Fire.
Blood.
Dead bodies on the ground.
A place that once held hope was now covered in destruction.
After the brave heroes who would fight for tomorrow had departed, the Crimson Temple remained in a strange calm.
Until a portal opened—and from it emerged a man dressed like a Black Plague doctor.
The Sifs present exchanged confused glances.
But excitement gave way to instant death.
Heads rolled.
The bloody battle began.
Isha—the man with the black scythe—judged them all with simple, lethal movements.
Parts of the temple were set ablaze, monuments toppled, pillars cracked by the impact of his blows.
— You love judging yourselves as masters of purity… — he snarled. — Let's see how you handle corruption.
He raised his hand.
A red aura spread with a snap, like a living curse.
Dead and wounded bodies began to contort. Their eyes darkened.
Julian, the strongest Sif in the temple, and his brother Kion, were ready to fight.
Other Sifs joined them. There was no other choice.
Julian carried two giant swords at his waist. They complemented each other like Yin and Yang.
One sword nullified any power Isha tried to invoke. With a single cut, it could even cause amnesia and confuse the enemy.
The other manipulated gravity, absorbed Julian's kinetic energy, and returned it all in a single, devastating blow.
— Impressive… — Isha snarled. — But is that all?
Julian smiled.
His body, strong and muscular, moved with the lightness of a trained warrior.
He advanced, nullifying each of Isha's strikes.
With a precise movement, Julian delivered a reverse arc slash. The force was so brutal it tore part of Isha's clothing, even as he tried to dodge at the last moment.
But Julian didn't stop.
The accumulated energy exploded in a violent blow that crushed Isha and hurled him several meters back.
The surrounding scene was in ruins.
Only Julian, Kion, and Isha remained.
Julian returned to the offensive.
Isha tried to guide him with combinations of strikes until he opened a portal and pierced Julian's heart with his scythe.
— I'll make good use of your swords… I promise. For science — he murmured.
But Julian's body dissolved into mist.
The mist paralyzed Isha for an instant—long enough for Julian to emerge from his invisibility field and deliver a real cut.
A tentacle emerged from a portal to protect Isha, but it was severed.
The blade tore through his chest.
A bloody strike that broke his concentration.
The portals closed.
Julian absorbed energy with his sword and launched a brutal attack, smashing Isha's body with violence.
Isha fell. Motionless.
Kion approached.
The two surveyed the chaos.
But then…
The bodies of their comrades rose.
Quickly. Silently.
They attacked.
Both were caught by surprise and thrown far away.
— What…? — Kion said, in shock. — Our comrades…? How is this possible?
— They're almost completely possessed…
— Profane Stitching — Isha murmured, as he stood up.
His body, once broken, now stitched itself together with black, slimy threads.
— My technique is called Profane Stitching.
Anything I cut and mark with my negative energy, that sinks into terror… I can control.
He gave a distorted smile:
— Feel fear. Feel the urge to give up. When I cut you… you can join them.
— What a dirty technique… — Julian snarled. — But we won't yield.
— People are fighting for their lives outside this temple. We have no right to do less. We'll fight to the end… and save our comrades!
Isha laughed loudly.
— I love it when they try to resist…
The puppets launched themselves at Julian and Kion.
Kion then used his mist to disrupt the puppets' senses.
It was a simple technique, ineffective against experienced warriors—but the possessed comrades were mere puppets.
The mist worked. They collapsed and fell asleep.
In the center of the flaming courtyard, Julian and Isha clashed.
The black scythe danced in the fire.
Julian, with swords in hand, found openings.
A precise slash tore through Isha—but Julian was also wounded in the shoulder.
— That's enough — Julian murmured.
The energy explosion hurled Isha into the debris.
But then…
Isha rose.
— Library of Souls. Curtain of Suppression.
It was his rarest ability.
He could scour an arsenal of techniques reaped throughout his life.
However, he could only use it once per day.
That's how he had defeated Akira the first time.
With this ability, he suppressed Julian and Kion's powers to the maximum.
— I'll drown you in terror, Mr. Righteous…
Julian advanced angrily, even without his powers.
Only with his swords.
Isha extended his arm.
Tentacles restrained Julian, immobilizing him.
Then Isha walked toward Kion—a mere support, yes…
But a key piece to destroy Julian's spirit.
— I'll kill him in front of you.
You'll be powerless. You'll see your weakness. You'll surrender.
Kion ran, desperate.
No illusions. No mist. Just survival.
Tentacles emerged from portals, trying to capture him.
But Kion dodged.
He picked up a fallen sword—marked with a rune that absorbed attacks.
He needed energy.
He waited.
Isha advanced with his scythe.
Kion parried the blow and began gathering energy.
He created an intentional opening.
Prepared for a counterattack…
But a tentacle emerged from the ground and pierced his forearm.
He screamed.
Dropped the sword.
Immobile.
Death before him.
— Let's begin the torture — Isha said.
But before the blow could land, rolling bombs appeared on the ground.
Isha looked.
Explosions.
When the smoke cleared, Kion was gone.
— Stay here — a voice said.
The man placed Kion beside Julian, who had also been freed thanks to Sayuri.
Isha smiled.
— So you came…
Akira responded firmly:
— To your misfortune.
The battle was about to begin.
To be continued…