Chapter 2 – The Woman in the Mist
The wilderness was merciless.
Days had passed since Hayato fled the burning village, his body aching from hunger and exhaustion. He had never known a life beyond those walls, beyond the twisted grip of his father's cruelty. Now, he walked with no direction, a ghost of himself.
The nights were the worst. The cold bit into his skin. Shadows moved between the trees. The sound of distant howls sent shivers down his spine. He was only half-demon—his resilience kept him standing, but he was still just a child, fragile and untrained.
On the third night, when his legs could no longer carry him, he collapsed near a riverbank. The water shimmered under the moonlight, and as his vision blurred from exhaustion, he caught a glimpse of something—a figure, standing in the mist.
A woman.
She wore a dark, tattered cloak that barely concealed the lean muscle beneath her arms. Her presence was like a blade—sharp, dangerous, effortless. Even as his vision faded, Hayato felt it. Power.
She stepped closer.
And then—darkness.
The First Lesson
When Hayato woke, the first thing he felt was pain.
His body ached in ways he hadn't known were possible. Every muscle screamed, every breath was a battle.
The second thing he felt—was fear.
Because the woman was sitting across from him, staring at him with cold, calculating eyes.
"You're awake," she said.
Her voice was like steel—sharp, unyielding, and filled with something unreadable. Hayato sat up slowly, his body protesting every movement. His surroundings were unfamiliar. The cave walls around him flickered with dim firelight. The scent of herbs mixed with the lingering dampness of stone.
"Where…?" His throat was dry. He barely managed the words.
"You collapsed near my river." She didn't blink. "And I don't take kindly to corpses dirtying my land."
Something in her tone made his skin prickle. She had saved him. But why?
"You should have left me there," Hayato muttered, his voice hollow.
She let out a low chuckle. "Oh, believe me, I considered it. But something told me you'd be more interesting alive."
Silence.
Then she tossed something at him.
A wooden Sword.
The impact jolted his senses. He barely caught it, his fingers wrapping around the rough surface.
"Stand up," she ordered.
Hayato hesitated. His body was screaming for rest, but something in her eyes dared him to refuse. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself onto his feet, swaying slightly.
The woman nodded. "Good. If you want to survive, you train."
Without warning, she moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Her leg swept forward, aiming straight for his ribs. Instinct screamed at him to dodge—but he was too slow.
Pain exploded through his body as he crashed onto the stone floor.
"Lesson one," she said, towering over him. "You're weak."
Hayato coughed, struggling to breathe. The fire in her gaze was merciless.
"Lesson two," she continued. "I don't train the weak. I break them. If you survive, you get stronger. If you don't… well, that's not my problem."
She stepped back, folding her arms. "So, what'll it be?"
Hayato forced himself up, shaking, barely standing. But in his black eyes, there was something new.
Something dangerous.
He tightened his grip on the sword.
"I won't break."
A slow, satisfied smile spread across the woman's face.
"Then let's begin."