Chapter Twenty-Five:

“The Twin Fangs”

Morning crept into Luna Bay, the relentless storm of light still waging war against the heavens. John woke to the steady pulse of the barrier overhead, its glow slicing through the slatted windows of The Drifting Lantern. The distant hum of cannon fire had settled into an eerie rhythm, like the tide crashing waves along the shore.

He sat up, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders, and glanced around the room. Akira was reclined against the far wall, arms folded, his breath deep and measured. Kimiko and Hideo remained curled up near the fire, their tails twitching in unseen dreams. Their slow, rhythmic breaths rose and fell like the tides. Their soft whiskers twitched with each breath, reminding John of Yumi's when she had first dozed off, that night felt so distant now. It was a small, almost endearing detail that made them seem even more at peace despite everything. Their tails flicked occasionally in their sleep, ears twitching at unseen sounds, fully at ease despite the weight of the day ahead.

John ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. Today was going to be a long one.

Stepping through the door to his room’s private balcony, the scent of salt and damp wood hit him immediately. The lantern-lit beaches below were sparse, a ghost town occupied only by those who refused to run. Fighters, survivors, the last remnants of Luna Bay’s defiance. Across the way, perched on her own balcony, Elder Warabi sat sipping from a bowl of steaming broth. Her golden eyes flickered to him, something unreadable but amused in their depths.

“Sleep well?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

John leaned against the railing. "Yeah… for the first time in a while, I did."

She chuckled. “Then you’re one of us now.”

She gestured to the village. Even in the shadow of its inevitable end, life still flickered—a merchant securing his wares, a blacksmith tending to a blade, a soldier staring at the sky, waiting.

“They don’t even notice it anymore,” John murmured.

“They do,” Warabi corrected, setting her bowl aside. “They’ve just learned to keep moving.” A pause. “That’s why the warrior who drove the corruption from Luna Bay did what he did. So we could keep moving.”

John’s gaze followed hers to the cliffs in the distance, where the path to the cove lay waiting. The legend of the Broken Fangs burned in his mind. If Warabi’s words held truth, those blades had once belonged to the last protector of Luna Bay—blades that had failed him, yet held the darkness at bay for generations.

A presence stirred behind him. John turned to see Akira, now fully awake, adjusting his bracers as he stepped outside.

“You’re up early,” Akira noted.

“Could say the same for you.”

Akira’s movements were measured now, more composed, the fire from yesterday tempered into cold steel. “Rest clears the mind.” He stretched one arm. “But we have work to do. Those blades won’t recover themselves.”

John smirked. “I thought you were convinced they were haunted?”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

Kimiko emerged, stretching with a lazy yawn, ears twitching at the breeze. “You two already starting?”

“Just a friendly discussion,” Akira replied, his tone smooth.

Kimiko raised a brow. “Sounds more like a bet.”

Akira turned to her. “Care to make it interesting?”

Kimiko grinned. “What are the stakes?”

John shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “No stakes. Just a retrieval mission.”

She gave a faux pout. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Hideo appeared, fastening his armor with a ritualistic efficiency.

Elder Warabi stood, brushing the creases from her robes. “The path to the cove is not forgiving. But if you return with the Broken Fangs, perhaps there is hope yet.”

John nodded. There was no turning back now.

Akira’s gaze flicked to the cliffs. “Then let’s not waste time.”

The path to the cove twisted along the cliffs, each step taking them deeper into the unknown. The storm above rumbled like a slumbering beast, lightning flashing in eerie bursts across the blood-red sky. Below, the waves crashed against jagged rocks, white foam spraying like the breath of some unseen sea-serpent waiting for them to slip.

John felt the thrill of the journey in his bones. He rolled his shoulders, loosening his muscles. "Alright, let’s see what all the fuss is about."

Akira shot him a sidelong glance, adjusting his katana. "Don’t get cocky. We have no idea what we’re walking into."

"I think it’s too late for that," Kimiko mused, ears flicking toward the distant howls of the wind. "He’s practically glowing."

Hideo huffed. "He should be. This place is alive. I can feel it."

And John could, too. The deeper they went, the more the land itself seemed to hum beneath his feet, whispering with the voices of those who had fallen before. The air thickened, not just with moisture, but with something unseen—an unshakable presence that clawed at the edges of his senses, waiting. It wasn’t natural—it was old, powerful, watching them. The kind of place where history lingered in the air like smoke from an extinguished fire.

Their supplies were meager—two HP Potions, one MP Potion, three SP Potions, one Antidote, and the Tent John bought with Yumi. Not much. But enough, they hoped.

The first attack came fast.

Without warning, the still pools along the path erupted, sending a writhing mass of Abyssal Eels lunging toward them. Their bodies pulsed with bioluminescent light, twisting unnaturally as they struck, their fangs dripping venom.

John barely had time to react before one latched onto his arm. The burning sensation of being poisoned seared through him. [Status Effect: Poisoned. -5 HP per second.]

"John, Antidote!" RW’s voice crackled.

He gritted his teeth, materializing the antidote with a thought and downing it in one motion. The burning sensation dulled instantly, but the fight wasn’t over.

Akira moved with lethal grace, his katana flashing in expertly placed arcs, severing eels before they could strike. Kimiko and Hideo worked in tandem, their claws ripping through the creatures, their bodies a blur of motion.

John tightened his grip on his sword and rejoined the fight. [-10 MP, Foxfire Strike!] His blade ignited with spectral blue flames, cleaving through the remaining eels. The final one let out a keening screech before collapsing into the water, dissolving into luminescent mist.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Panting, John wiped sweat from his brow. "Alright… I’m starting to see why no one’s come to get these things."

Kimiko flicked her ears, tail lashing once. "Then let’s be the first."

Akira only sheathed his blade. "That was just the start."

They pressed on, deeper into the cavernous maw of the cove. Their footsteps echoed, swallowed almost instantly by the oppressive weight of silence. The walls here weren’t just rock—they were scarred, carved with ancient symbols, some half-eroded by time. This place had seen bloodshed before. And it was waiting for more. The air thickened, heavy with moisture, and an eerie silence fell over them. The only sound was the dripping of water against the ancient stones.

Then came the second trial.

A massive shape shifted beneath the floor’s wet surface, rising like a ghost from the deep.

The crab-like beast, its massive claws snapping with a force that could break bone. Its shell gleamed like wet obsidian, its eyes black pits of hunger.

"Hit the joints!" RW called out. "The shell’s too strong!"

“Yum, I love crab.” Kimiko said before darting in first.

She moved fast, but the crab was faster. With a brutal swipe, it caught her mid-motion, sending her crashing into the rocks.

"Kimiko!" John moved without thinking, he extended his hands forward [Foxfire Shield, -20 MP!] Blue flames erupted in front of her, blocking the creature’s next attack just in time.

[Ability Discovered: Foxfire Shield]

Akira and Hideo attacked in unison, targeting its vulnerable leg joints. With each expertly placed strike, cracks formed along its exoskeleton. The crab screeched, ichor spilling from its wounds.

John saw his chance. He dashed forward, using the momentum of his leap to drive his blade straight into the beast’s exposed underside. [Critical Hit! -40 HP]

The crab convulsed, then collapsed into the water with a final, echoing splash.

They barely had time to catch their breath before the third and final trial revealed itself.

The water surged. Something massive stirred beneath them.

A deep, guttural growl reverberated through the cavern.

That’s when the serpent rose.

Its massive, scaled body unfurled like a storm made flesh. Eyes like molten gold fixed on them, unblinking. Venom dripped from its fangs, hissing as it met the water.

"This must be the final trial," Akira murmured, tightening his grip on his blade.

The serpent struck with terrifying speed. The group scattered, barely avoiding its lashing tail. It let out a deafening hiss, summoning more Abyssal Eels to swarm them.

"Focus on the head!" Akira shouted.

John summoned every ounce of strength he had left, but the serpent was fast, and his muscles were heavy. Its tail lashed out, striking him square in the chest. [-50 HP]

John hit the ground hard, his grip loosening, one of his blades skidded across the wet stone, coming to rest just inches from the serpent’s coiled mass.. His vision blurred for a moment, the weight in his chest making it hard to breathe. [Item Used: HP Potion. +100 HP] The warmth of the potion spread through him, dulling the worst of the agony, but his limbs still felt heavy, sluggish from the constant strain that had drained his SP.

Pain radiated through his ribs as he forced himself up. His muscles burned from exertion, every step feeling like wading through deep water. [Item Used: SP Potion. +100 SP] Energy surged back into his limbs, sharpening his focus just as the serpent coiled for another attack. The serpent’s eyes burned into him, its fangs poised for the killing strike.

He had one chance. One blade.

He thought of Yumi, of the light in her soul, and the warmth of her Foxfire. It was her Foxfire that he wielded now. He looked over at Akira. He was tired, hurt, put against unthinkable odds, yet he still stood strong. It was his willing to teach that gave John the strength growing inside him as well. Thinking of his two new friends, his new family. Something he couldn’t even remember if he ever had. He felt it growing deep inside begging to be released.

[Skill Combination Discovered: Foxfire Barrage!]

His blade ignited, he spun towards the giant serpent, his spectral blue flames trailing in wide, sweeping arcs. He struck—again and again, his body moving on instinct. [-1000 HP X5, Critical Hits!]

With a final, agonized cry, the serpent collapsed, its body disintegrating into glowing embers.

And silence fell over the cavern.

John barely noticed his HUD flashing. [+2000 EXP, LEVEL UP! John Lvl. 2, Akira Lvl. 2]

At the heart of the chamber, bathed in an haunting glow, lay the Broken Fangs. Ancient, and worn by time, they carried the weight of battles long past. A katana and a tanto, pristine despite the centuries, humming with an unseen power.

Akira’s eyes lingered on the weapons, but only for a moment before he turned away. He would never part with his Sensei’s blades—not for anything. These were not his to wield.

“My master poured her blood, tears, and sweat into forging these blades I wield. I would never give them up for someone else’s old relics. I believe they are meant for you.”

“Awww, I just bought the Moonlit Echoes.”

John stepped forward, his hands trembling as he reached for them. But the moment his fingers brushed the hilts, a force slammed into his chest.

He staggered back. The cavern walls pulsed, the air thick stagnant heat. A barrier—an unseen force rejecting him. A test.

Akira narrowed his eyes but made no move to help. This was John's fight.

John gritted his teeth and stepped forward again. The force pressed harder, trying to crush him. It wanted him to submit.

He thought of his new family. All the new friends he had made, and he refused.

Pushing through with sheer force of will, he grasped the swords. The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilts, fire ignited beneath his skin. The ancient steel trembled, shifting beneath his grip. The jagged edges melted away and the tanto grew in length, the steel screaming as it was reborn in a swirl of blue flame. The cavern trembled, reacting to the shift—acknowledging the birth of something new. The weapons no longer bore the weight of failure. They had chosen their new wielder. They had become more than legend.

The Broken Fangs were gone.

The Twin Fangs had awakened.

The path back to The Drifting Lantern was eerily quiet. The battle still clung to them, the scent of salt, sweat, and faint embers lingering in their clothes. John adjusted the Twin Fangs on his back, the weight feeling right, like they had always been there. He wasn’t the same as when he left. None of them were.

And yet, as they neared the inn, something shifted.

Massive, horse-sized wolves loomed in the mist, their hulking frames barely visible through the dense fog.

John halted. A shiver crawled down his spine. Kimiko, Hideo, and Akira slowed beside him, eyes narrowing. He swore he could hear their slow, measured breaths, the mist curling around their massive forms.

"What the hell are those?" John muttered.

No one answered.

The air was thick, heavy. John’s reached for the hilts of his blades, but after a long, tense moment, the figures didn’t stir. Whatever they were, they weren’t hostile. Just waiting.

"We’re too tired for this," Hideo said finally, his voice unreadable. "Inside. Now."

They didn’t need to be told twice.

The moment they pushed through the doors of The Drifting Lantern, warmth embraced them. The scent of sizzling meat and aged sake filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of conversation. The glow of lanterns cast flickering shadows against the wooden walls, making the space feel alive, a welcome contrast to the lifeless cavern they had just escaped.

Laughter greeted them before words did.

"Finally! Took you long enough."

Yumi was already seated at a low table, her legs tucked beneath her, a fresh cup of sake in her hand. Rai leaned back beside her, arms crossed, looking as if she’d been waiting for hours.

John blinked. "How the hell did you—?"

"We had a ride," Yumi said casually, gesturing toward the door. "You saw them, didn’t you?"

John exchanged glances with the others. The wolves, towering and broad as warhorses, their presence still lingering in his bones. Their presence still lingered in his bones.

"Those were yours?"

"Not ours," Rai corrected, smirking. "But they were willing to carry us."

John let out a breath, rubbing his temples. "Sure. Okay. Why not."

Akira chuckled, rolling his shoulders as he took a seat. "We’ll figure that mystery out later. Right now, we drink."

The celebration wasn’t wild, but it was right.

They ate, they drank, they talked. Kimiko and Hideo replayed the battle with exaggerated gestures, teasing John about his near-death experience before grudgingly admitting that his final strike against the serpent was impressive.

Yumi and John sat close, not needing words. There was something about surviving together that made explanations unnecessary.

Eventually, the night wound down. The warmth of sake and exhaustion began to settle in.

John stretched, pushing away his empty plate. "I think it’s time to call it."

Kimiko yawned, tail flicking. "About damn time."

Hideo didn’t argue. He simply stood, rolling his before disappearing toward their room. Kimiko followed, giving John a final smirk before disappearing after her brother.

Akira downed the last of his sake, throwing the empty cup over his shoulder. He met Rai’s gaze, studying her for a fraction longer than usual before speaking. "Night cap?"

Rai arched a brow, amused. "That an invitation?"

Akira gave a small tilt of his head, the slightest smirk curling his lips. "It is."

Rai held his gaze for a moment longer before she shrugged, rising to her feet. "Sure. Why not."

Without another word, they vanished upstairs.

John exhaled, the weight of the night settling over him. He turned to Yumi, their gazes meeting in silent understanding. As she stepped closer, the scent of her hair—something faintly floral, mixed with the salt of the sea—stirred something deep in his chest.

He stood, offering his hand. She took it.

Without a word, they left together.

Behind them, RW watched the last of the doors close, her glowing eyes narrowing slightly. She turned, expecting a room, but there was none.

She scowled, tail flicking as she looked toward the warm hearth in the center of the main hall. "Tch. Meatbags and their hormones."

With a sigh, she resigned herself to the warmth of the fire, muttering under her breath about the indignity of it all.

Outside, the wind shifted, carrying the distant howl of something unseen. The wolves in the mist remained, their glowing eyes protecting those that slept.

Their presence did not fade, nor did the weight in John's chest. The night was quiet, but something beneath it whispered of what was to come.