew a cloud of fine white powder throughout the room.
The silence was absolute. The powder floated in the air. If there had been any trace of active demonic energy, the powder would have reacted by igniting instantly. Afro smelled the acrid scent of the substance. His predator's nose wrinkled, his nostrils flaring like those of a rabid dog.
"Atchoo!" Afro sneezed violently, scattering the dust around him.
The substance remained inert. There was no fire, no sparks.
"See? Zero demons," said Himari, pointing to the exit. "Now, please, let us resolve our issues."
The adventurer put the bag away, frustrated. "Be careful with the noise. Next time, I'll come in with my blade drawn."
He left and closed the door. Shinjimaru began to cry softly as air returned to his lungs. Himari forced Afro to let go of the man.
"He's a good person, Father!" she cried, her eyes moist.
Afro let go of the thief and collapsed to the floor. His skin trembled with cold sweat as his human consciousness tried to tame his demonic instincts. Shinjimaru, still catching his breath as he sat, looked at Afro's right arm, the limb that had suspended him by the neck, and recoiled in terror.
Afro's right arm was on fire from the remnants of Divine Dust in the air. It was no ordinary fire; a black, internal combustion emanated from the skin, as if the demon's energy was trying to break through the flesh. The heat was real.
"Oh my God! Your arm... it's on fire!" Shinjimaru screamed, crawling to the farthest corner of the room.
Afro didn't answer. The burning pain mixed with the corrosive hunger. In a desperate move to stabilize his system and lower his body temperature, he removed the bandages from his left arm. He revealed old, deep scars, marks from other crises. Without hesitation, Afro sank his teeth into his own flesh.
He began to suck his blood hard. The hot, metallic fluid was the only thing capable of deceiving his stomach and silencing the monster inside. As he drank from himself, the black flames on his right arm began to fade, turning into nothing but smoke and burnt skin.
Himari ran and handed him the plate of cold food left over from the afternoon. Afro, his chin stained with his own blood, looked at the plate with disgust. In his current state, human food had a nauseating smell, but he forced himself to chew out of respect for the child. Every bite tasted like ash, but he swallowed, forcing his body to accept that inert mass.
His mind refused to process the scene. The burning arm, the man sucking his own blood, the hunger of a demon contained by superhuman effort, none of that disturbed him as much as Himari's calmness.
The girl moved with terrifying serenity. She didn't tremble, she didn't cry, she didn't look away. For her, this horror was not a crisis; it was routine.
"What is normal for this child?" Shinjimaru thought, his stomach churning. "How did she end up here? What kind of hell shaped this girl's eyes so that she sees a monster flagellating himself and only thinks about giving him a plate of food? Why does she call a demon her father? I'm dreaming... this has to be a nightmare."
As he lost himself in this abyss of reflection, the silence in the room changed in weight. Shinjimaru felt their gaze. Afro, his chin still stained with blood and his right arm smoking, and Himari, standing beside him, stared at him with an expression of almost awkward expectation. It was the silence of those waiting for a promised answer... They wanted the three ways to erase the memories of the Mask.
Shinjimaru swallowed hard, realizing that his life depended on that information. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and began:
"Okay, I'll talk." Shinjimaru cleared his throat, trying to regain his dignity. "To erase the memory of this mask, you need the blue fire..."
Afro and Himari nodded at the same time, in a mechanical and dry gesture. They already knew. That was why they had come to that village. Shinjimaru felt like an idiot; his bargaining chip was obvious to them.
"Right... You already know," he continued, embarrassed. "And that blue fire appears because..."
"I just want to know how to get there," Afro interrupted. His voice was a low growl, coming from a throat that still tasted of blood.
Shinjimaru sighed and pointed to the massive silhouette that cut across the horizon outside.
"Every six months, the sky unleashes an absurd thunderbolt that strikes a dry tree made of pure mineral, right at the summit. It is this impact that generates the blue flame. It does not last forever; it is a finite resource that shines for a short time before going out."
He approached, lowering his voice.
"Up there, it's chaos. You find all kinds of scum and elite: mercenaries, imperial samurai, demons, and so on. But there's one rule that no one dares break: don't destroy the mountain. If the Sentinel's structure, I mean if the mountain collapses, the core dies and the flame never returns. Even the Empire respects that."
Shinjimaru drew a triangle in the air with his finger.
"The hierarchy is simple and brutal. The weak and the cowards stay here in the village, protecting the perimeter against possible invasions or hunting down those who try to escape with remnants of the flame. The strong? The strong are up there killing each other. The higher you climb, the more the air smells of death. The level of power increases with every meter of altitude. They fight without big explosions. It's technical carnage."
He stared at Afro.
"The thunder will strike the dry tree soon. People kill themselves up there just to be inches from the flame when it is born. You have to take it before it goes out, or your effort will have been nothing more than assisted suicide."
Afro stood up. His right arm was still smoking slightly, but his golden eyes were fixed on the summit.
Afro took his bandana and tied it over his eyes, adjusting it above his eyebrows. The gesture was a sign of closure; the time for conversation was over. He turned his face to Himari. She, realizing her father's intention, shook her head negatively.
Afro sighed. "It seems Himari really liked you," he said, turning to the thief. "Listen here..."
"My name is Shinjimaru Ensho, but you can call me Shinji," the man interrupted, trying to gain some familiarity. "Go on... You never smile."
"I'm not going to kill you," Afro said, ignoring the attempt at closeness. "But I won't let you go free either. You saw what you shouldn't have."
In one swift motion, Afro grabbed Shinjimaru's forearm. Before the thief could react, one of Afro's black claws sliced clean through his skin. Blood spurted out immediately. "Now I've marked you. My sense of smell will always know where you are. There's nowhere in this country you can hide from me."
Afro looked at Himari. "What about the bad guys?" he asked. Himari nodded. Yes. "Now go to sleep," Afro ordered. The girl obeyed, retreating to the corner of the room.
Afro turned to Shinji, his voice cold as iron: "You will leave through that window now. You will run through the streets and, with your own blood, you will mark the men you think should die. I will not ask questions. I will only come to kill and eat. Mark them all, Shinjimaru, be my hunting dog, Shinjimaru. Serve me, your kind, or die... Shinjimaru!"
Shinjimaru did not wait for a second order. He jumped out of the inn window and started running in the cold dawn. His breath was heavy, his heart beating fast against his ribs. He looked at the cut on his arm, the blood still fresh. "Ensho... better, Yuki," Shinji muttered with a glint of vengeance in his eyes. "I'm going to mark you. You won't leave this village alive."
While Shinji marked the doors and railings with drops of blood, Afro remained seated in the room. He fought against sleep to prevent the demon from taking complete control during unconsciousness. He took out the book D Afro and opened it to a specific page.
The diagram showed the flow of energy through channels that Afro could not fully activate. "This only happens because the human side uses the demon side as fuel," thought Afro, his ebony face fixed on the illustrations. "If I could read this... Dao Circulation in Hybrid..."
Outside, the smell of Shinji's blood began to spread in the early morning breeze. The feast was ready.