Chapter 21 - 20. Crimson shores, buried turth
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After the gate was closed and the damage to Grey Forge City was hastily repaired, Leo descended into the dungeon hidden beneath the city's foundations. Only a few knew this place existed—as it was never intended to be used when the whole race was facing the crisis of extinction. He moved silently beside Arnold, whose single eye reflected the faint torchlight like a weathered sentinel.
The air grew colder the deeper they walked. The runes on the walls glowing in a faint light , but today, the dungeon housed something different—something far worse than any normal criminal.
Two grey-armored figures knelt in the gloom, heavy chains anchoring them to the obsidian floor. What once were samurai now bore corrupted forms. Jagged steel horns protruded from their foreheads, their right arms had fused into twisted, living katanas—bloody, pulsing blades that still seemed to breathe. Their armor had sunk into their flesh, becoming part of their skin. No longer men, but not quite monsters either.
Demon Samurai.
They had not fallen in battle, nor died with honor. These were the ones captured alive during the abyssal siege—barely, and at great cost. One had escaped. Only two were taken.
Leo stepped forward, his expression unreadable. His aura pulsed faintly, the pressure of it enough to silence even the groans of the dungeon.
"Why?" he asked at last. One word. The only word that mattered.
One of the demon samurai looked up. Despite the monstrous horns and fused blade, his eyes held clarity. Not madness. Not rage. But something far more unsettling—calm acceptance.
"You don't understand," the demon said.
"Then make me," Leo replied, voice low and firm.
Arnold stood beside him like a shadow, watching. The scar across his face twitched slightly, as if something about this moment tugged at old memories.