The sound of ice and rock clashing grew louder with each passing second, reverberating through the circular chamber whose walls were carved to resemble massive boulders stacked upon one another. Every impact sent tremors through the floor, and fine cracks spiderwebbed across the concrete like dark veins. Ayaka Sumergi stood with her feet planted wide, her breath forming small white clouds in the cooling air as she faced off against Aya Hasegawa.

  Aya had shifted into her “Serious Form”—her hair now streaked with silver, her eyes glowing with a faint green light that matched the aura pulsing from her fingertips. Yet even with her power amplified, she held back, her movements careful, controlled. She knew that with every stone she conjured from the room’s structure, the building’s integrity weakened further—and her teammates were still trapped on the floors below.

  “Tired already, Sumergi-san? I know you can do more than that.”

  Aya’s voice cut through the chaos like shards of glass. Behind her, boulders the size of small cars materialized from the wall’s surface, grinding against one another as they floated into position. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she sent them hurtling toward Ayaka in a staggered formation—too many to dodge, too fast to block entirely.

  Knowing she couldn’t evade every single projectile, Ayaka raised both hands, her own blue aura flaring to life. Walls of solid ice erupted from the ground in front of her, layered thick enough to withstand the impact. The boulders smashed into the barriers with a series of deafening crashes, sending chunks of ice and rock scattering across the room.

  “I can’t find any openings,” Ayaka muttered under her breath, her gloved fingers tightening around the hilt of her katana. “She keeps cornering me with those rocks… and I know she’s still holding back. If she really wanted to, she could bring this whole room down around us.”

  She maintained her defensive stance as Aya pressed forward with relentless offense, conjuring new stones from the floor and ceiling alike. Each one was slightly larger than the last, each thrown with more force. Finally, after dodging three consecutive volleys, Ayaka saw her chance to counterattack—she drove her sword deep into the concrete, and ice spread outward in jagged, crystalline patterns across the ground, freezing everything in its path.

  “She’s trying to close in on me? I won’t let that happen!”

  Aya’s eyes narrowed as she watched the ice creep toward her feet. With a wave of her hand, nails lining every surface of the room—from the baseboards to the ceiling beams—tore loose from their fixtures, metal screeching against wood and stone. She bent them to her will with barely a thought, and soon a swirling mass of jagged rocks and sharp metal floated behind her like a deadly halo, spinning slowly in the air.

  “I thought you didn’t want the building to collapse,” Ayaka called out, her voice carrying over the sound of grinding stone. “Why remove the nails? Without them, the walls could give way at any moment.”

  Aya’s lips curved into a slight smile. “One room without its fasteners won’t bring the whole structure down. It’s fine—this old place has more support than you think. Besides, I know my limits.”

  Ayaka pulled her sword from the ground, leaving the ice intact where it had spread across the floor. The blade was already frosted over, even though she hadn’t consciously summoned any cold to it. “This plan is risky… probably the most dangerous thing I’ve ever tried. But it’s better than doing nothing while she keeps pushing me back!”

  With that, she launched forward, gliding across the icy surface as if on skates. Wherever her feet touched, more ice spread outward, freezing every inch of ground beneath her and creating a smooth path that let her move with incredible speed.

  “I don’t know what you’re plotting, Sumergi-san, but it won’t work!” Aya hurled her entire arsenal—rocks and nails both—toward Ayaka in a single, overwhelming wave.

  Ayaka didn’t stop moving. Instead, she summoned multiple ice barriers in quick succession, each one positioned to block a section of the assault while still letting her advance. The projectiles smashed into the ice with a rain of impacts, but she kept moving forward, veering sharply to her right as she raced toward the far wall. With a powerful leap that sent ice shards flying from her boots, she planted her feet against the stone—and where she touched it, ice spread instantly, anchoring her in place like frozen claws.

  Aya closed the distance quickly, her green aura flaring brighter. “I told you this would be useless! Your ice can’t protect you forever!”

  Her supply of nails was exhausted, but she continued to forge new rocks from the room’s foundation, pulling material directly from the concrete walls. As she lunged toward Ayaka, she threw three stones in quick succession—each one aimed slightly off-target, just enough to buy her time to get close enough to strike with her bare hands.

  “This is getting annoying,” Ayaka grumbled, darting sideways along the icy wall to a new position. The stones Aya threw shattered through the concrete behind her, leaving gaping holes that let in streaks of daylight from outside. She glanced back, her heart racing as she saw how deeply they’d embedded themselves in the opposite wall. “If one of those had hit me square… I’d be dead for sure.”

  Before she could fully regain her balance, Aya was already behind her, moving with a speed that belied her size. Ayaka pushed off the wall and landed lightly on the ground, slamming her palm against the floor the moment her boots touched down. The ice she’d left behind exploded outward, spreading faster than ever before—crawling up the walls, across the ceiling, even seeping into the cracks between stones.

  Aya dove aside at the last second, rolling across the floor and narrowly avoiding being trapped beneath a sheet of ice that would have encased her completely. She sprang to her feet, her breathing heavy as she backed away from the advancing cold.

  The room’s temperature had plummeted dramatically. Frost coated every surface, and Aya’s breath billowed in thick white clouds that hung in the air for seconds before dissipating. She stood still, watching Ayaka carefully, her green eyes tracking every slight movement.

  “Aren’t you freezing?” Aya called out, rubbing her arms as goosebumps rose on her skin. “Your ice has made this place unbearable. Even I can barely stand it, and I’m used to harsh conditions.”

  “Of course not—I control the cold,” Ayaka replied, forcing her voice to stay steady even as she felt shivers running down her spine.

  “That’s a complete lie,” she thought, her teeth clenched against the chill. “My own power is making me miserable, but I need her to think I have the upper hand here. If she believes I’m unaffected, she might make a mistake.”

  The ice that had brushed Aya’s position while she dodged crept toward her feet like slow-moving water, thin and almost invisible against the concrete. Aya reacted instantly, her aura flaring as she leaped upward with incredible force—her fist connecting with the ceiling and shattering it completely, creating a gaping hole that let her escape to the floor above. The ice below her erupted into sharp spikes that shot upward in pursuit, their tips glowing with cold energy.

  As Aya landed on the upper level, walls of ice rose up around her from every direction, forming a perfect cage that sealed her in. The spiked ice continued to climb, reaching the floor she now stood on and solidifying into a stable, frosted surface beneath her feet—preventing her from falling back down even as it trapped her in place.

  “Damn it! You tricked me!” Aya slammed her fist against the ice wall, which shuddered but held firm. “How long have you been planning this?”

  “How do you like it?” Ayaka called up from below, her voice echoing through the hole in the ceiling. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to put this into action.”

  “What did you do? How did you get ice up here before I even jumped?”

  “Didn’t you notice the small gap in the ceiling tiles while you were attacking me earlier? It was barely visible—just a crack no bigger than my finger. When I drove my sword into the floor the first time, I sent a tiny strand of ice creeping through that opening—slowly, quietly, all while keeping you distracted with my attacks. I positioned myself carefully to force you to dodge to your right, though I knew there was a fifty-fifty chance you’d go left instead. The moment your feet touched the ground up there, that hidden ice activated and spread across your position faster than you could react. You could have dodged sideways if you’d wanted to, but you knew the ice would just keep growing… so you broke through the ceiling, hoping to get the high ground and attack me from above. Exactly as I planned.”

  Aya stood in silence for a moment, her hands resting against the ice walls that surrounded her. “So I was just dancing to your tune this whole time? Following every step you wanted me to take? I wonder what he will think of this when I tell him I lost to your tricks.”

  Her voice echoed through the ice prison, making the walls hum with vibration.

  The ice box hummed with cold energy, its walls gleaming like polished crystal under the faint light filtering through the hole above. Ayaka stood below, her chest heaving from the exertion of maintaining such a complex construct, her muscles screaming for rest. Silence fell over the shattered room—broken only by the rattle of loose debris shifting on the floor and Aya’s muffled breathing from within her prison. Ayaka wiped frost from her brow with the back of her glove, her own breath forming small clouds in the frigid air.

  “It’s over, Aya. Surrender now, and I’ll make sure you’re taken alive. I’ll talk to the council—explain that you were acting under duress, that you held back when you could have killed me.”

  From inside the cage came a low laugh that vibrated through the ice until thin cracks spiderwebbed across its surface. “Taken alive? You forget what this is, Sumergi-san—a battle to the death. We both knew that when we started fighting. You don’t get to choose how it ends just because you’ve gained the upper hand.”

  Before Ayaka could respond, the entire building shook with a force that sent her stumbling backward. Dust rained from every surface, and the ice box above groaned under immense pressure, its walls beginning to warp and bend as if under the weight of something enormous. Density manipulation, Ayaka realized with a jolt of fear. I forgot—she can alter the weight and hardness of anything she touches. Even ice.

  The ice exploded outward in a shower of razor-sharp shards that flew in every direction. Ayaka raised her arms to protect her face and chest, feeling a searing pain as a piece cut through her sleeve and sliced across her forearm, leaving a deep gash that immediately began to bleed. When she lowered her guard and looked up, she saw Aya standing on the edge of the broken ceiling, silhouetted against the dim light filtering through the hole she’d made earlier. But she was different now—all trace of her earlier restraint was gone.

  Her hair had turned completely silver, and her eyes were no longer green but a deep, almost glowing black. A faint purple aura emanated from her hands and spread outward, warping the air around her like heat rising from asphalt on a hot day. Instead of the small rocks she’d been conjuring before, massive chunks of the building’s foundation hovered around her—pieces of concrete and steel torn directly from the walls and floor, each one large enough to crush a car.

  “I told you I was holding back,” Aya said, her voice cold and flat, stripped of all emotion. “But you left me no choice. You forced me to use power I’d rather keep hidden. Now… there’s no reason to spare anyone in this building. If they’re foolish enough to stay while we fight, they deserve what comes to them.”

  Ayaka’s blood ran cold as she thought of her own teammates—Tatsuya and Ren were somewhere inside, searching for her, while Aya’s friends were trapped on the lower floors. If Aya decided to bring the entire structure down, everyone inside would die. She gripped her sword tighter, the ice on its blade gleaming in the low light despite the warmth of her blood seeping through her glove.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction. “You said yourself that one room without nails wouldn’t collapse the building. But if you start tearing apart the foundation like this…”

  Aya smiled—a terrifying, empty expression that sent chills down Ayaka’s spine despite the cold. “I lied. Just like you lied about not being cold. We all have our tricks, don’t we, Sumergi-san? You lied to gain an advantage, and I lied to keep you from panicking. This building has been unstable for years—one good push would bring it all down around our ears.”

  With a flick of her wrist, she sent one of the massive foundation chunks soaring toward Ayaka at incredible speed. It moved too fast to dodge, too large to block entirely. Ayaka summoned the thickest ice wall she could manage, pouring every ounce of remaining energy into it—but the chunk smashed through the barrier as if it were made of glass, sending shards of ice and concrete flying in all directions. The impact sent Ayaka flying backward, her body slamming into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone. The wind was knocked from her lungs, and her sword clattered across the icy floor as she slid to a stop, gasping for breath.

  Aya landed lightly beside her, her purple aura pulsing as the remaining foundation pieces circled overhead like vultures. Ayaka tried to push herself up, but pain shot through her ribs—she could feel at least one of them was cracked, maybe broken. Her forearm was bleeding heavily, and her vision was starting to blur at the edges. Her sword lay just out of reach, glinting coldly in the faint light.

  “Pathetic,” Aya said, stepping closer until her shadow fell over Ayaka’s prone form. “All that planning, all that cleverness… and you still lost. You’re weak, Sumergi-san—weak because you care about others more than you care about winning. Weak because you won’t kill, even when you know it’s necessary.”

  Ayaka glared up at her, her teeth clenched against the pain. “At least I’m not a monster. At least I don’t think sacrificing innocent people is an acceptable price for whatever it is you’re fighting for.”

  Aya’s face darkened, the purple glow around her hands flaring brighter. “Monster? You know nothing about me. Nothing about why I do this, nothing about what I’ve lost, nothing about the promises I’ve made. You just see an enemy and judge me based on your own narrow understanding of right and wrong.”

  She raised her hand, and a small piece of concrete floated from the floor into her palm. She squeezed her fingers closed, and the concrete compressed under the force of her power, shrinking smaller and smaller until it became a tiny, dense sphere that weighed so much it made a deep indent in the ice when she set it down. “But fine—if that’s what you want to believe, if that’s what makes it easier for you to fight me, then I’ll act the part of the monster you want me to be.”

  She waved her hand, and the remaining foundation chunks began to descend toward Ayaka, moving slowly at first then accelerating faster and faster. Ayaka closed her eyes, bracing for the impact that would surely end her life—but at the last second, she felt a surge of cold energy rise from within her, stronger and more pure than anything she’d ever known. It flowed through her veins like liquid ice, chasing away the pain and clearing her vision.

  When she opened her eyes, the world was bathed in a pale blue light that seemed to come from her own body. The ice on the floor had spread outward, covering every inch of the room in a thick, smooth layer, and sharp icicles had grown from every surface—walls, ceiling, even the remaining pieces of furniture—all pointing toward Aya like thousands of frozen spears. Ayaka pushed herself up to her feet, feeling lighter and stronger than she ever had before as the cold energy coursed through her. Her sword flew from across the room into her hand, its blade now covered in a thick layer of ice that glowed with the same pale blue light as her aura.

  “This is my true power,” she said, her voice steady and clear, carrying across the room without effort. “I’ve been holding back too—not because I’m weak, but because I’m afraid of what I might do if I let go. My ice isn’t just cold—it’s pure, concentrated order, and it can bring balance to any chaos.”

  Aya raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed despite the obvious shift in Ayaka’s power. “True power? Let’s see if it’s enough to stop me, then.”

  She sent all the remaining foundation chunks flying at Ayaka at once, creating a wall of concrete and steel that blocked out everything else. Ayaka didn’t dodge or try to run. Instead, she raised her sword and swung it in a wide, graceful arc, releasing a wave of cold energy that hit the incoming chunks head-on. The energy froze them instantly, turning the massive pieces of debris into solid blocks of ice that crashed to the floor with a thunderous roar, shattering into thousands of smaller pieces that skittered across the icy surface like frozen pebbles.

  But Aya was already moving. She’d used the distraction to close the gap between them, her body moving with impossible speed as she ducked under Ayaka’s swing and brushed her hand against the glowing blade of her sword. The moment her skin touched the ice, the density of the blade shifted instantly—it became impossibly heavy, so much so that Ayaka could barely hold onto it. It slammed into the floor with enough force to shatter the ice beneath it and crack the concrete below.

  Before Ayaka could recover from the shock, Aya punched her in the stomach. She’d increased the density of her fist to match that of solid steel, making the blow feel like being hit by a sledgehammer. Ayaka doubled over, gasping for air as pain shot through her entire body, and Aya followed up with a sharp kick to the side of her head that sent her sprawling to the floor, her vision blurring and her ears ringing.

  Aya stood over her, her hand raised again as she prepared to deliver the final blow. “You see? Your ice is powerful, I’ll give you that. But it’s still just matter—solid, tangible, and subject to the same laws that govern everything else in this world. And I can control the density of any matter. No matter how strong your ice becomes, I can make it heavy enough to crush you, or light enough to shatter like glass. You can’t win this.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Ayaka tried to push herself up, but her body wouldn’t respond. Every muscle screamed in protest, and the cold energy that had sustained her was starting to fade, leaving her feeling weak and exhausted. She thought of Tatsuya and Ren—if she died here, Aya would kill them too, along with anyone else still in the building. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let that happen.

  With one last burst of strength that felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside out, she summoned a thin wall of ice between herself and Aya. It was barely strong enough to withstand a single punch, but it gave her just enough time. She closed her eyes and focused all her remaining energy on the ice around her, channeling everything she had into making it grow faster and thicker than ever before.

  The ice spread across the room at an alarming rate, climbing up the walls and across the ceiling until the entire chamber was encased in a massive frozen dome. Sharp icicles grew from every surface of the dome, pointing inward like the teeth of some enormous beast. The temperature dropped so low that even Aya’s breath turned to thick frost that hung in the air like smoke, and the purple glow around her hands began to dim.

  When Ayaka opened her eyes, the dome was complete—its walls so thick that no light could penetrate them from outside, leaving the room bathed in the pale blue glow of her ice. She pushed herself up to her feet, her legs shaking so badly she could barely stand, and faced Aya, who stood in the center of the dome with her arms crossed, her expression finally showing a hint of concern.

  “This is it,” Ayaka whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the ice creaking and groaning under its own weight. “If I can’t beat you, then I’ll take you down with me. This dome is so dense that if it collapses—and it will, soon—it will crush us both, and take this entire floor with it. But it will also slow the building’s collapse long enough for my teammates to escape. For your teammates to escape too.”

  Aya looked around the dome, her eyes tracing the sharp icicles that surrounded them, then back to Ayaka. After a long moment of silence, she smiled—but this time, the expression wasn’t cold or mocking. There was sadness in her eyes, and something else too—something that looked almost like respect.

  “You’d really die for them,” she said, her voice softer than before. “For people you barely know, for people who might not even appreciate what you’re doing. I admire that. I used to be able to feel that way too—used to care about more than just the mission, more than just surviving another day.”

  She shook her head, and the purple glow around her hands faded completely. “But you’re wrong about one thing. I won’t let this dome collapse. And I won’t kill you—not today.”

  Ayaka stared at her, confused. “What? You said this was a battle to the death. You said we both knew what we were getting into.”

  Aya shook her head again, walking closer until she was just a few feet away. “I said that to make you fight—to make you stop holding back and show me what you’re really capable of. And you did. You’re stronger than I thought you were, Sumergi-san. Stronger than most of the people I’ve fought. Strong enough to be a threat to what we’re doing… but also strong enough to be an asset, if you ever choose to see things our way.”

  She raised her hand, and the density of the dome began to shift. The thick walls grew lighter and softer, and the sharp icicles started to melt, dripping water onto the floor below. The dome shuddered and then began to crumble, sending chunks of ice crashing to the ground around them. Ayaka stumbled backward, her eyes wide as she watched the structure she’d built with so much effort fall apart in seconds.

  When the dust settled, Aya stood in front of her, her silver hair fading back to its natural dark brown, her eyes returning to their usual green. The aura around her was gone completely, leaving her looking like nothing more than a normal girl—tired, bruised, and worn out from fighting.

  “I’m leaving you here,” she said, turning toward the broken ceiling. “But this isn’t over. If we meet again—and we will—the battlefield will be different. Next time, I won’t hold back. Next time, there won’t be any second chances.”

  Before Ayaka could respond, Aya leaped up through the hole in the ceiling and disappeared from sight. Ayaka stood there for a long moment, her body aching, her mind racing. She’d lost the fight—there was no denying that. But she’d also saved her teammates, and maybe even Aya’s friends too. That would have to be enough. For now.

  “What’s wrong, Kazenagi-kun? Do you wish none of this had happened today?”

  I stood at the doorway of the abandoned building we’d used as a temporary base, my hand on the frame as I stared out at the bright sunlight that burned my eyes. The events of the morning were still playing over and over in my head—Ayaka’s fight with Aya, the building shaking around us, the way Aya had just… left. I still didn’t understand Yuuto Hienami’s shin’en, didn’t understand what drove him and his friends to do what they did. And deep down, in a part of me I tried not to acknowledge, I knew they weren’t truly evil. They were fighting for something they believed in, just like we were. I needed to know why.

  With a steadying breath, I stepped outside, my hand moving to the hilt of my sword as I steeled myself for what was to come. I’d asked Yuuto to meet me here, in the cluster of abandoned buildings just outside the city limits. I needed answers, and I was willing to fight for them if I had to.

  The scene that greeted me was nothing like I expected. We stood in the middle of what had once been a small residential neighborhood, but every house was empty and decaying—windows broken, doors hanging off their hinges, weeds growing through cracks in the concrete. There were no people, no animals, no sounds at all except for the wind whistling through empty frames. The main structure loomed ahead of us: three stories tall, painted white at some point but now faded to gray, shaped like a “U” with a courtyard in the center. It looked exactly like an abandoned school, with tall windows and a wide entrance that led into darkness.

  Confusion twisted in my gut as I looked around. Why had he chosen this place? Why here, where there was nothing and no one to get in the way?

  “That’s more like it,” Yuuto said, his voice quiet but clear, cutting through the heavy silence. He stood in the center of the courtyard, his hands in the pockets of his black jacket, his dark hair blowing across his face in the wind.

  “Tell me, Hienami-san,” I began, taking a step forward. My hands were trembling despite my efforts to stop them, and I could feel sweat rolling down my back under my uniform. “What do the three of you want? What are you fighting for? Is it to avenge your mother? I heard what happened to her—about the man who pushed her aside to save himself.”

  “To avenge my mother… huh?” Yuuto looked away from me, his eyes fixed on the abandoned school behind me. He walked slowly to the center of the courtyard, his boots crunching on broken glass and gravel, before turning to face me again. “I remember that day clearly. I was only twelve years old, standing on the street corner with her while we waited to cross. There was an accident—a truck lost control and careened onto the sidewalk. That man—he was a Yomu executioner, same as us—he saw it coming and pushed her out of the way so he could get to safety. She hit her head on the curb and never woke up.”

  He paused, closing his hand into a fist so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I found him three months later. I was still just a kid, still learning to control my shin’en, but I killed him anyway. I made his blood turn against him, made it flow from every pore in his body until there was nothing left.”

  A shiver ran down my spine at the coldness in his voice. “I always wondered why she was smiling when it happened. The paramedics said she had a peaceful look on her face, like she wasn’t afraid. Did she want to die? Was she insane? Or did she know something I didn’t? I spent years asking myself those questions, driving myself crazy trying to find answers. But eventually, I moved on. Now we have another reason to fight… for him.”

  Who is this “him”? Their leader? I thought, my grip on my sword tightening. “I’m sorry about what happened to your mother, Hienami-san. No one should have to go through that. But I don’t believe your plan—whatever it is—will bring happiness to you or peace to her memory. Violence only begets more violence.”

  I drew my sword, the steel ringing out clearly in the empty courtyard as I aimed the tip at him. He stood perfectly still, his hands still in his pockets, his eyes fixed on mine with an intense, menacing gaze that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  “Ren Kazenagi,” he said in a low tone, his voice barely more than a whisper but carrying across the entire courtyard. “I really hate you. I hate that you have everything I never did—supportive friends, a family that loves you, a clear path forward. I hate that you can still believe in good and evil, right and wrong, when the world has shown me over and over that none of those things matter.”

  Before I could respond, a massive wave of aura exploded from his body—crimson red and deep black, swirling together like smoke and fire. It was the same color as my own shin’en, but there was something fundamentally different about his power. It felt wrong, twisted somehow, like it was drawing strength from pain and suffering rather than from balance and order. I shouldn’t have been surprised—he wasn’t a Mei-rank executioner for nothing. Only the strongest among us reached that level before turning twenty.

  He raised his right hand to chest level, his fingers extended as he pointed directly at me. I gripped my sword tighter, my knuckles aching, sweat rolling down my temple despite the cool wind. A single drop of blood welled up at the tip of his index finger, then fell to the ground, making a sound so loud it seemed to echo across the empty neighborhood—plink—like a stone dropping into a deep well.

  The blood spread across the concrete in a small pool, glowing faintly with the same crimson and black light as his aura before something began to emerge from it. First a handle, wrapped in what looked like dark leather but was actually solidified blood. Then a blade—long and curved, red as fresh blood, with liquid seeming to flow along its length like water in a river. Even from several feet away, I could smell the coppery scent of blood hanging in the air around it. I knew immediately what his ability was.

  “Blood manipulation?” I said aloud, my voice betraying my shock. “That’s one of the rarest shin’en types—only a handful of executioners have ever wielded it. I can’t believe I’m about to fight someone who controls blood like this.”

  “And you’ll die by the hand of someone who controls blood,” Yuuto replied, his eyes never leaving mine as he wrapped his fingers around the handle of his blood-formed sword. The blade gleamed in the sunlight, looking sharp enough to cut through anything.

  I had no intention of attacking first. My plan was simple: I knew I wasn’t strong enough to beat him—not yet. So I’d focus on learning his fighting style, understanding how his shin’en worked, figuring out its limits and weaknesses. And if I had to admit it to myself—I hoped the mysterious creature that lived inside me would take control. I still didn’t know if it was friend or foe, if its power was something I could trust or something that would consume me. But right now, I had no other options.

  Yuuto struck first—faster than I could follow. One moment he was standing ten feet away, and the next he was gone, vanished into thin air. I felt movement behind me, a shift in the air that sent my instincts screaming. I jumped as high as I could, pushing off the ground with my shin’en to give myself extra height. He reappeared where I’d been standing just a second earlier, his blood sword slicing through empty air with a soft shush sound.

  I could never have dodged that before, I thought, my heart racing as I hung in the air. My training with Master Kuroda must be paying off.

  Yuuto didn’t waste any time. He held out his left hand, and blood streamed from his palm in thin, almost invisible strings that moved through the air like living things. They wrapped around me mid-air before I could even react, tightening around my arms and legs until I could barely move. “This is bad!”

  He pulled his arm to his chest, yanking me toward him with incredible force. His blood sword was pointed upward, its sharp tip aimed directly at my chest. I knew I had only seconds to act. I swung my sword with all my strength, slicing through the blood strings that held me. They cut easily, dissolving into droplets that fell to the ground, but I was already hurtling toward his weapon.

  Using my shin’en, I created a small platform of solidified aura beneath my feet—just big enough to stand on. I leaped off it, changing direction at the last second and avoiding his sword by inches. The tip of his blade grazed my jacket, tearing a small hole in the fabric.

  Yuuto followed me into the air, appearing directly in front of me with no warning. “What? How did you—”

  He threw his blood sword at me with lightning speed. I knocked it aside with my own blade, watching it spin through the air and fall toward the ground—but I knew immediately it was just a distraction. By the time I realized what he’d done, he was already in front of me, his left hand slamming into my chest with enough force to drive the air from my lungs.

  I coughed up blood, feeling something crack in my ribs as I was sent flying backward through the air. The world spun around me, buildings and sky blurring together as I struggled to regain my balance and find a safe place to land. But Yuuto was faster than I could imagine—when I finally managed to look back, he was already behind me again, his body moving with impossible grace through the air.

  I spun and swung my sword at him without thinking, cutting him clean in half from shoulder to hip. But instead of blood and flesh, his body dissolved into a cloud of crimson mist that quickly dissipated into the air. A clone.

  I created another platform to steady myself, hovering twenty feet above the ground as I scanned the area for any sign of him. I spotted him on the roof of the abandoned school, standing perfectly still as he looked down at me. Confusion washed over me—how had he moved so far so fast? How had he created a clone that looked and felt so real? I clutched my chest, the pain from his punch still sharp and burning, and felt warm blood seeping through my uniform.

  Then he disappeared again, leaving only a cloud of dust in his wake as he moved too fast for my eyes to track. He’s gone? Where did he—

  I sensed movement behind me, a familiar shift in the air. I turned just in time to see his blood sword flying upward, still accelerating as it spun end over end. As I watched, mesmerized by the way the liquid blade caught the light, the handle melted into blood and began to reshape itself—forming into Yuuto’s figure in seconds, complete with his jacket and dark hair. He grabbed the blade as it finished transforming, pointing it downward at me with deadly accuracy.

  I jumped off my platform without thinking, reaching toward the ground and releasing a cloud of dark-red mist from my hands. The mist slowed my fall, letting me drift downward instead of plummeting, but I knew Yuuto wouldn’t give me even that small reprieve. When I looked back, he was gone again—vanished into thin air just as he had before.

  I crashed into the front of a broken-down house, my body slamming through what was left of a window and landing in a pile of splintered wood and drywall. The impact knocked the wind from me again, but I was lucky—no serious injuries, just more bruises and cuts. I pushed myself up, coughing as dust filled my lungs, and brushed splinters and debris from my clothes as I made my way to the doorway.

  “Tired already, Kazenagi-san?”

  I spun around so fast I nearly lost my balance, drawing my sword again as I saw him standing behind me, leaning against what was left of a wall with his arms crossed. He looked completely relaxed, like he hadn’t been fighting at all. “How do you keep appearing behind me? How do your clones work?”

  “I’ve been playing with you,” he said, pushing off the wall and walking slowly toward me as I backed away, keeping my sword pointed at him. “I wanted to teach you a lesson—show you how much stronger you need to be if you want to stop us. Besides… our goal isn’t to kill you or your friends. We have no interest in hurting innocent people.”

  His hands remained in his pockets as he walked with his head bowed, his eyes fixed on the ground. “We’re only following orders—everything we’ve done, including calling your friends here to fight us. I don’t know...why we were told to target you specifically. To test their shin’en? To see how strong you’ve become? I have no idea. None of us do—we just follow his orders without question. But we trust him completely. He’s never led us wrong before.”

  So this “him” really is their leader, I thought, backing toward the door as Yuuto kept advancing. The one Aya mentioned too. Who is he? What does he want with us?

  “Then why did you call Ayaka and Tatsuya here?” I asked, my voice steady despite the fear coiling in my stomach. “Why put them in danger if you don’t want to hurt anyone?”

  Yuuto stopped walking and lifted his head to look at me, his dark eyes serious. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “All we were told was to draw you three out, to test your abilities in combat. He said it was necessary for what’s coming. That’s all we know.”

  As he spoke, his right hand began to dissolve into blood, the red liquid dripping from his fingers onto the floor. His blood sword, which had been resting against the wall beside him, clattered to the ground before melting away into a puddle of crimson that seeped into the wood planks.

  What’s happening? Is he hurt? Did I manage to injure him without realizing it?

  Before I could react, a sharp pain tore through my stomach, and blood spilled from my mouth, coating my lips and chin with warm liquid. I looked down in shock to see a sword protruding from my abdomen, its blade red and wet with my blood. I coughed, more blood bubbling up from my throat, and turned to see Yuuto standing behind me, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his weapon. When I glanced back at where he’d been moments ago, only a puddle of blood remained on the floor, slowly spreading across the wood.

  “So you can create clones from blood,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting to stay conscious as pain washed over me in waves. “That’s incredible—you can make them look and feel exactly like you, even to someone who can sense aura.”

  He pulled the sword free with deliberate care, and I staggered forward, catching myself against the doorframe. I could feel the wound bleeding heavily, but as I pressed my hand against it, I realized he’d deliberately avoided my vital organs. He really didn’t want to kill me—he’d just wanted to disable me.

  The moment the blade was out, I spun and swung my sword at him with all the strength I had left. I was fueled by pain and anger, by the frustration of being toyed with, and I aimed directly for his chest.

  He dodged with impossible grace, arching backward while still standing upright, his body bending in a way that should have been impossible. “He’s fast—faster than anyone I’ve ever fought!”

  He caught my blade with his bare hand, and blood immediately began to seep from his palm onto the steel. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he sent me flying upward, my body floating off the ground as if I weighed nothing at all. Before I could even process what was happening, he planted both feet on my chest and kicked me hard—sending me crashing through the house’s ceiling, which shattered into splinters and dust under the impact. I kept soaring through the air for several seconds before gravity finally took hold and pulled me downward.

  But Yuuto wasn’t done. Blood burst from his back in thick streams, forming massive wings that spread wide against the sky—each one made of solidified blood, with sharp talons at the tips. He launched himself after me, his wings beating powerfully as he flew through the air, his blood sword reappearing in his hand as he raised it to strike.

  I channeled every last ounce of my shin’en to boost my reflexes, forcing my body to move faster than it should have been able to. I righted myself just in time to block his attack, our blades clashing with a deafening ring that echoed across the abandoned neighborhood. I summoned another platform of solidified aura beneath my feet to stand on, facing him as he hovered in the air a few feet away, his blood wings beating slowly.

  “I wonder if you could ever beat my full power,” he said, his eyes scanning me up and down as if assessing my strength. “But the you right now—you don’t stand a chance. You’re holding back too much, afraid of what you’re capable of.”

  “We’ll see about that!” I shouted, pushing off the platform and launching myself at him.

  We exchanged blow after blow, our swords ringing out across the empty sky with each clash. Flashes of crimson and deep red light streaked through the air as our auras collided, every strike heavy enough to shatter stone, every movement faster than the human eye could follow. The wind whipped past us, tearing at our clothes and hair as we danced through the air, neither of us willing to give an inch.

  “I don’t need that power to fight you!” I shouted, pushing back against him with all my strength. “I have strength of my own—strength I’ve earned through training, through hard work, through caring about the people around me!”

  Dad believed in me. He said I’d become a great Yomu executioner, that I’d be able to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves. I won’t let him down.

  Something stirred inside me—a warmth that spread from my chest outward, pushing back the pain and exhaustion. Yuuto’s attacks didn’t slow down, but suddenly, I could keep up. My movements became smoother, more precise. I could anticipate his strikes before he even made them.

  “His speed is matching mine now?” Yuuto thought, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “I’ve only been using 30% of my power… I guess I’ll have to increase it if I want to end this.”

  His blood wings expanded further, growing twice their original size as more blood poured from his back to fuel them. Thick, sharp drills formed from the blood extending from the edges of the wings—dozens of them, each one as long as my arm and sharp enough to pierce steel. They floated in the air around him, spinning slowly as they waited for his command.

  Is he finally going to kill me? I thought, backing away slightly as I assessed the new threat.

  I pushed him back with all my strength to create some distance between us, then fell toward the ground, releasing a cloud of crimson particles from my hands to slow my descent. I landed lightly on the roof of another abandoned house, my sword raised as I watched Yuuto hover above me.

  “This will end quickly,” Yuuto announced, his voice carrying clearly over the wind. “I’ve wasted enough time playing with you.”

  He unleashed all the blood drills at once, sending them hurtling toward me in a massive wave. I shot upward, weaving through the projectiles with every ounce of speed I possessed as I raced toward him. Some of the drills missed and slammed into the ground below, reducing abandoned houses to piles of rubble and sending dust and debris into the air.

  So that’s why he chose this place—open space with no one around, so he could use his power without hurting innocent people, I realized as I dodged another drill by inches. He really doesn’t want to kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

  If this wasn’t even his full strength, I truly had no way to win. But I refused to give up. I couldn’t give up—not when Ayaka and Tatsuya were counting on me, not when there were people who needed protecting. He kept pulling away, maintaining distance as he flew circles around me, throwing more blood projectiles every time I got close. I pushed myself harder than I ever had before, speeding up while dodging every attack, and roared at the top of my lungs as I closed in on him.

  “It’s useless, Kazenagi-kun! You’re already at your limit!” he shouted over the wind. “Your body can’t take much more—you’re bleeding internally, your shin’en is nearly exhausted, and you’re running on nothing but willpower!”

  “Then I’ll break through my limit until I win!” I screamed back, feeling the wound in my stomach throbbing with every movement. It was bleeding more heavily now, and I could feel my strength fading fast, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t afford to stop.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dodging and weaving, I closed the gap between us. I raised my sword to strike, ready to give everything I had left—then I felt a searing pain in my back, followed by a splash of warm liquid in the air.

  Birds took flight from nearby rooftops at the sound, their chirping suddenly loud in the otherwise quiet sky.

  The blood was mine. One of Yuuto’s blood drills had pierced my back, going clean through my left shoulder and emerging from the front. At the same time, his hand was already gripping my sword, having blocked my attack while striking me at the same time. He’d planned it perfectly—using the drill as a distraction while he moved in close to stop me.

  “Like I said—quick work,” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

  He pulled the drill free, and I felt my legs give out as pain washed over me. I plummeted from the sky, my body limp and unresponsive, until I landed in a large pile of hay in the backyard of one of the abandoned houses. The soft bales broke my fall just enough to keep me from being killed instantly, but I still felt several bones crack as I hit the ground.

  Yuuto followed me down, landing lightly beside the haystack. He grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me out, throwing me onto the dirt ground with enough force to make me cough up more blood.

  “I don’t care anymore,” he growled, his eyes dark with anger as he raised his blood sword high above his head. “I’ve tried to be reasonable, I’ve tried to show you mercy, but you just won’t give up. I’ll kill you right here, right now—then I’ll deal with your friends.”

  I had nothing left. My shin’en was completely exhausted, my body covered in wounds, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I could only lie there on the dirt, watching as his sword descended toward my head, the red blade glinting in the sunlight. It was just an inch away—so close I could feel the cold of the steel against my skin.

  “Stop there at once.”

  The voice was deep and distorted, like it was coming from far away and right next to us at the same time. Yuuto froze instantly, the tip of his sword hovering just above my forehead. We both turned toward the sound, which seemed to come from the edge of the courtyard where the abandoned school stood.

  A shadow moved at the edge of our vision—dark and formless, shifting and twisting like smoke. Then a figure stepped into the light, moving slowly toward us with deliberate, measured steps.

  He was tall and lean, dressed in a long black coat that reached all the way to the ground, with a high collar that hid most of his face. He wore a black mask that covered everything from his nose down, leaving only his eyes visible—and his right eye glowed with a bright, menacing red light that seemed to pierce through me. His hands were tucked into his coat pockets, and he moved with an effortless grace that made it clear he was far stronger than either of us.

  Yuuto began to shake, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool wind. He dropped his sword immediately, falling to one knee as he bowed his head low. “My lord… I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

  The aura radiating from the stranger was unlike anything I’d ever felt—vast and overwhelming, pressing down on me with enough force to make it hard to breathe. It felt like standing too close to a fire, heat washing over me even as I felt cold with fear. I knew instinctively that if I tried to fight him, I’d die instantly—there was no contest, no chance of victory.

  This is the power of a Shinrei-rank Yomu executioner, I realized with a jolt of terror. Only a handful of people in the entire world had reached that level—the highest rank a Yomu executioner could achieve, a level of power that bordered on the supernatural.

  “This boy plays an important role in what’s to come,” the masked man said, his voice echoing in my ears like stones grinding together. “We can’t let him die yet—not when he’s key to everything we’ve been working toward.”

  Yuuto bowed his head lower, his body trembling. “My apologies, my lord. I let my emotions get the better of me. I forgot our purpose.”

  The stranger’s red eye fixed on me for a long moment—long enough that I felt like he could see straight through my skin, through my bones, into the very core of who I was. He studied me carefully, his gaze moving from my face down to my wounds and back up again. His powers are not just ordinary, if I facd him, I'm surr I'll get killed instantly. This level is a Shinrei-rank.