Mokoto and Saito were barely separated, staggered and bruised in the ravaged center of the fighting ring. Their chests heaved in violent, ragged rhythm. Ten brutal, unforgiving minutes had pushed both men past their breaking points.
Exhaustion was a physical presence, a weight crushing Mokoto the hardest. His body quivered, his lungs burning with every insufficient breath. Only sheer will kept him upright. He locked eyes with Saito, hiding the trembling behind an expression of hard resolve.
My insides are a furnace… I'm the one who's eaten the damage. My muscles are vibrating so fiercely, the sounds I'm hearing feels like it's coming From miles away, and my left eye is almost useless.
Mokoto lowered his head. He didn't hide the smile that spread across his face—a sudden, unsettling gesture that stunned Saito.
"What seems to be funny?" Saito asked, his voice flat, his stance still coiled and ready.
Mokoto's smile widened into a predatory grin as he raised his head.
"Most of this fight, I've been on the defensive. Just trying to figure out your rhythm, to map the true extent of your skill. I'll admit it: if you had kept up your hand-to-hand training from back then until now, I'd be in serious trouble. It would've taken me half an hour longer to read your style."
He paused, the sharp edges returning to his gaze.
"But you're rusty."
Saito blinked, confusion darkening his features. "What?"
Mokoto slid into a perfected fighting stance. Every muscle in his body became a spring under tension.
"I'm saying your Standz ability has carried you for too long. It's dulled your technique, sanded away the discipline. And now…" Mokoto clenched his fists, lowering his center of gravity. "Now I've read you like a book. You can be faster or stronger than me—it doesn't matter. The advantage you had is gone."
He coiled low, Arms Geared back.
"From here on… I'm the one doing the attacking."
"MASSIVE DEATH—!!" he roared.
Saito braced himself, his mind reeling. He has a major attack? I didn't think he—
The thought shattered. Mokoto was already gone, the distance closed in a blinding blur, now hovering over him like a striking viper.
"He got faster…" Saito instinctively prepared to dash away, but the moment was lost.
"—RAIN!" Mokoto screamed.
His fists multiplied into an impossible torrent. The relentless blur of blows struck Saito's previous position, not his body. The ground exploded outward—not just earth, but a pulverized vortex of dust and stone. The pressure wave was catastrophic, sending massive, jagged boulders hurtling in every direction.
Some shrieked toward THE SEVEN—only to be instantly reduced to dust by the ambient pressure of the fighters' Standz fields before they could reach them.
Renzo smirked from the Seven's perch. "If this keeps up, there won't be a battlefield left."
"If it comes to that," Akari replied, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, eyes narrowed in focused intensity, "I'll personally put an end to this farce."
Far above, Belto and Sakura had to execute instant, desperate leaps to avoid the debris tearing through the air toward them.
"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT IDIOT THINK HE'S DOING!?" Belto shouted, dodging a chunk of rock the size of a carriage.
Meanwhile, Mokoto's team watched in horror as shrapnel flew straight at their vantage point. "We have to move!" Takumi yelled.
Rin stepped forward, pointing his palms at a colossal incoming boulder. "Don't worry. I got this." Activating his Standz ability, he declared: "Sand Ability: DUST CLOUD!"
The boulders instantly turned into cascading torrents of sand, splashing over the team before impact. The fighters coughed, spitting sand and dusting themselves off.
"Could've been worse. Thank you," Raito, their boss, said, brushing his clothes.
Rin smiled at the compliment. "It's nothing. It's a new trick I've been working on—turning anything that originated from the ground back to ground. Of course, it only works on matter with a Standz pressure beneath or equal to mine."
Miwafe glared at Rin, shaking sand from her black ponytail. "Next time you cover me in sand, I'll freeze you solid."
Rin swallowed hard, giving a shaky, exaggerated freeze-up, which relieved the tension in the group.
Back on the battlefield, Mokoto ceased his attack, scanning the crater for Saito.
"If you're going to strike all out…"
Saito's voice came from behind. Mokoto immediately spun around to see Saito mid-air, descending. He had leaped out of the way just as the barrage had begun.
"...Make sure you hit your target." Saito landed lightly, untouched.
Mokoto frowned, wasting no time. He flung himself at Saito like a cannon shot. "MISSILE SHOOT!"
He launched a focused kick at Saito's head. Saito reacted instantly, punching the incoming leg. Fist and leg collided with a deafening CRACK that sent a visible shockwave across the arena.
Mokoto was driven back, but he used Saito's fist as a stepping stone to launch himself back into the fray, raining fists and kicks. Saito blocked, stepped back, and finally delivered a counter-attack—which Mokoto ducked underneath before it even fully launched. He had predicted the move.
Saito stared in shock as Mokoto landed a clean, brutal punch to his face, sending him flying backward.
"You know what, Saito?" Mokoto's voice was venomous, cutting through the silence. "How does it feel to fail your people? To let them down because we no longer mattered to you? Failing your family, my father—how does it feel to know that you are the reason for the suffering of others?"
Saito scrambled up, wiping blood from his lip, confusion warring with a deep, furious frown.
Mokoto pressed the attack. "You're so caught up in your own twisted sense of justice that you've forgotten the reason you even created Seirei Exorcist. My dad risked his life to defend the honor of the Exorcist name! He was a legend in an unknown region, and that's why you let him die, isn't it? Did you ever think of him, after all he did for you? Is this how you repay him, jackass?"
Silence descended like a shroud. Everyone was paying attention now.
Mokoto launched himself forward, fist ready for a killing blow. Saito tried to block, but for a split-second, he saw a different face in Mokoto's charge—Kyoka. The memory of Kyoka's youthful, challenging grin, and a long-forgotten training match, slowed Saito's reaction. He was lost in the past.
The punch connected cleanly with his jaw, sending him spiraling through the air.
The Seven watched in confusion. "Has Saito… given up?" Hina asked.
Haruka stared intently, his expression unreadable. "It sure did look like it."
Ryūjin stood up, shaking with fury. "I refuse to let Mokoto win! I can't accept that, it—"
"Ryūjin. Sit." Akari's voice was calm but absolute. Ryūjin hesitated, then sat back down, seething. "Whatever this fight comes down to, it will be Saito's fault."
Saito lay on the pulverized earth, drowning in a flood of agonizing thoughts.
{25 years ago}
In a small, worn camping tent, deep in an unfamiliar forest, a nine-year-old Saito sat hunched in the dim light. His small frame was a roadmap of bruises and scrapes. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought.
The sound of rustling canvas signaled the arrival of nine-years-old Akari. The nine-year-old's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Saito's beaten state.
"Let me guess," Akari said, hanging his sword and removing his coat. "You and Kyoka fought again?"
Saito nodded curtly.
Akari pinched the bridge of his nose, a mixture of frustration and faint amusement on his face. "I leave for just five minutes... What happened this time?"
Saito's voice was thick with indignant rage. "He took the last chunk of meat! He ate seven pieces, and I only had six! What a greedy nutsack!"
Akari raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. "Something tells me you ate seven and he had six, and you were trying to steal his eighth piece."
Saito's face tensed, realizing he was caught. Akari's expression turned serious. "You two have been fighting over everything since we found him a few months ago. Can't you two agree on one thing for once?"
Saito looked down, avoiding Akari's gaze.
"Where is Kyoka?" Akari asked, glancing around the cramped tent.
"He went outside to get some air," Saito replied.
Akari nodded, picking up some firewood. "Well, go get him. I killed a large boar, and I'm going to cook it for dinner. But first, take this." He handed Saito a small sack of herbs. "Apply these to your injuries. They should help them heal properly. Give some to Kyoka too."
Saito grabbed the sack and headed out. After some time He eventually spotted the twelve-year-old Kyoka perched on a large boulder, staring up at the canopy of stars. Kyoka's face was also bruised, and he smiled as Saito approached.
"Back for round two already, little guy?" Kyoka asked, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Saito smirked. "I wish." He tossed the sack of herbs to Kyoka, who caught it with a practiced hand. "Akari prepared medicine for us. I've already applied mine. The rest is for you. He wants us back for dinner."
Kyoka jumped down, the grin still plastered on his face. "Damn, your punches hurt more today than usual. You've really improved."
Saito snorted. "Of course, I have. Back then, you used your Standz ability to neutralize mine, and you were a prodigy in hand-to-hand combat. I had to train my physical skills to keep up."
Kyoka chuckled. "You wish. I still haven't lost to you yet."
Saito looked away, trying to hide a small, satisfied smile. "Well, I haven't lost either, so it's even."
As they walked side by side, Saito asked, "You told Akari why you were alone in the forest the time we found you, but you never explained it to me."
Kyoka's expression turned slightly serious. "Because I didn't think you had enough brain cells to understand."
Saito's eyes narrowed. "You're asking for another beating."
Kyoka giggled, but then his expression settled into quiet solemnity. "My full name is Kyoka Katsuragi. That means I'm from the Katsuragi clan."
Saito's eyes widened in surprise. "The Katsuragi clan? I think I've heard that name before."
Kyoka's gaze locked onto Saito's as he began to explain. "The Katsuragi clan is founded on a singular goal: the eradication of all Seireis. Most people fear Seireis because their very presence causes catastrophic damage, but the Katsuragis fail to understand that they don't do this intentionally. They just want to return home or stay away from us to save our lives. The reason they're even here is because the world's Standz pressure somehow acted like a magnet, dragging them here."
Kyoka pulled out a fragile, ancient scroll—a chant—from his pocket and handed it to Saito. "There's already a way to send them back without violence—an exorcism chant that can return the Seireis to their world."
Saito unwrapped the chant and stared at the symbols.
"But the Katsuragis hated the idea," Kyoka continued, his voice heavy with resentment. "They wanted to burn the chant to the ground. They want every Seirei in this world dead, not saved. They told me Seireis are the reason my parents are dead and why over thirty percent of our clan was wiped out. But I couldn't allow them to destroy the chant. I decided to protect the Seireis and free them from this world."
Kyoka looked down. "The Katsuragis saw it as a betrayal and kicked me out. I wandered out here, on my way to the city to save as many Seireis as I could. That's when you found me."
Saito looked at Kyoka with newfound respect and concern. "I see. At first, I thought you had to be stupid and strong, wandering this forest alone. Now I know I was right in both aspects, but for a different reason. But why did the Katsuragi clan feel the effects of the Seireis the most?"
Kyoka smiled, a slight bitterness in his expression. "The Katsuragi clan is known for having people with either powerful Standz abilities, powerful Standz pressure, or both. We got the nickname 'the clan blessed with Standz.' The Seireis were pulled in by the Standz of the world, and the place they converged was the Katsuragi clan—the place with the most Standz pressure ever. Their arrival alone destroyed everything in sight. But I know they didn't mean it. They are just the embodiment of bad luck in this world."
Saito's face lit up with explosive, boyish excitement. "If that's what you want to do, then Akari and I will help you! We're both strong! We can start in the big city, gather more people who share our desire to help Seireis, and teach them how to control their Standz! We can form an organization around the world for each region, and we'll call it the 'Seirei Exorcist'!"
Kyoka stared at Saito in quiet shock, taken aback by his rapid-fire plan.
"Me, Akari, and you, plus a few others we deem worthy, would be in charge of the operation!" Saito declared.
Kyoka smiled, considering the idea. "I'm in."
Saito grinned, triumphant. But Kyoka cut him off. "But I wouldn't lead the operation with you, even if your plan works."
Saito looked confused. "Why? It's our idea."
Kyoka's expression turned serious. "It might be, but if the Katsuragi clan finds out about this operation, they'll be mad. And if they find out a Katsuragi, abandoned or not, is leading it, they won't hesitate to act out. They have the power to crush us in less than a second. I don't care how strong we get. So, I'll be part of the Seirei Exorcist, but put me in a region that's not really well-known. Keep me hidden, so they wouldn't find out I'm working with you."
Saito's smile settled into one of deep understanding. "If you say so. Deal."
Kyoka laughed. "Okay, now it's time to ask if Akari wants part in this weird plan of ours."
Unbeknownst to Saito and Kyoka, Akari was hiding behind a massive oak tree, listening to their entire conversation with a slow, quiet smile.
{Back in the present}
Saito slowly stood up from the ravaged earth, breathing heavily, his teeth clenched against the pain.
"Don't you dare speak his name," Saito hissed, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of grief and rage. "You don't know anything, so you don't get to talk. I don't know how I ever saw Kyoka in you."
From the Seven's area, Renzo smiled widely, a dangerous excitement filling his eyes. "See, I knew Kyoka wasn't going to lose! This just keeps getting fun!" Hotaru silently pushed up her glasses, a small smile playing on her lips.
Back on the battlefield, Mokoto's anger flared, charging at Saito. Saito charged back, and they both landed multiple, simultaneous, furious punches, yelling into each other's faces.
Belto, observing from above with Sakura, spoke grimly. "They're playing a game of chicken. They're attacking each other at the same time. The first one to defend loses. They might not even know they've entered this challenge, but they're doing it. The two of them are tanking each other's attacks."
He swallowed hard. "If I had fought this version of Mokoto back then, I would have been killed by mokoto the moment I trapped his soul."
Sakura watched in silence, her expression a mask of awe and tension.
In the center of the arena, Mokoto and Saito continued to exchange blows.
"What do you know!?" Mokoto shouted, his punches striking faster. "My dad served you with everything, and you didn't even consider helping him when he needed it!"
Saito increased his speed, the damage escalating. "I said don't speak of him!"
Mokoto roared, matching Saito blow-for-blow. "I can speak of my father whenever I want, damn it!"
He landed a powerful, desperate hook punch that sent Saito careening back.
Saito quickly got up, his expression utterly changed. He unleashed his full Standz pressure.
The pressure was not just intense; it was a physical force, a crushing gravity that instantly knocked the other members of the Seven from their chairs, sending them tumbling as they desperately clawed for something to grip.
"Whoa! It's been a long time since Saito let out his Standz pressure like that!" Renzo yelled, struggling but laughing hysterically.
To fully mitigate the damage and heal, Saito paused time. His Standz pressure spread, a metaphysical dominion that encompassed the entire arena, reaching far beyond—across the earth, the solar system, even the galaxy itself. {Its Limit}
When time began to flow again, Mokoto felt nothing, having no Standz pressure of his own. But he knew something was terribly wrong. He looked around. Everyone in the arena—the spectators, his teammates—wore expressions of shocked terror, sweaty and trembling under an unbearable burden.
Mokoto stared at Saito. His opponent's critical injuries were instantly healed, his strength fully recovered. Mokoto frowned.
Raito, the leader of Mokoto's team, thought: (I knew he was strong, but not this strong. If I move even a little, his pressure might kill me. So this is the true strength of the leader of the Seven.) He saw his teammates suffering the same fate, hardly able to move, breathing in shallow gasps.
The Seven members stood up, dusting themselves off. Akari, the only one who hadn't fallen, simply adjusted his sword hilt.
"Now that Saito is serious," Akari stated, his eyes burning with an intense focus, "this fight is as good as over."
Back in the battlefield, Mokoto was unaffected by the pressure, but the atmosphere screamed danger. He stared at the pristine Saito, who stood straight, no longer in a fighter's stance, just radiating overwhelming power.
"You wanted me to use my Standz in this fight," Saito said, his voice quiet, almost mournful.
In a blink, Saito appeared directly in front of Mokoto.
"Well, now I am."
Mokoto hadn't even registered the movement. The moment it clicked in, he leaped back as fast as he could. (When did he move?) he thought, his blood running cold.
His back bumped into a figure. He spun around—it was Saito. The same Saito he had just jumped to avoid. Mokoto swung his arm, but hit nothing. No one was there.
Mokoto searched frantically, only to find Saito standing right in front of him again. Mokoto's heart hammered against his ribs.
Saito stared down at him.
"This is where our fight ends."