The petals kept falling.
What should have been a gentle breeze suddenly felt wrong — heavy, deliberate, as if the trees themselves were exhaling in fear. One by one, the cherry blossoms detached and spiraled downward in unnatural silence, forming a faint crimson ring around the pond.
Draven's hand remained on the hilt of the 7th Form, the black blade now half-drawn, its edge drinking in the faint traces of dark energy leaking through the air.
"Draven…" Lira's voice was tight, no longer playful. She stayed glued to his side, her fingers gripping his sleeve. "That shadow… it moved. I saw it too. Tell me the truth — is it one of those things from yesterday?"
Draven didn't look at her. His eyes stayed locked on the thickening cluster of shadows beneath the largest cherry tree.
"Not the same. This one is quieter. Smarter." His voice was low, almost a growl. "It's testing us."
Lira swallowed hard but lifted her chin defiantly. "Then let's not give it what it wants. We can just walk away, right? Back to the crowded path like you said. There are people everywhere — families, kids. It wouldn't attack in broad daylight… would it?"
A dry, rasping chuckle echoed from the shadows — not loud, but clear enough to send a chill down Lira's spine. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Smart little human," the voice whispered, layered and distorted like grinding bones underwater. "But daylight means nothing when hunger calls."
Draven stepped forward, gently but firmly pushing Lira behind him with one arm.
"Stay back."
"No!" Lira protested, grabbing his wrist. "You promised we're a team today. Don't you dare go lone wolf on me now. What's the plan? Slash first, ask questions later?"
Draven's jaw tightened. For the first time, hesitation flickered across his usually emotionless face.
"…If it attacks, run. I'll buy time."
The shadows rippled violently. A single clawed hand emerged first — long, jagged fingers dripping with inky crimson fluid that hissed when it touched the grass. Then the rest of the creature stepped into view.
It wasn't grotesque like the red monster from yesterday. This one was elegant in its horror: tall and slender, its body made of shifting petals stained with blood-red veins. A porcelain-white mask covered its face, cracked in several places, with empty black sockets where eyes should be. Cherry blossoms continuously bloomed and wilted across its shoulders like living armor.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" the creature hissed, tilting its masked head. "I wear the colors of your precious park… so the last thing you see will feel familiar."
Lira's breath hitched. "Draven… that thing is wearing the blossoms. It's mocking us."
Draven drew the 7th Form fully. The black blade sang as it left the sheath, pulsing with deep, hungry darkness.
"Mockery ends when the blade drinks."
The petal-masked monster laughed again — a sound like wind through dead leaves. "The black stage… how quaint. Still so early in your 99 colors. Tell me, sword bearer — how many more must die before you reach the final hue? Ten? A hundred?" Its cracked mask split into a wider grin. "Or perhaps… one cute girl who believes she can stand beside a monster slayer?"
Lira's eyes flashed with anger. She stepped out from behind Draven, fists clenched.
"Hey, flower freak! Leave him alone. If you want a fight, pick on someone who isn't hiding behind stolen petals!"
Draven shot her a sharp glance. "Lira —"
"No," she cut in, voice trembling but determined. "I'm tired of watching you shoulder everything alone. If this thing wants blood, it'll have to go through both of us."
The 7th Form pulsed hotter in Draven's grip, almost approving. *Brave… or foolish,* it seemed to whisper in his mind. *Either way… interesting.*
The masked creature's empty sockets flared with crimson light. "Admirable. Foolish. Delicious." It raised one clawed hand, and the ring of fallen petals around the pond suddenly lifted into the air, spinning faster and faster until they formed dozens of razor-sharp blades.
Draven's stance widened. "When I say run — you run."
Lira nodded once, though her legs felt like lead. "Only if you promise to come back in one piece. No heroic sacrifices today, Draven Blackthorn."
For a split second, their eyes met — a silent promise passing between them amid the rising storm of crimson petals.
Then the monster struck.
Hundreds of petal-blades screamed toward them like a crimson blizzard.
Draven moved first. His slash tore through the air — a deep, consuming black arc that shattered the front wave of petals into harmless dust.
*Shrrrk—!*
"Stay behind me!" he shouted, already launching into the next strike.
Lira ducked low, heart pounding. "I'm not going anywhere without you!"
The masked monster laughed louder as more petals regenerated from thin air. "Come then, little humans. Show me how brightly you burn… before the colors claim you both."
In the monster realm, the ancient cave trembled. A single drop of fresh blood — unseen by either fighter — seeped into the stone floor.
The 99 stages stirred.
---
**To be continued**