The days passed peacefully yet fulfillingly.
Everyone thought this otherworldly adventure would conclude with a fairy-tale ending of "the prince and princesses lived happily ever after."
However, they had forgotten something.
In a world themed around "fighting," what was never in short supply were battle maniacs pursuing the title of "strongest."
On this particular day, Cloud was standing bare-chested beneath a waterfall in Divine Village, feeling the impact of the cascading water, engaged in the most fundamental physical training.
He used no energy to protect himself, relying purely on his flesh to resist the enormous force crashing down from above.
This was a habit he'd developed back in the KOF world. The more powerful one's abilities, the more one needed an equally powerful "vessel" to contain them. Physical conditioning was a foundation that could never be neglected.
Just as he closed his eyes in meditation, enjoying that painful yet exhilarating sensation—
A wave of ki, so powerful it was suffocating, descended without warning.
This ki was unlike Amakusa's evil or Mizuki's coldness.
It was pure, domineering, condensed—filled with the will to destroy everything.
It wasn't a demon. It wasn't a god. It was a pure "oni"—one who had refined "slaughter" and "power" itself to their absolute limits!
The entirety of Divine Village was shrouded in this "oni ki." The waterfall seemed to freeze in its tracks. Animals that had been frolicking fell silent, trembling in fear.
"This ki...!"
Haohmaru, who had been practicing swordsmanship in the village, jerked his head up, his expression more grave than ever before.
Ukyo, reading a book beneath a tree, gripped his scroll so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Nakoruru and Rimururu, who had been distributing medicinal herbs to villagers, felt their hearts clench and turned in unison toward the waterfall.
They knew. An enemy more terrifying than any they had faced had arrived!
Beneath the waterfall, Cloud slowly opened his eyes. He showed no surprise whatsoever—if anything, a knowing smile played at his lips.
"What had to come has finally arrived."
He could sense it. The target of this "oni ki" was none other than himself.
It seemed that during his battle with Mizuki, the heaven-shaking release of "Orochi power" at the end had acted like a lighthouse in the darkness, drawing this slumbering "oni" from his endless cycle of slaughter.
He walked slowly out of the water, droplets sliding down muscle definition that could rival a Greek sculpture. He didn't bother getting dressed—simply stood there quietly, waiting for his "guest" to arrive.
A tall, imposing figure emerged slowly from the forest's shadows.
He wore a set of heavy armor, with a massive horse-slaying blade—taller than a man—strapped to his back. His face was hidden behind a fearsome oni mask, revealing only a pair of red eyes burning with mad battle lust.
Each step he took seemed to land directly on everyone's heart—heavy and oppressive.
He was the nightmare that haunted every warrior of this era.
He was the legendary swordsman who had slain ten thousand men before finally transforming into an "oni."
—Kibagami Zankuro!
"You... are the one who possesses the power of a god?"
Zankuro's voice was hoarse and deep, as if rising from the depths of hell. Every word carried the thick stench of blood.
His gaze locked onto Cloud like a vice.
That gaze didn't see a person. It saw the most perfect "work of art"—an ultimate existence worth risking his life to cut down.
"If you mean the guy who accidentally punched a hole in the sky a few days ago, that would be me." Facing this legendary "oni," Cloud showed no tension whatsoever—he even had the mood to crack jokes.
"Very good." Zankuro nodded, seemingly satisfied with Cloud's answer.
He slowly drew the massive horse-slayer from his back.
WHOOOM—
The instant the blade cleared its sheath, heaven and earth changed color! A visible wave of blood-red murderous aura shot toward the sky!
"I, Kibagami Zankuro, hereby challenge you... to a duel to the death!"
He didn't ask Cloud's name. He said nothing superfluous.
For an "oni," combat was the only form of communication.
By now, Haohmaru, Ukyo, and the others had rushed to the waterfall's edge.
When they saw Zankuro, every face showed an expression of facing a mortal enemy.
"Zankuro... he actually... appeared!" Haohmaru gripped his sword so tightly that veins bulged on his hands.
"The oni ki on him... it's even more terrifying than the legends!" Ukyo's voice carried a tremor.
"Cloud! Fall back! He's not an enemy we can handle!" Nakoruru shouted urgently.
But Cloud merely waved them off.
"Stay back, all of you." His voice was calm yet carried an authority that brooked no argument.
"This is... a duel between him and me, as martial artists. Please don't interfere."
With that, he turned to face the demon-like Zankuro, a brilliant smile spreading across his face.
"A duel to the death? I accept."
He didn't transform into Orochi. He didn't use the Kusanagi flames. He didn't summon the Yagami fire.
He didn't even have a weapon.
He simply walked toward that legendary "oni," bare-fisted.
"You're... looking down on me?" Zankuro's voice grew even colder as he observed Cloud's empty hands.
"No, quite the opposite." Cloud shook his head. "It's precisely because I respect you—respect your sword that has reached the pinnacle—that I will respond with my purest martial arts."
"This is a martial artist's highest form of respect for another martial artist."
Zankuro fell silent.
In Cloud's eyes, he saw something similar to yet fundamentally different from his own nature.
It was the ultimate pursuit of and confidence in the Way of Martial Arts!
"Very well!" Zankuro bellowed, saying nothing more.
He gripped his blade with both hands and stamped forward with tremendous force!
"Mugen-ryū Shippuzan!"
His figure instantly blurred into a fading afterimage. The massive blade in his hands descended with an aura that could rend all creation!
This strike had no flashy techniques—only the purest speed and power!
Facing this heaven-splitting strike, Cloud simply took a deep breath. His feet rooted into the earth as if planted there, and he assumed the most standard, most stable horse stance.
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