His right arm throbbed. As if being drawn up from the depths of sleep, Ashitaka slowly opened his eyes. The hut was dim, and the western sun slanting through the gaps in the plank walls traced countless thin lines of light across the space. He raised himself halfway up on the boar pelt spread over his bedding and, without a word, brought the fingers of his left hand to his right shoulder. Beneath the cloth, the mark was hot. He unwound the white cloth wrapped around it. From his shoulder down to his fingertips, a pattern like a red-black serpent had risen to the surface. It pulsed with an eerie vividness, as if something were writhing beneath the skin. Ashitaka gently traced its outline with the pad of his finger. A dull, spreading pain shot through him. This was the curse carved into him years ago, when he had slain the Tatarigami in the eastern lands. When touched by rage or killing intent, the arm unleashed unnatural power. It could send a full-grown man flying with one hand, even shatter an iron shield. But each time, the curse crept closer to the center of his body, toward his heart. When it finally reached— Ashitaka exhaled quietly and wrapped the cloth back into place. "...It's still all right." It was a small voice, meant for no one. He rose and pushed open the hut's wooden door. The crude hinges creaked, and the outside air flowed in. The smell of damp earth and green grass. And deeper still, the scent of the ancient forest. Before him spread the Forest of the Shishigami. The deep green, dyed in the twilight of late summer, was utterly silent, utterly profound. Moss-covered giant trees layered upon one another, and their depths were already dim, the boundary between day and night wavering ambiguously. Above the treetops, a faint clattering sound—the sound of the Kodama rattling their heads—could be heard ever so softly. Ashitaka turned around. Down the slope behind him, pit dwellings and dugout huts dotted the landscape. The Iwayado settlement. From the roof of every house, thin trails of cooking smoke rose slowly, drifting and fading on the wind. The women must have been preparing the evening meal. The murmur of the Misuzu River and the sound of someone calling out mingled together, dissolving into the twilight air. The forest, and the village of men. His own hut stood precisely on the boundary between them. Ashitaka reflected anew that this was his place. Exiled from the Emishi village and bearing a curse, he could no longer fully return to the world of men. Nor could he live as one of the Inugami clan. He could not become like San. He belonged neither to the humans nor to the forest. To stand upon that boundary—that was the role he had been given. "—Ashitaka, are you awake?" A high-pitched woman's voice flew up from the direction of the settlement. Looking, he saw a woman climbing the slope with sturdy strides. She seemed around forty years of age. In an indigo-dyed kimono, her apron still soiled, she carried an earthenware pot in both hands. Steam rose thinly from the gaps in the lid. It was Toki. The big-hearted matriarch who held the women of the Iwayado settlement together, she had once been the head of the women workers at Lady Eboshi's Tatara Works. She was also one of the few people in this land to whom Ashitaka could open his heart. "[gentle]Ah, Toki. Sorry to trouble you, as always." As Ashitaka raised a hand lightly, Toki came before the hut, slightly out of breath, and thrust the earthenware pot toward him. "[excited]What are you talking about? Making sure you're eating properly is practically my job now. Here, eat it while it's hot." As he accepted the pot, the faintly sweet scent of millet gruel drifted from the gap in the lid. A few leaves of wild greens floated on the surface, and the steam, carrying a hint of salt, tickled his nose. "[gentle]Thank you. This helps." Toki placed her hands on her hips and let out a sigh. Wiping away sweat, she glanced briefly toward the forest. "[serious]...Hey, Ashitaka. Have you noticed?" The tone of her voice was different from before. Ashitaka looked at her face without stopping his hand as he sipped the gruel. Toki furrowed her thick brows, staring intently toward the distant mountains. "[serious]These past few days, a strange sound has started. In the middle of the night, from far away—a clang, clang, clang." "A sound?" "[serious]The sound of iron being struck. And it's not just any blacksmithing sound. It's heavier, duller, the kind that seems to resonate deep into the ground..." Saying this, she clenched her fist and lightly tapped her own thigh. "[scared]—It sounds exactly like when they were forging the Ishibiya hand cannons." Ashitaka's fingers paused, ever so slightly. Ishibiya. Weapons that Lady Eboshi had commissioned using technology obtained from Ming China—iron tubes packed with gunpowder to fire projectiles. It was an Ishibiya that had once shot off the head of the Shishigami. "...Where is it coming from?" "[whispers]I don't know. But the direction is northwest. Toward the old Tatara Works." The old Tatara Works—the iron fortress Eboshi had built, where hundreds had once lived. It had been devastated by the great calamity of the Shishigami's return and should now be a ruin. Toki lowered her voice and continued. "[scared]Everyone in the settlement is uneasy. That great calamity—shooting off the head of the Forest's Lord God, the mountain burning, the forest all withering and dying. Lady Eboshi lost her arm and eventually died from the wound. Everyone says they never want to go through anything like that again." The great calamity of the Shishigami's return. On that day, everything changed. The forest, the people, himself. Ashitaka sipped his gruel in silence. Only the sensation of the millet grains passing down his throat felt unnervingly vivid. He quietly sensed what lay behind Toki's words—the complex gaze the people of the settlement directed at him, a cursed man. They were all afraid. Just as he was, Toki too wavered on the boundary between humans and forest. "[serious]...I'll go and check." Ashitaka finished his gruel and returned the earthenware pot to Toki. "[surprised]Right now? It'll be dark soon." "[gentle]There are things you can't see until it gets dark." Toki opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end, she only let out a small sigh. "[sad]...Don't push yourself too hard. If you were gone, I—and everyone in the settlement—would be in trouble." Leaving those words behind, she headed back down the slope, carrying the empty pot. Ashitaka tucked his short sword into his waist and tied a medicine pouch to his sash. Then, once more, he tightly rewrapped the cloth around his right arm. (I'll go.) He began to walk, slowly, toward the forest. --- The moment he crossed the boundary of the forest, the air changed. Cold, moisture-laden air clung to his skin. The moss underfoot was soft and spongy, and with every step, there was a faint sound of water. Looking up, the branches and leaves of the layered giant trees covered the sky, and the twilight's light no longer reached the ground. The Forest of the Shishigami had been regenerating at an abnormal speed since the great calamity. Trees that had once withered and died had now regained unbelievably thick trunks, and young shoots were breaking through the earth and stretching upward everywhere. It was as if the forest itself was desperately repairing its own body. But— Ashitaka stopped and strained his ears. It was too quiet. Normally, white, translucent forms would flit among the trees, and the constant clattering sound of their heads would be heard. The Kodama. Those little spirits were a barometer of the forest's vitality. Now, they were almost entirely absent. The few he finally managed to find were merely trembling faintly on high branches. As if terrified of something. "...What's happening?" He pressed further into the depths. He crossed a narrow tributary of the Misuzu River on stepping stones and passed beside a moss-covered boulder. Before long, an old stone marker appeared. It was one San had erected to mark the forbidden boundary of the forest. Humans were not permitted to enter beyond this point. Around the time he passed the stone marker, the mark on his right arm throbbed violently. It had been aching quietly until just a moment ago, but now it had suddenly transformed into a strong, distinct pain. As if warning him that something dangerous lay ahead. (...Something is there.) Ashitaka moved his hand to the short sword at his waist and advanced cautiously. --- On a narrow path just before the Valley of Withering, he found it. Several ancient cedars, their trunks as thick as a man's torso, had been felled carelessly at the base. The cuts were fresh, sap still oozing out, and a sweet, heavy scent hung in the air. They were the marks of being hacked apart with axes and hatchets, by brute force. Ashitaka crouched down on the spot and examined the ground. Countless footprints. The deeply gouged marks indicated that multiple adult men had walked around. And in an organized manner. The regularly arranged footprints were those of a trained group. And then— His fingertips touched a black powder spilled on the ground. He pinched some up and brought it close to his nose. In an instant, the smell of burnt saltpeter stung his nostrils. There was no mistake. Gunpowder. And it was that smell—the smell of the black powder that scatters destruction and death—that he had smelled countless times at Eboshi's Tatara Works. Gunpowder meant for loading into Ishibiya. Ashitaka slowly stood up. Something cold solidified deep in his chest. Someone was beginning to encroach upon this forest, systematically. Not mere woodcutters or poachers. An armed group was intentionally violating the forest's taboo and pushing deeper inside. And one more thing— "...Where is San?" He looked around. San, the daughter of the wolf gods, guarded this forest's forbidden ground alone. Normally, with such a clear violation, she would have been the first to catch the scent of blood and drive off the intruders. Yet, she was nowhere to be seen. Moreover, even the presence of beasts was faint. (...Did she go after them alone?) Ashitaka clenched his teeth. San hated him for being human, yet she still loved him. Ashitaka understood painfully well how much she herself suffered from that contradiction. To her, he was the sole "bond with a human" in this world. But at the same time—she cherished the forest, and the pride of the beasts, above all else. When those things came into conflict, she always rushed off on her own. "...Don't do anything reckless." The words he spoke aloud were swallowed by the stillness of the darkening forest. He made his decision. He would return to the settlement once, and at dawn, head even deeper into the forest to search for San. Advancing blindly in the current state would only be dangerous. As Ashitaka hurried back, the dull sound of iron echoed again from afar behind him. Clang... Clang... Clang... It tore mercilessly through the silence of the night, piercing deep into his chest, from the direction of the old Tatara Works—the direction of Kagura Fortress. (...Is it coming? Iron and fire, to this land once more.) Ashitaka did not look back. Without looking back, he simply walked briskly back toward his hut, standing on the boundary between two worlds. In the sky, the first star of the evening had begun to flicker, a single point of light.