The well behind the hall was older than the village around it. Moss clung to the stones like memories too stubborn to fade, and the wooden bucket, left overturned nearby, still carried the scent of cold iron and bitter herbs. Kento and I crouched low behind a row of stacked crates, breath held tight, the moonlight draping everything in silver.
"Last chance to back out," Kento whispered, adjusting the strap of his blade. "We could sneak off now, blame it on hallucinations and bad stew."
"Your stew jokes aren't getting better," I replied, though my hands were already sweating.
"They're not jokes. I still think they put something weird in that soup."
We moved silently through the shadows, circling the outer wall of the temple hall. There was a small, slatted side door near the herb garden—unlocked, to our luck or perhaps because no one expected trespassers stupid enough to return after sundown. The hallway beyond was narrow, lit by hanging oil lamps that sputtered faintly as we passed. The smell was worse here—an overwhelming blend of incense, smoke, and something faintly metallic.
We pressed forward, following a sound like humming. It grew louder as we descended a short stone staircase. At the bottom, the floor leveled out into a wide corridor carved directly into the hillside beneath the main hall. Carvings of abstract symbols marked the walls—spirals, flames, eyes, and something that looked like a lotus with teeth.
Kento pointed at it with a grimace. "If I ever get a tattoo, remind me not to let cultists design it."
We reached a wooden door reinforced with black iron nails. Light seeped from underneath—flickering, reddish. A chant echoed behind it, low and rhythmic.
Kento drew his blade.
I hesitated.
[System Notification: Side Mission Active – Observation Phase Engaged]
[Moral Sync: 58% | Lightning Principle – Reactive Morality Detected]
[Note: Actions taken during this sequence will permanently affect Kettai Pathing]
Fair enough.
We pushed the door open slowly, just enough to peer through the crack.
Inside, the chamber widened into a circular space filled with people in dark red robes. Candles lined the walls, dripping wax onto stone ledges like frozen tears. In the center stood a raised platform, and bound to it with cloth cords was a girl—barely older than ten. Her eyes were open, but dazed, and her lips moved as though she were trying to form words she couldn't remember.
The man beside her was the priest—Master Ensho, though the name sounded far too generous now. His robe shimmered with threads of gold, and in his hands he held a curved blade carved from white stone. He raised it slowly as he spoke.
"Let this soul serve the Nine-Fold Flame. Let her bones bear witness, and her blood renew the village…"
A sharp breath escaped me.
Kento touched my shoulder. "We have to act."
"Now?" I asked, my voice suddenly far too small.
"No," he said, drawing his blade with a grin. "I was thinking we wait until they finish the ritual and then politely ask for her back."
We burst through the door.
The cultists spun around, eyes wide, some dropping their candle trays with muffled clatters. One of them screamed. Another lunged at us with a staff, but Kento met him head-on, deflecting the blow and knocking him into a pillar.
"Apologies!" Kento shouted mid-duel. "Your religion just failed its inspection!"
I rushed toward the girl, slicing through the bindings as fast as my shaking hands would allow. She whimpered but didn't fight me. Her body was cold, her breath shallow. I pulled her behind me, backing toward Kento, who was now surrounded by three more cultists.
Ensho descended from the platform like a shadow with feet. His expression never changed. Not fear. Not anger. Just calm certainty.
"You do not understand," he said as he approached. "This girl is a key. A passage. The Flame has already marked her."
"She's a child!" I snapped, stepping between him and the girl.
"She is a bridge," he replied softly, raising the curved white dagger.
Kento parried another blow, but two of the cultists broke off and began circling toward me. I drew a shaky breath and prepared to defend myself. My grip on the sword felt wrong—too tight, too loose—my pulse roared in my ears. The system had gone quiet, but my instincts screamed.
[System Alert: Emotional Sync Rising – Courage Spike Detected]
[Technique: Inazuma Nuki Unstable – Awaiting Intent Lock]
I didn't see the monk move.
He came in fast, a blur of red cloth and gleaming ivory. I tried to block but he struck the sword from my hands with a twist of his wrist, then stepped forward to drive the blade toward my chest.
Panic froze my limbs.
"Kento!" I shouted.
Kento turned—too late.
I closed my eyes.
And heard a different voice.
"You two don't listen worth a damn."
The strike never landed.
Souta moved like lightning in human form. One second he wasn't there, the next he had one hand wrapped around the monk's wrist, the other driving a sharp, sudden elbow into his stomach. The cultist flew backward and hit the wall with enough force to leave a dent.
The room spun into chaos.
[System Notification: External Support Triggered – Intervention Logged]
[Mission Outcome Progressing Toward Success Threshold]
Kento burst into laughter mid-parry. "You came!"
"I counted five ways this would go wrong," Souta muttered as he stepped between us. "And you idiots managed to find a sixth."
He threw a smoke pellet to the ground, cutting off half the chamber in a haze of white ash. In the confusion, he struck three more cultists down with precise, controlled blows that left them gasping on the floor. Kento followed suit, grinning the whole time like he was in the middle of a festival brawl.
I recovered my blade and stood beside them, breath ragged, sweat streaming down my back.
[System Update: Side Mission Completion – Stage I: Secured]
[Map Fragment Unlocked – Kettai Scroll Location (Approximate Coordinates Uploaded)]
[Moral Alignment Strengthened – Lightning Path Stabilizing… 63% Sync]
We weren't just fighting now.
We were surviving.
And I wasn't alone.