The rain fell from the sky of Yamato without end. But this time, the water was no longer clear—it was a deep crimson, thick like fresh blood spilled from the wounds of the world. The rivers swelled, flowing with a sea of blood intermingled with the wailing and writhing of souls. The earth was soaked, homes lay shattered, and everywhere there was only the lament of loss.

  On the edge of a village that had crumbled, Kei stood with a search party, her face drenched in the blood of the sky. In the distance, a scream echoed through the ruins, creating a silence that was abruptly shattered. “We will never be able to forget,” Kei whispered to herself, as if seeking answers within the shards of memory.

  Kei, her voice hoarse, said, “There’s nothing left… Not a single soul survived.” Her voice felt like it was drifting in the air, surrounded by the shadows of spirits that seemed to accuse her—death's cheers whispered in her ears.

  The soldier beside her trembled, “We found more souls than humans, Captain. They… don’t want to leave. They are crying.” His effort to suppress his fear seemed futile as his eyes caught glimpses of ghostly figures gliding past, their gazes seemed to plead. “Should we help them, or destroy the souls that are trapped?”

  Shiori emerged from the ruins, leading a group of small children whose bodies were covered in scratches. “We can't drive them away,” Shiori said, her voice trembling. “We need to find a way to free the trapped souls. They… they just want to find peace.”

  Shiori, weary, continued, “Some of them… don’t even remember their names. Others keep calling out for their mother or father, who have become nothing but mist.”

  "There’s a darkness deeper than that mist, Shiori," Kei reminded her, his gaze fixed on the crimson river. “Don’t let them drink from the river. Anyone who does will fall into a spiral of death.” The whisper of the water sounded like the voices of the calling souls, creating a tension that hung heavy in the air.

  In the midst of the river, shadowy bodies swirled in a vortex of spirits. Hollow faces, flailing hands, eyes void of light. Each voice of the restless souls dragged weak-willed humans into the water. Kei gripped her arm tightly, “There’s no safe place left. Are we ready to face the darkness that beckons?”

  Another soldier, anxious, called out, “Captain! The magitek barricade in the west has fallen. Gashadokuro and the yokai-corpse are beginning to consume the souls, making them stronger.”

  “We must act now,” Kei shouted, nodding as she gazed toward the east. “Call all the reminder sorceresses. Form a circle to banish the spirits! Don’t give them time to merge with the river!” She felt the weight on her chest, the decisions she had to make.

  The witch squad quickly formed ranks. Magic staffs were plunged into the muddy ground, a circle of pale blue light glowing around them, their voices hoarse yet resolute. “Together, we can break this bond!” shouted one of the witches, her lips trembling with fervor. “A name is light; a soul is legacy. With this, we reject the waters of death!”

  A spiral wave of energy struck the swirling river, yet blood continued to flow, and the spirits only screamed louder. “What do you seek, human? Courage or certainty?” a hollow voice from deep within the river teased their consciousness.

  In the ruins of the village, a small child sat alone, her eyes vacant. The scent of blood and darkness wrapped around her, creating a chilling discomfort within her little soul.

  The child whispered softly, “Mother… where are you? Who… what is my name?” She groped for memories fragmented like shattered glass, tears flowing silently down her cheeks.

  Shiori approached, embracing the child, “You are Hana. Your name is Hana. You are with us.” Her voice pierced through the darkness, hoping to cast a glimmer of light upon this grim moment.

  However, the spirits seductively whispered in the child’s ear, “Leave behind your name, and you can be with your mother again…” They could sense her uncertainty, as if the child stood on the brink between worlds, torn between desire and reality. “What matters more, Hana?” the spirits hissed, “Your name or the love you seek?”

  The child screamed, her body beginning to fade, only to return to solidity as Shiori kissed her forehead, whispering the ancestral Oda mantra. “Your memories are your shield, Hana. No one can take them away from you as long as you remember.”

  Shiori, gentle yet firm, said, “You are not alone. As long as someone remembers your name, the spirits cannot consume you.” Her voice cut through the panic, challenging the dark history surrounding them. “Remember, those who are forgotten will lead us back into darkness.”

  From the depths of the river, the gigantic silhouette of Gashadokuro emerged, its skeletal form glowing red. “Only the darkness knows those names,” it roared, its voice shaking the earth. “Let me erase everything!”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Gashadokuro bellowed, “Names! Names! I hunger for the names of children! I crave weak souls!” Its thirst reverberated through the air, spreading an unavoidable threat. “Quickly, or you will become my name.”

  Kei raised her magitek spear, her eyes sharp. “All forces to the west! Do not let Gashadokuro approach the heart of the village!” she shouted, her decision resolute, like light piercing through darkness. “We fight for memory!”

  The soldiers, ready for battle, nodded. “Secure your positions, activate the Spiral Wall!” Their voices echoed as one, bolstering their resolve in unity. The flaming magic of the spiral wall repelled part of Gashadokuro's body. Yet the Yokai twisted, reaching for the soldiers with its massive hands, pulling them one by one into its hollow skull.

  The cries of the warriors and sorcerers echoed back and forth, their final moments etched in their memories. "Join us, the forgotten!" shouted the remaining warrior, his voice filled with fear. "Or our story will be erased!"

  A young warrior trembled, “I don’t want to be forgotten… Please… remind me of my name…” Hope seeped from his nearly broken voice. “If I vanish, what will remain of us?”

  Kei held back her tears, embracing each of the remaining warriors, “Repeat your names! Don’t let the spirits steal your identities!” This precious moment resonated within her soul, each heartbeat affirming, “We are more than mere memories.”

  However, from every ruined house, new spirits emerged, their voices lamenting, “We once had names too… But the world has forgotten us…” They reached out with trembling hands, voicing the pain that was poured into the silence.

  Shiori whispered softly, “This isn’t our fault… But we must endure.” She could feel the weight of the memories carried by the spirits, trapped in injustice, and her heart reaffirmed, “Our lives are more than just fragments that have been lost.”

  From the darkness of the forest illuminated by lightning, Tamamo-no-Mae emerged. Nine tails of fire danced, an illusion of happiness creeping into the minds of the remaining villagers. "Are you ready to release all your burdens, oh, you who are trapped in sorrow?" Tamamo-no-Mae whispered, her voice like a gentle stream, "Come closer, and feel what is rightfully yours."

  Tamamo-no-Mae, with an enticing voice, said, “Leave all your grief behind. Come to me, and you will live in beautiful dreams forever…”

  Some villagers smiled strangely, walking towards the flames, stepping into the embrace of the illusion. "We will not be hurt in this dream," one of them shouted, "We will find our freedom!" In an instant, their bodies froze into crystal statues, eyes wide open in eternal fear.

  Kei, his voice strained with anger, shouted, “Don’t listen to her! Stay within the circle! Can’t you see? It’s all an illusion!”

  Shiori recited the counter-illusion spell, “Seal of Reality—Awakened Name!” Spiral energy danced around her, breaking through some of the illusion's fog, but the night still stretched out endlessly. “Are we destined to be trapped forever in this shadowy abyss?” she thought anxiously, taking breaths between the spells she pronounced.

  From the sky, Nurarihyon descended, accompanied by Tengu. Nurarihyon's voice boomed, “The real war has only just begun. You humans, spirits, yokai, are all just pieces in one grand game.”

  Tengu chuckled darkly, “If you wish to live, then fight us with names worthy of remembrance! Only names carved in blood deserve to be remembered!”

  The Oda soldiers formed a defensive line. "Get ready! Barrier magic! We will not let them take us down one by one!" the Squad Captain shouted, his gaze piercing through the anxiety that filled his troops’ faces.

  Gashadokuro rampaged, a river of blood spreading in every direction, houses crumbling, streets turning into a crimson swamp. "Look! What they've destroyed!" screamed one of the soldiers, "Magic is not merely a source of power; it’s a double-edged sword!"

  Shiori gasped for breath, “The spiral energy is waning. We won’t last if we keep getting surrounded… But we are more than just spirits or humans. We are their memories!”

  Kei gazed at the sky, “Tonight… it feels like the end of the world. If we must fall, at least our names will be remembered.” She recalled all the battles they had fought, struggling against the shadows of fear that lurked ever closer.

  The ancient deity, with a faint voice, said, “There is one way—the sacrifice of names. A single name can become the seal for a thousand souls.”

  “But at what cost?” Kei cried, her eyes ablaze. “We are consumed by the trapped souls!”

  Kei shook her head fiercely, “No! We will not sacrifice anyone without facing the final battle.”

  Suddenly, Nobuzan's voice echoed from the city tower, resonating through the spiral sound across the landscape. “The names you protect—they are your souls! Do not let the spirits strip away the last verse!”

  Nobuzan, weak yet unwavering, continued, “Listen to me… blood and souls are not the end. As long as one name endures, the world has not lost. Remember… you are not alone!”

  “But how much can we afford to lose?” shouted Tamamo-no-Mae, her face paling. “Every soul we sacrifice will awaken the darkness! The spirits make bargains from behind the shadows!”

  The spiral incantation intensified, the protective barrier thickening slightly. Gashadokuro howled, but was restrained, while Tengu and Nurarihyon exchanged anxious glances. “They always whisper, even when we do not hear,” Nurarihyon spoke, his voice trembling. “Do we truly want to listen?”

  Tamamo-no-Mae narrowed her eyes, “You are truly stubborn, Nobuzan…”

  That night, blood rained down ceaselessly. The rivers were filled with restless spirits. There was no place that felt truly safe. “Are we trapped in this cycle? Why is there no end?” Shiori thought, feeling the heavy weight in her heart. “In the darkness, we struggle, but when will we find the light?”

  Within Oda's protective circle, humans persevered—with names, with incantations, and with the thin hope that still smoldered amid a sea of blood.

  “We will endure, no matter the cost,” Kei gripped Shiori's hand tightly, as if her very life depended on it. “Every name we speak is our shield.”

  Shiori smiled bitterly, “As long as we remember each other's names, no spirit can claim us.”

  “But spirits steal more than just life. They rob us of hope,” Kei said, her voice trembling. “For every name lost, a soul will be imprisoned forever.”

  And beneath an increasingly red sky, the remnants of Yamato City still stood—though every passing second was threatened by spirits and rivers of blood, they still possessed the one thing that no one could take from them: names. “Remember, every name is a bridge between us and the others,” Kei whispered, trapped in thoughts of death that lingered around them.