The moment Yurei’s laughter faded into the darkness, Lemon did not hesitate.

  “NOPE—!” the spirit wood lemming shrieked.

  He vanished in a blur of green light, diving headfirst into a collapsed cellar entrance and squeezing himself between broken stones.

  “Heroic retreat!” Lemon whispered to himself. “Very heroic!”

  Above ground, the street drowned in shadow.

  Rhen Calder exhaled slowly, steadying his stance. The pale glow of Yurei’s eyes reflected on Masamune, the blade humming faintly in his grip.

  “Akitsu,” Rhen said without looking away. “Whatever it is—don’t let it touch you.”

  Akitsu Shouga nodded, already pulling the cloth from Joyeuse. The blade beneath shimmered like condensed dawn.

  “I won’t,” Akitsu replied calmly. “But I doubt it will be that simple.”

  Yurei drifted forward, its feet never touching the stone.

  “So fragile,” it whispered. “So… alive.”

  Rhen’s eyes hardened.

  “Ghost.”

  The world slipped.

  Rhen’s body phased—his chest, legs, head shifting into a non-interactive state. The street passed through him as if he no longer belonged to it.

  But his right arm remained solid.

  Masamune stayed real.

  Rhen lunged.

  The blade cut through shadow and connected.

  For the first time, Yurei recoiled.

  A shrill sound echoed—not pain, but recognition.

  “…Ah,” Yurei murmured. “You walk beside existence.”

  Rhen gritted his teeth. “And you don’t belong in it.”

  He struck again.

  Masamune tore through Yurei’s form, carving away chunks of black mist. Each slash should have ended the fight.

  But the darkness simply… reformed.

  Akitsu moved.

  He flashed forward, daggers striking in a rapid cross—steel slicing through the air faster than thought.

  Useless.

  The daggers passed through Yurei as if through fog.

  Akitsu clicked his tongue. “As expected.”

  He reversed his grip and raised Joyeuse.

  “Then let’s test something else.”

  The blade ignited.

  Light erupted—not fire, not magic, but pure brilliance. A flash brighter than the sun exploded outward, flooding the street, the rooftops, the windows behind shutters.

  For an instant—

  Yurei screamed.

  The shadows recoiled violently, the spirit silhouettes dissolving like ash in wind.

  Rhen shielded his eyes. “It works!”

  Akitsu pressed forward. “It disrupts its form!”

  But the light faded.

  And Yurei remained.

  Its outline flickered—but stabilized.

  “…Light,” Yurei said softly. “How nostalgic.”

  Akitsu froze. “…What?”

  Yurei vanished.

  Rhen’s instincts screamed.

  “Behind—!”

  Too late.

  Yurei appeared beside Akitsu, one hand piercing through his chest—not flesh, but essence.

  Akitsu gasped.

  His body convulsed.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Rhen lunged, phasing fully, passing through Yurei to slash from the other side—

  But in that instant, his arm phased by mistake.

  Masamune passed through empty air.

  Yurei’s other hand reached out—

  —and touched Rhen’s solid arm.

  Rhen’s eyes widened.

  “…Shit.”

  Cold flooded his veins.

  Not physical cold—existential.

  “You phase around the world,” Yurei whispered. “But your soul still exists within you.”

  Rhen tried to pull away.

  Too late.

  Black tendrils wrapped around his chest.

  Akitsu dropped to one knee, coughing—not blood, but flickering fragments of light.

  “…Rhen,” Akitsu muttered. “Get back—!”

  Rhen forced himself to speak. “Akitsu—run!”

  Akitsu laughed weakly. “You’re one to talk.”

  Yurei lifted both hands.

  The street darkened completely.

  “Your resistance is admirable,” it said. “But you are not enough.”

  The tendrils tightened.

  Rhen felt it.

  Not pain.

  Loss.

  Memories slipping.

  Faces blurring.

  His power—Ghost—flickered wildly, phasing uncontrollably as his sense of self began to unravel.

  “…So this is how it ends,” Rhen murmured.

  Yurei leaned close.

  “No,” it corrected gently. “This is how you are consumed.”

  The world shattered.

  Akitsu felt himself falling.

  Not downward.

  Inward.

  Light vanished.

  Sound ceased.

  Then—

  Water.

  Black, mirror-like water stretched endlessly in all directions.

  Akitsu gasped and sat upright.

  “…Again?” he muttered.

  He was on a small red island, its surface cracked and dry.

  Around it, floating gently above the water, were petals.

  He counted them instinctively.

  “…ninety.”

  They drifted slowly, each one glowing faintly, like fragments of something lost.

  Akitsu exhaled. “So it took my soul too.”

  A slow clap echoed.

  Akitsu turned.

  On the right side of the island sat a humanoid demon—lean, horned, skin like dark stone, eyes glowing with amused intelligence.

  “Welcome back,” the demon said lazily. “You took longer this time.”

  Akitsu stared. “…You.”

  The demon smirked. “Still alive. Still interesting.”

  Akitsu clenched his fists. “Did it take him too?”

  The demon’s smile softened—just a little.

  “Yes.”

  Silence.

  The petals drifted.

  Akitsu looked down at the black water. “So this is the end?”

  The demon leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

  “That depends,” he said. “On whether you plan to stay dead.”

  Akitsu’s eyes sharpened.

  “…Tell me.”

  The demon chuckled.

  “ninety petals,” he said. “You know what that means.”

  Akitsu closed his eyes.

  And somewhere far away—

  Lemon trembled in the dark, hugging his tail, whispering:

  “…Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead…”