Arlind_Provoliu

For 6000 years, Hayato and Dark have been at war—not for glory or revenge, but because the world refuses to let them rest.

Once a half-demon boy, Hayato was doomed from birth. Betrayed by those he trusted, abandoned by his father, and forced to watch as his childhood friend, Dark, was taken from him. When Hayato’s father set their home ablaze in a final act of desperation, he thought he’d finally broken the boy. But fire does not kill demons.

Now, Hayato and Dark are not the same as they were. After centuries of survival, pain, and betrayal, they’ve become a force feared by gods, kings, and demons alike. Together, they fight to protect the graves of those they lost, the only thing that keeps them tethered to a world they no longer belong to.

But the war is far from over. The rulers of seven worlds are taking notice, and the past has a way of rising from the ashes.

Can Hayato and Dark ever escape the war they’re trapped in, or will they become the very monsters the world has always feared?

Skinhunger

They'd been traveling for months now—through ruined temples, smoke-stained villages, and forests so silent they made your heartbeat sound like thunder. Every demon they fought together, every night they survived—it all added to a bond made of shared silence, steel, and scorched memories.

Hayato didn't know much about Minamoto.He just knew two things:

She swung her blade like she was dancing with death.

Her eyes never looked at fire the same way twice.

One evening, as the orange glow of their campfire flickered, he finally asked.

"You lost someone too, didn't you?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she unsheathed her katana and stared at its edge like it had a story to tell.

"He was ten," she finally said. "My little brother."

The Dragon Who Smiled

Minamoto grew up in a hidden mountain village. It wasn't rich, but it was quiet. Safe. The kind of place you'd want to forget the world in.

Until Scorn came.

Not in fury. Not in chaos.He came in light. In divine judgment.

He said he was purifying the land. Cleansing the world.Her village? Labeled "tainted."

"They smiled as they burned," she whispered. "Like they didn't understand they were already dead."

Her brother had a fever that night. She carried him to the edge of the forest, praying to gods that weren't listening.

He died in her arms, coughing ash.

And from that day on, Minamoto stopped praying.

Hayato stared into the fire, jaw tight.

"They all wear masks," he muttered. "My father did the same. He called it science. Progress."

Minamoto looked over at him. No pity. No softness. Just recognition.Like two wolves sniffing out each other's old wounds.

"I don't care what they call it," she said. "I'll cut through their gods, their reasons, their titles. All of it."

She didn't smile. But she handed him a rice ball she'd grilled. That was close enough.

They didn't talk more that night. But Hayato knew.He'd found someone like him—not in blood, but in pain.

And when they walked into the next demon-infested town, they fought back-to-back without a single word exchanged.

Minamoto was a storm.Hayato was the fire learning to burn higher.

Chapter 5: Ashes of the Past