Sancaka rode his horse toward the stone granary, urging it forward as it followed his senior, who rode ahead. Along the way, the path felt strangely familiar.
This is the road leading to the Ghost Cave… back when the Dharma heroes came, Sancaka thought.
And he was right. He passed the rice fields near the Ghost Cave. His horse did not slow until they arrived at a large structure, positioned near the edge of the boundary wall.
"So this is the stone granary," Sancaka muttered.
He quickly dismounted to get a closer look. The building appeared neglected—wild growth like moss had crept along its wooden walls, and fungi had begun to sprout at the corners. There was no roof above it, as if the structure had been abandoned as a hollow block.
The senior who brought him there stood before the door. He inserted a key, turned it, and the door creaked open. From within, a red light burst outward.
At first, Sancaka thought it might be torchlight—but it was far too intense.
He stepped closer, still unable to see the source. Then he froze.
Inside lay a pile of stones.
Is this… what they call bloodstone? he wondered.
Sancaka followed his senior inside. Now he could observe them up close. He crouched and picked up one of the stones. Its surface was black, but cracked with glowing red veins. From those fractures came the crimson light illuminating the entire granary.
He glanced at his senior, who was feeling and counting the stones.
"Sir… where did all these bloodstones come from?" Sancaka asked.
"I didn't gather them," the senior replied. "Our farmers did. While digging wells, they suddenly uncovered chunks of bloodstone buried underground."
The senior then looked closely at Sancaka's face, as if trying to recognize him.
"You're new, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir. I was only appointed as a village knight yesterday," Sancaka answered.
"That explains it," the senior nodded. "The local knights already know who discovered these stones. But for someone new like you… that's understandable."
He paused.
"And I assume you don't know why these stones must be hidden?"
Sancaka shook his head.
They stepped back outside, and the senior locked the granary door again.
"This place must remain sealed," he said. "The light must not escape. Prolonged exposure to that red glow is dangerous."
"What kind of danger?" Sancaka asked.
"There are several possibilities. Lose your sanity. Lose your life. Or… turn into a savage Kurawa."
"What? How is that even possible?" Sancaka asked, shocked.
The senior took a breath.
"I'll explain. Listen carefully—this is a long story."
Sancaka listened intently.
"There was once a time when the Kurawa were created by a Seraphis named Lucifer," the senior began.
"At first, Lucifer visited a village. The people welcomed him warmly. He brought good news—he claimed he would create medicine to cure the sick. In exchange, he asked to stay, to be given space to work… and to mine certain stones."
"Once he had everything he needed, he began his work."
"Lucifer created stones with red glowing cracks—those stones were called bloodstones. He made many of them and distributed them to every household."
"He instructed the villagers to place the stones inside their homes. The red light, he said, contained healing properties."
"The villagers believed him."
"And that belief… destroyed them."
"One by one, every household turned into Kurawa. Savage creatures—once human—flooded the village."
The senior's voice grew colder.
"Meanwhile, Lucifer stood atop a hill, watching the chaos unfold."
"He stayed there for a long time… until the Dharma arrived and captured him."
The senior fell silent for a moment.
"Now you understand why these stones are dangerous. That's why we hide them—to prevent outsiders from taking them and becoming Kurawa."
Sancaka frowned, deep in thought.
"Then what happened to Lucifer?" he asked. "Was he captured… or killed by the Dharma?"
"No one knows for sure," the senior replied. "That's where the story ends."
He then straightened his posture.
"Now, back to our duty. No one is allowed to touch this granary or take the stones—not even our own villagers."
He added firmly:
"Not even those who bear the title of Hero."
Sancaka blinked.
"That story… it didn't happen in Wanasura Village, right?"
"Of course not."
"Then how did bloodstones end up here?"
"We don't know," the senior admitted. "We're still trying to find out why our farmers discovered them."
Sancaka hesitated, then asked:
"If they're that dangerous… why don't we just destroy them?"
"We've tried."
The senior shook his head.
"Hammers. Tools. Every method we could think of. Nothing worked. The stones don't even crack."
He continued:
"Then, a few days later, we heard rumors… about a Dharma who can destroy bloodstones."
"Then why not give them to that Dharma?" Sancaka asked.
"We can't trust Dharma blindly."
"Why not? Aren't they supposed to protect the world?" Sancaka pressed.
The senior's expression darkened.
"Not anymore."
"Some of them have changed. Some act only for their own interests."
"We must be cautious. If we hand over these stones carelessly… they could be misused."
Hearing that, something stirred in Sancaka's memory.
He recalled a moment from his childhood—eavesdropping on his father speaking with a village knight about Dharma pursuing bloodstones.
"Senior… does my father know about this granary?" Sancaka asked.
"Your father? What's his name?"
"Tono."
The senior's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait… you're Tono's son?"
"Yes," Sancaka nodded. "He hasn't returned home in a long time. Do you know where he is?"
The senior exhaled.
"Your father has been fighting outside the village… alongside other forces."
"He's been holding back the Dharma from attacking this place."
There was a pause.
Sancaka felt something tighten in his chest.
"…Did I hear that right?" he said slowly. "The Dharma are attacking our village?"
"A group of them is trying to break in and seize the bloodstones," the senior confirmed.
"That's why someone must guard this place."
Sancaka fell silent.
His gaze returned to the stone granary.
Why didn't I know about this? he thought.
Father… why didn't you tell me?
Suddenly—
A searing heat brushed against his skin.
Sancaka looked up.
In the sky, a circular light formed—descending.
As it fell lower, it began to fragment.
Each fragment transformed into a flaming arrow.
His eyes widened.
Hundreds—no, thousands—of fire arrows rained down upon Demak Village.
In an instant, the village was engulfed in flames.
A sea of fire.
Without hesitation, Sancaka sprinted toward his horse, mounted it, and drove it forward—
Straight toward the heart of Demak Village.