It listened.
Four figures moved between the trees where no path existed. Their passage bent the undergrowth but left no sound behind. Grey robes brushed against bark and vine, dusted with pale ash that swallowed the scent of men.
Trackers.
The scariest of them slowed beside a broken root where the soil had been disturbed hours earlier.
He crouched.
Not to examine the ground.
Instead he drew a small mirror of black obsidian from the folds of his robe.
The surface drank the moonlight.
He breathed across it.
Mist gathered.
For a heartbeat nothing happened.
Then the vapor twisted.
Red.
A spiral formed across the glass, thin and pulsing.
The tracker tilted his head.
“ confirmed.”
Behind him one of the others whispered through the slits of his carved mask.
“The boy, Chief?”
“The same.”
The man holding the mirror studied the spiral.
“He bleeds from the spirit.”
A pause passed between them.
Then the fourth figure spoke.
He was the only one without a mask.
“Direction.”
The mirror trembled in the tracker’s hand. The spiral shifted.
Pointing deeper into the forest.
“The cemetery clearing.”
One of the masked hunters spoke quietly.
“The Vagabond lives there.”
The man without the mask did not hesitate.
“The Vagabond hides.”
His voice was calm.
Almost bored.
“If we find the boy…”
His fingers tightened slightly.
“We erase the boy.”
A moment passed.
“And if the Vagabond interferes?”
The man’s eyes lifted toward the darkness ahead.
“Then we erase the Vagabond.”
They began moving again.
Not like soldiers.
Like wolves.
And the forest opened for them.
****
The Clearing
The fire crackled softly at the center of the clearing.
Kwaku sat beside the crooked wall of Oba’s hut, shaking.
The fever had not left him.
His right hand throbbed where the mark burned beneath the skin.
“They’re close,” he whispered.
Oba did not look up.
The old man crouched beside the fire, calmly feeding thin branches into the coals.
“They’re coming,” Kwaku said again.
“Yes.”
Kwaku stared at him.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“That’s it?”
“We knew they would.”
The boy swallowed.
“Then we should run.”
Oba shook his head.
“You cannot outrun something that smells you.”
Kwaku’s throat tightened.
“Smells…?”
Oba stood slowly.
He reached into the edge of the fire and scooped a handful of cold ash.
“Stand.”
Kwaku forced himself up.
Oba pressed the ash against the boy’s forehead.
Cold.
Then he pressed it over Kwaku’s chest.
“Close your eyes.”
Kwaku obeyed.
“Do not think about the mark.”
“I can’t—”
“Do not think about the men coming.”
“I hear them—”
“Then listen to something else.”
Oba placed a hand against the boy’s back.
“Listen to the fire.”
The wood cracked softly.
“The wood has no name,” Oba murmured.
“The wood has no memory.”
The mark in Kwaku’s hand pulsed once.
Then again.
Then slowly-
It quieted.
The pressure inside his skull faded.
The burning dulled to a distant ache.
Oba nodded faintly.
“Good.”
Kwaku opened his eyes.
“What did you do?”
“Closed the door.”
A branch snapped somewhere in the forest.
Oba’s gaze shifted.
Then he pointed at the hut.
“Inside.”
Kwaku blinked.
“What?”
“Go.”
“But—”
“If you want to live,” Oba said quietly, “go inside.”
Something in the old man’s voice ended the argument.
Kwaku slipped into the hut.
Through a crack in the wood he could see the clearing.
And Oba.
Standing alone.
The hut was already surrounded.
***
The Masks
The forest moved.
Three figures stepped into the firelight, close to Oba.
Their faces were hidden behind carved masks.
Long jaws.
Hollow eyes.
Bone-white wood stained with ash and soot.
They did not resemble human faces.
They looked like the skulls of animals that had never lived.
A fourth man stepped into the clearing in front of Oba.
He wore no mask.
His eyes settled calmly on Oba.
One of the masked trackers spoke.
“We were not told he was here.”
The man without the mask replied quietly.
“No.”
A pause.
“…we were not.”
He studied Oba carefully.
Then something shifted in his gaze.
“…Impossible.”
His voice lowered.
Inside the hut Kwaku frowned.
The word meant nothing to him.
But Oba’s posture had changed.
Lower.
Looser.
Like something coiled.
Waiting.
The unmasked leader spoke again.
“We were not told you were here.”
Oba answered calmly.
“You were not supposed to be.”
Silence settled over the clearing.
Then the first tracker attacked.
Kwaku observed something strange from the hut.
The men around the fire hardly moved.
Yet... something was wrong.
Their silhouettes seemed too low. Too still.
For a moment, he felt as if he were looking at animals ready to pounce.
Then one of them moved slightly.
And the illusion was broken.
They were just men.
****
The Three Hunters
Steel flashed.
The first masked tracker lunged.
Oba moved.
One step.
Down.
To the side.
The blade cut empty air.
Something cracked.
The tracker collapsed into the dirt.
He did not move again.
The second tracker attacked instantly.
Twin blades.
Low.
Precise.
Oba turned.
The firelight struck his face.
Kwaku’s breath caught.
Oba’s pupils had narrowed.
Thin.
Like those of a predator.
The second tracker screamed.
Then silence.
His body dropped beside the first.
Ash drifted slowly through the clearing.
The third tracker attacked without hesitation.
Faster than the others.
His blade cut toward Oba’s throat.
Oba’s spear curved upward like a claw.
Steel rang once.
The man staggered.
Then fell.
Three bodies lay in the ash.
And Oba walking through like a true warrior.
Only two men remained standing.
Oba.
And the leader.
****
The Hunter of Hunters
The leader looked down at the fallen trackers.
Then back at Oba.
“…so the stories were true.”
He slowly removed the obsidian mirror.
The spiral inside it glowed faintly red.
“You should not protect the boy.”
Oba said nothing.
“The kingdom has already decided his fate.”
Still nothing.
The man stepped forward.
The spiral inside the mirror brightened.
Kwaku felt the mark in his palm burn again.
“You cannot hide him forever.”
Oba dragged his foot through the ash beside the fire.
A line formed in the dirt.
Then another.
Simple shapes.
The fire bent toward them.
The ground trembled.
For a moment—
something ancient stirred beneath the soil.
The tracker froze.
“…you would risk that?”
Oba’s voice was quiet.
“You came too far.”
The man attacked.
Steel rang.
The two figures moved like shadows colliding in firelight.
The tracker’s blade carved the air with terrifying precision.
Oba’s spear curved like a predator’s claw.
Ash exploded upward.
The mirror flared crimson. Suddenly the tracker spun.
His eyes snapped toward the hut.
The spiral inside the mirror pulsed.
“…there.”
Kwaku’s heart stopped.
Oba moved instantly and a massive spectral spirit appears behind him.
The butt of his spear slammed into the man’s ribs.
The tracker staggered back.
But did not fall.
He smiled slightly.
“You have grown old, Leopard.”
Blood ran from the corner of Oba’s mouth.
Neither man moved.
Then the tracker stepped backward.
One step.
Then another.
“This is not finished.”
His gaze lingered on Oba.
“The boy cannot hide forever.”
The spiral dimmed.
Then the man turned and vanished into the trees.
The forest swallowed him.
****
Aftermath
Silence returned to the clearing.
Oba stood very still.
Then he exhaled.
His shoulders sagged.
Kwaku pushed the hut door open.
“Are you hurt?”
Oba wiped his mouth.
There was blood on his hand.
“It’s nothing.”
Kwaku stared at him.
“…they called you the Leopard.”
Oba did not answer.
He looked toward the forest.
“They will bring more.”
Kwaku’s stomach twisted.
“What do we do?”
Oba picked up his spear.
“We move.”
The fire behind them slowly died.
They disappeared into the forest.
Branches whipped past them as Oba pulled Kwaku deeper between the trees.
“Faster,” he said.
Above the canopy—
something moved.
A black kite.
It circled once.
Silent.
Watching.
Oba glanced upward for the briefest moment.
His jaw tightened.
“…Of course. Let's go now"
Far behind them—
deep in the darkness—
the spiral in the obsidian mirror began to glow again.
And something else answered it.
The Leopard
A quick note on the art:Sankofa a truly immersive Seinen experience, I am experimenting with AI-enhanced panels specifically for major turning points and legendary moments
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