The Demon’s Pact

Lightning flashed across the churning snowy sky, illuminating Gin's broken form. Blood trickled from his cracked lips as he struggled to stand, leaning heavily on his wooden sword. 

Gin's teeth ground together, the heat of anger simmering in his chest, a stark contrast to the cold air around them. 

Kuroyama stood before him, the Hanketsu form unveiled, three horns marking his forehead, a testament to the power now unleashed. The whistle of the wind carried the sinister melody of impending doom.

"I'm surprised you forced me to use my Hanketsu form; you are exactly what the legends have been saying about you," Kuroyama taunted. But Gin, consumed by a mix of pain and rage, offered no response. His focus was elsewhere, his mind echoing with silent curses aimed at the Chinese man-eater whose deceit had cast him and the emperor into this dire confrontation.

Gin's hand tightened around the hilt of his wooden blade, the grain of the wood pressing into his skin, grounding him amidst the storm of emotions. Each pulse of pain that coursed through him was a stark reminder of the peril they now faced, a situation born from miscalculated trust and underestimated foes.

"I should've waited," he chastised himself internally, the echo of his own thoughts amplifying the gravity of his mistake. Kuroyama was not an enemy to be underestimated, a fact Gin knew all too well. Yet, here he stood, alone amidst the chaos, with Tan Lun still possibly fighting with the remnants of the Minamoto Clan.

Thunder rumbled, its vibrations echoing the chaos within Gin. Amidst the loud noise, his mind was pulled into the past. A vivid memory surfaced, casting him back to a haunting scene two weeks prior in China.

***( Past)

Rain poured down in relentless sheets, the heavens weeping, as Gin and Emperor Jimmu stood amidst the fallen forms of Japanese samurai. The grey skies cast a somber hue over the scene, each drop of rain washing over lifeless bodies, a chilling testament to a recent massacre.

They were at a temple, its ancient stones nestled near the mountains in China. 

"Are you sure about this, Emperor?" Gin's whisper cut through the eerie silence, his gaze fixed on the lifeless warriors. Doubt and fear laced his words. "Tan Lun cannot be trusted."

Emperor Jimmu's laughter, cold and dismissive, hung in the air. "Nonsense. He will be a valuable ally in capturing Kuroyama."

Emperor Jimmu seized the fabric of Gin's kimono, pulling him closer amidst the scattered body's on the wet and bloody floor. His grip was firm, a silent command for patience. "Wait," he urged. The emperor's eyes, intense and revealing, held a secret yet untold. "You should know, Tan Lun is deaf. He made a pact with the demon Mara, he exchanged his hearing for the power of that demon staff he wields."

Gin stared at Emperor Jimmu, his eyes wide. "A demon?" he blurted out, the words heavy with disbelief. He was familiar with pacts with deities, but this was new, unsettling territory. "I've never heard of making a pact with a demon. How is that even possible?"

Inside, a storm of confusion raged. Every piece of knowledge, every belief he held about the spiritual and the mystical, was being upended.

Emperor Jimmu released his grip, his voice steady, weaving the explanation through the tension of the moment. "It's straightforward, Gin. You, for instance, have a pact with the deity Raijin. You can wield his base abilities, like coating your blade in lightning, without any cost. Even in your Hanketsu form, where horns grace your forehead, there's no exchange required. But to merge with Raijin, to assume the Ryugami form, a sacrifice is demanded."

Emperor Jimmu paused, his gaze piercing through the storm, landing heavily on Gin. "The demon Mara isn't like the deities we know, Gin," he said, his voice a low murmur amidst the chaos. "He offered Tan Lun the power of that demon staff and with it, a twisted form of immortality. But it came at a cost."

Gin leaned in closer, the emperor's words weaving through the air, charged with an ominous energy.

"He can't hear a thunderclap or the softest whisper," Jimmu continued. "And though he won't die, he'll bear the scars of time, aging but never passing."

Gin's eyes widened, a cold shiver of shock running down his spine. The revelation of such a sinister pact sent his thoughts spiraling. "Why would anyone agree to such a trade?" he wondered internally.

Tan Lun emerged from the shadows, demon staff in hand and a shark-like grin splitting his face. Blood and gore were splattered across his robes. "You've returned, I see. And without your guards this time. Wise decision." His voice was cold and calculating. 

Gin's muscles tightened, and his grip on the sword hilt intensified. He stared at the bald old man before him. "So this is the infamous Chinese man-eater, Tan Lun?" Gin questioned inwardly. An inexplicable wave of bloodlust emanated from Tan Lun, seeping into the charged air around them, and Gin was caught in the unsettling pull of it. 

"We have a proposal for you," Emperor Jimmu said, articulating his words clearly. "The man who killed your grandparents at the battle of Sekigahara is dead. However, his son, Kuroyama Minamoto, lives on and seeks to kill more of your people." 

A spark lit Tan Lun's eyes. "Does he now?" 

"We believe your particular skill set would be invaluable in helping us capture this threat," Jimmu continued. "I'm aware of your animosity towards  the Japanese, given the history. But helping us now... it could be your path to retribution."

A shark-toothed smile spread across Tan Lun's face. "Revenge and payment. I accept." 

Gin ground his teeth. They were making a deal with the devil. 

Tan Lun cocked his head, gaze sliding to Gin. "You disagree, samurai? Do you not wish to vanquish your enemy?" 

Gin met his gaze evenly. "I care only for protecting my emperor and my people. Not for revenge." 

"Honorable," Tan Lun mused. "And yet, you will welcome my aid in defeating Kuroyama, no?" 

Gin said nothing. He didn't trust his voice not to betray his anger. 

Tan Lun laughed, the sound grating and cold. "Fear not, samurai. I shall help you defeat your foe. And then, the real fun shall begin."

As quickly as it surfaced, the memory dissolved, and Gin was thrust back into the present, the storm's roars a grim accompaniment to the battle unfolding before him.

The storm raged on as Gin faced Kuroyama in the cemetery, their blades a blur of motion. 

Kuroyama laughed, eyes glowing with malice. "You're holding back, old man. Have you gone soft in your age?" 

Gin gritted his teeth, ignoring the taunt. He was buying time, waiting for Tan Lun to come. The demon staff was their only hope of defeating Kuroyama and his fire magic. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Kuroyama sneered. "Looking to by time for help old man? I don't think so." 

He drove both of his blades deep into the snowy ground, and instantly, flames erupted around them, forging an impenetrable barrier of fire. The temperature within the confined space soared, and Gin's breath became ragged, each exhale visible in the heated air and causing the snow in the barrier to melt.

Kuroyama's eyes gleamed behind the wall of fire. "Now it's just you and me. No escape." 

The flames intensified, searing Gin's skin. He stumbled back, struggling to remain standing. Kuroyama was using the full force of his fire magic, seeking to overwhelm him. 

Gin's thoughts turned desperate. Where was Tan Lun? Did the madman intend to betray him after all?