The descent from Black Peak was as silent as the climb had been. The dense forest pressed in around Ryuken and Ayame, and the pale light of dawn bled faintly through the canopy. Neither had spoken much since they left Takeshi’s shack, the weight of what they’d learned sitting heavily between them.

Ayame was the first to break the silence. “So, what now?” Her voice was casual, but her sapphire eyes glimmered with calculation as she studied Ryuken’s stoic face.

Ryuken didn’t glance her way, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “We’ll return to the village.”

“And then?” Ayame pressed, her steps light and soundless against the underbrush.

“We warn them.”

Ayame stopped walking, her hand reaching for Ryuken’s arm to halt him. “Ryuken, wait.”

He turned to face her, his dark eyes calm but questioning.

“Think about this for a moment,” Ayame said, her voice soft but firm. “If we tell the authorities, it’ll cause panic. People will turn on each other, suspecting corruption where there is none. And if word spreads, whoever’s behind this might realize we’re onto them.”

Ryuken studied her, silent and unmoving as she continued. “We’re the only ones who know about the regenerating bandits, the corruption, the Oni-kin. We should keep it that way for now. We can investigate quietly, track down the source, and deal with it before the entire village falls into chaos.”

Ayame’s tone was logical, and her reasoning sound. Her piercing gaze held his, confident and determined. “We’ve handled worse on our own before.”

For a moment, Ryuken said nothing, his expression unreadable. He admired Ayame’s cunning—her ability to think strategically and protect those around her in unconventional ways. But this was different.

“No,” he said finally.

Ayame blinked, her brow furrowing. “No?”

Ryuken’s voice was steady, resolute. “Keeping the truth hidden will only make things worse. The people have a right to know the danger they face.”

“And what if it’s too late by then?” Ayame challenged, her tone sharpening. “What if the village tears itself apart with fear? We’ll lose our chance to stop this.”

Ryuken shook his head. “The longer we delay, the more time the enemy has to spread their corruption. The village authorities can prepare their defenses, rally the people, and be ready for what’s to come. We can’t protect them by keeping them in the dark.”

Ayame’s eyes narrowed, a spark of frustration flaring to life. “This isn’t like you, Ryuken. You never trust people with things they can’t handle.”

“I trust you,” Ryuken replied simply, his calm words cutting through her doubt. “And I trust myself. But this isn’t just about us. This is about the village. If we face this alone and fail, the blood of innocent lives will be on our hands.”

Ayame’s shoulders sagged slightly as she sighed, crossing her arms. “You and your sense of duty,” she muttered, though there was no real anger in her voice—just resignation.

Ryuken placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch steady and reassuring. “You’re right to be cautious, Ayame. But people deserve the truth. We’ll face this together, with or without the village’s help.”

Ayame held his gaze for a moment longer before a small smile tugged at her lips. “You’re lucky I like that righteous streak of yours.”

Ryuken smirked faintly. “You remind me often.”

She rolled her eyes but fell into step beside him as they continued down the forest path. Though they didn’t speak further on the matter, the tension between them dissipated, replaced by the unspoken trust that had carried them through countless battles.

Later That Day – The Village Hall

The village hall was bustling with activity when Ryuken and Ayame arrived. Merchants argued over trade agreements, farmers discussed the coming harvest, and the guards loitered near the doors, their expressions bored.

Ryuken ignored the noise and strode directly toward the village elder—a tall, wiry man named Taro, whose graying hair and sharp gaze gave him an air of wisdom and authority. Ayame followed close behind, her presence turning heads as they passed.

Elder Taro looked up from a table of parchment as they approached. “Ryuken Kagehisa,” he greeted, his voice gravelly but measured. “And Ayame Mizuki. I didn’t expect to see you both here so soon.”

“We need to speak with you privately,” Ryuken said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Taro studied them both for a moment, then nodded. “Follow me.”

The elder led them to a small, quiet room at the back of the hall. Sunlight filtered through narrow windows, casting thin beams across the floor. Taro turned, crossing his arms. “What’s this about?”

Ryuken didn’t hesitate. “The bandits that attacked last night—there’s something wrong with them.”

Taro frowned. “Wrong?”

“They regenerate,” Ryuken explained, his voice calm but firm. “Even fatal wounds don’t stop them. We discovered that fire is effective, but it’s not enough.”

Taro’s face darkened, his arms lowering. “That’s… impossible.”

Ayame stepped in, her tone sharp. “Impossible or not, we saw it with our own eyes. These aren’t normal enemies. There’s something darker at play.”

Taro’s gaze flicked between them, searching for any sign of exaggeration or deception. He found none.

“And you believe this could be… what? A curse?”

Ryuken nodded slightly. “Something akin to demonic corruption. We sought counsel from a scholar who confirmed it. If we don’t act now, this corruption could spread.”

For a long moment, Taro was silent, his expression grave. Then he sighed heavily and sat down on a nearby stool, rubbing his temples. “You realize the panic this will cause, don’t you?”

Ryuken met his gaze evenly. “It’s better they panic and prepare than remain ignorant and die.”

Taro exhaled through his nose, finally nodding. “You’re right. This can’t be ignored. I’ll rally the guards and issue warnings to the outer farms immediately. But I’ll need your help, both of you.”

Ayame raised an eyebrow. “What kind of help?”

“If these creatures are real,” Taro said, his voice low, “then we’ll need warriors to fight them and leaders to keep the people calm. You two are both.” He paused. “I’ll trust your judgment. Just make sure this doesn’t spiral into chaos.”

Ryuken inclined his head. “We will.”

Taro rose, his demeanor resolute now. “Very well. I’ll see to it that preparations begin. And I expect you two to keep me informed.”

“Of course,” Ryuken replied.

As they left the hall, Ayame sighed, her voice tinged with reluctant admiration. “You just had to go and be the village hero, didn’t you?”

Ryuken glanced at her with the faintest of smiles. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Don’t count on it,” she teased, though her expression softened as she looked at him. “But for what it’s worth, you made the right call.”

They stepped back out into the village square, where life continued on as if nothing had changed. But Ryuken knew better. The shadows that loomed over the village were only growing darker. And the real fight had yet to begin.