For a brief moment, the two men stood motionless amid the scarlet flames.
Then Ryuen's smile widened.
And the darkness moved.
Dozens of black tentacles erupted from the ground.
They tore through the shattered stones, twisting around the remnants of broken pillars before surging toward Draves from every direction. Their surfaces were covered in countless shifting eyes, each one opening and closing as though the darkness itself possessed a will of its own.
Draves immediately moved.
His black blade swept sideways, cutting through the first tentacle before it could reach his shoulder. The severed mass dissolved into purple smoke, but three more emerged from its remains.
He ducked beneath one, stepped over another, and rotated his body just as a third swept toward his head.
His sword flashed.
The tentacle split apart.
Yet the remaining appendages continued advancing.
Too many.
Draves retreated two steps, his boots grinding against the broken ground. His left eye flickered, and several mirrors materialized around him, each displaying a different trajectory of the incoming attacks.
He selected one.
His body twisted to the left.
A tentacle tore through the space where his chest had been a fraction of a second earlier.
Another possibility.
He lowered his head.
A black appendage passed above him, scattering strands of darkness across his white hair.
Another.
He turned his wrist, deflecting a claw-like projection with the flat of his sword.
For several seconds, Draves moved through the battlefield like a man dancing between invisible blades.
But Ryuen wasn't even moving.
He stood in the distance, his hands resting casually at his sides, watching the professor evade the increasingly complicated assault.
"You're quite good at that," Ryuen remarked.
Draves ignored him.
He stepped onto a fallen pillar, used it to change direction, and launched himself toward Ryuen. His black blade trailed behind him, absorbing the surrounding darkness until its surface became almost impossible to distinguish from the shadows beneath his feet.
The tentacles pursued him.
Draves didn't look back.
His left eye shone.
Cut.
The space before him seemed to narrow.
His sword descended toward Ryuen's shoulder.
And Ryuen raised one finger.
A tentacle erupted between them.
Draves's blade struck it, cutting through the dark exterior—
But the appendage twisted.
Instead of collapsing, its severed end curved around the sword and coiled tightly around Draves's wrist.
His eyes widened.
A second tentacle wrapped around his ankle.
A third shot toward his back.
Draves immediately released a burst of mana, forcing the first two appendages to loosen. He twisted free and landed several paces away, but the third tentacle still caught his shoulder.
The impact hurled him across the ruined courtyard.
He struck the remains of a stone wall, which collapsed beneath him in a cloud of dust.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then a hand emerged from the rubble.
Draves pushed himself upright.
His uniform was torn at the shoulder, and a thin line of blood ran from his forehead. He examined the wound briefly before raising his eyes toward Ryuen.
The white-haired man tilted his head.
"Still standing? Wonderful."
He spread his arms.
"But tell me something, Professor. Have you figured it out yet?"
Draves tightened his grip on his sword.
"Figured out what?"
Ryuen chuckled.
"What kind of monster you're fighting."
The tentacles withdrew into the ground.
For an instant, Draves thought the attack had ended.
Then the darkness behind Ryuen expanded.
It spread across the ruined courtyard like an enormous shadow cast by something that had no place in the world. Its edges crawled over the broken stones, swallowing the scarlet light wherever they passed.
Ryuen stepped forward.
"Your eyes. Those mirrors. The way you move before an attack even begins."
He glanced at Draves's left eye.
"Matrix Third."
Draves's expression changed slightly.
Ryuen noticed.
"Oh? Did I strike a nerve?"
"You're remarkably talkative for someone trying to kill me."
"Why wouldn't I be? It's been a while since I've encountered someone with such an interesting ability."
Ryuen raised his right hand and examined his claws.
"Matrix Third allows you to create a possibility in which another person's Blessed Authority belongs to you."
Draves said nothing.
Ryuen continued.
"You don't simply imitate their movements. You establish a possibility in which their authority is yours, then borrow that possibility to reproduce the ability."
His smile sharpened.
"An elegant concept. Instead of stealing the power itself, you copy the possibility of possessing it."
He slowly curled his fingers.
"But there's a problem, isn't there?"
The darkness behind him rippled.
"Your authority is only at Stratum Six. You can create the possibility, but your ability to sustain and develop it is limited. The more complicated the authority, the more difficult it becomes to reproduce it properly."
Ryuen looked directly into Draves's eyes.
"And if the original owner stands before you, your imitation becomes even less reliable."
Draves's expression remained composed, but his thoughts accelerated.
He understood it from a single exchange?
No.
That wasn't quite right.
Ryuen hadn't merely understood the general principle.
He had identified the limitations.
The instability of copied authorities. The restrictions imposed by Draves's own Stratum. The difference between possessing the possibility of an ability and possessing the authority itself.
All of it.
Ryuen laughed softly.
"Don't look so surprised. Your authority is powerful, but you haven't devoted your entire existence to mastering it."
He gestured toward Draves's sword.
"You've spent far more time developing that thing."
Draves lowered his gaze to the black blade.
"The Unwritten Sword," Ryuen continued. "A martial sword style that refuses to follow a fixed sequence. No predetermined forms, no absolute rules for how a strike must unfold. Instead, it favors the unexpected, allowing its wielder to exploit openings that should never have existed."
He tilted his head.
"Most swordsmen train until their movements become predictable in their perfection. Yours does the opposite. You leave room for mistakes, accidents, and improbable outcomes."
Ryuen's smile returned.
"You leave room for luck."
Draves slowly raised his sword.
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"Not at all."
Ryuen's marble eye gleamed.
"It's a compliment."
The black tail behind him rose into the air.
"Your Blessed Authority might be underdeveloped, but you've enriched your Martial Stratum instead. You've reached Stratum Five through the Unwritten Sword, building your strength around a discipline that turns uncertainty into opportunity."
He paused.
"An unusual choice for someone possessing an authority capable of copying other people's powers."
Draves's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Perhaps I prefer learning how to use my own strength."
"Perhaps."
Ryuen's expression became more serious.
"But there's a difference between having an opportunity and having the strength to seize it."
The darkness surged.
"And that's where we differ."
A violent pressure descended upon the courtyard.
Draves felt it immediately.
Ryuen's presence had changed. The casual atmosphere surrounding him disappeared, replaced by an oppressive force that made the surrounding air feel unbearably heavy.
The man's dark-purple aura thickened around his body.
His white hair lifted in the wind.
"I stand at the peak of Stratum Four in the Blessed path," Ryuen said. "I've brought my authority to a point where the boundaries between my body, my power, and the darkness surrounding me have become increasingly difficult to distinguish."
He extended his claws.
"And you, Draves, have divided your development between two paths. Your Matrix Third remains limited, while your Martial Stratum has advanced through the Unwritten Sword."
His gaze sharpened.
"You've made yourself dangerous in several different ways."
The darkness behind him unfolded.
"But I've made myself dangerous in all of them."
The ground exploded.
Ryuen vanished.
Draves's left eye flashed.
He turned his sword upward.
CLANG!
The impact shook his entire arm.
Ryuen's claws struck the black blade, and the force drove Draves backward across the courtyard. His boots carved two long grooves through the broken stones before he managed to stop.
He barely had time to breathe.
Ryuen attacked again.
A horizontal strike.
Draves leaned backward.
A second strike aimed at his ribs.
He twisted aside.
A third came from above.
Draves raised his blade, catching Ryuen's claws against its flat surface.
The pressure nearly forced him to his knees.
Ryuen smiled.
"You're fast."
Draves pushed against him.
"And you're annoying."
He abruptly withdrew his sword.
Ryuen's claws passed through empty air.
For an instant, the white-haired man was exposed.
Draves stepped forward.
The Unwritten Sword had no fixed sequence.
No rule required him to follow one attack with another.
He could abandon a perfectly good opening simply because a worse one might become better.
His blade moved toward Ryuen's waist, then changed direction halfway through the swing.
A shallow cut appeared across Ryuen's sleeve.
The white-haired man's eyebrows rose.
Draves's smile widened.
"Found you."
Ryuen glanced at the damaged fabric.
Then he laughed.
"Excellent!"
His tail lashed sideways.
Draves crossed his sword before him.
The impact sent him tumbling across the ground, but he used the momentum to roll beneath an approaching tentacle. He rose in one fluid motion and slashed upward, cutting through the appendage before it could close around his leg.
For the first time, Ryuen began moving continuously.
Dark tentacles erupted from his back, spreading like a forest of twisted branches. Some struck directly at Draves, while others plunged into the ground and emerged from unexpected angles.
Draves responded with a series of irregular movements.
He advanced when retreat seemed safer.
He retreated when an opening appeared.
He occasionally abandoned a clear attack to strike at an empty patch of air, only for a tentacle to emerge from that very spot and lose its end to his blade.
Every movement seemed wrong.
Every decision appeared reckless.
Yet somehow, he survived.
The Unwritten Sword turned the battlefield into a collection of improbable opportunities.
A falling stone became a stepping platform.
A missed strike became a counterattack.
A broken pillar concealed the angle of his next swing.
Draves didn't need every possibility to favor him.
He only needed one.
And for several precious moments, luck answered.
His sword grazed Ryuen's arm.
Then his shoulder.
A third strike cut through the purple aura around Ryuen's wrist, forcing the white-haired man to retreat half a step.
Draves followed immediately.
His left eye flickered.
A mirror appeared.
He chose a possibility.
His right eye flashed.
Another mirror shattered.
He chose again.
For a fraction of a second, his movements aligned with the future he had selected.
His blade swept toward Ryuen's neck.
But Ryuen smiled.
"That's enough."
The darkness swallowed the space between them.
Draves's sword passed through a fading silhouette.
His target had vanished.
A cold sensation spread across his back.
He turned.
Too late.
A tentacle struck him between the shoulders.
The world lurched.
Before he could recover, two more wrapped around his arms, wrenching them apart. Another coiled around his waist and lifted him from the ground.
Draves gritted his teeth.
Mana surged through his body.
He twisted his right wrist, trying to bring his sword around, but the tentacles tightened.
Ryuen appeared before him.
"You know what your greatest weakness is?"
Draves glared at him.
"Your personality?"
Ryuen laughed.
"No. It's that you still believe you can find a favorable possibility for every situation."
He raised one claw.
"Your eyes show you possibilities. Your authority allows you to select and reproduce certain abilities. Your sword lets you exploit the unexpected."
His claw approached Draves's face.
"But what happens when every possibility you can reach ends in the same place?"
Draves's left eye flashed.
Mirrors erupted around him.
One showed him breaking free.
Another showed his sword severing the tentacles.
A third showed Ryuen retreating.
For one brief instant, Draves found a possibility in which he could escape.
He seized it.
His left eye blazed.
The tentacles around his arms loosened.
His body twisted.
His sword began to move.
And Ryuen's expression changed.
"Oh?"
The professor's blade flashed toward his chest.
Ryuen barely turned aside.
The black sword carved through the darkness coating his torso, leaving a narrow opening in the purple aura.
Draves landed on his feet.
His breathing had grown ragged, but his eyes remained focused.
He had done it.
He had found a way through.
Ryuen looked down at the fading mark on his robes.
Then he raised his head.
"That was wonderful."
His voice had lost its playful edge.
"Truly."
The darkness around him became silent.
Every tentacle stopped moving.
Even the flames seemed to bend away from his body.
"But now I understand."
Ryuen's marble eye turned toward Draves's left eye.
"You don't need a perfect future. You only need one possibility that gives you an opening."
He slowly extended his arms.
"Then I'll simply make sure you never get one."
The entire courtyard darkened.
Draves's eyes widened.
The shadows beneath the broken pillars stretched toward Ryuen. The darkness coating the ground rose into the air, joining the tentacles already emerging from his back.
Dozens became hundreds.
They spread in every direction, weaving together until they formed an enormous structure of twisting black limbs.
Some were thin as threads.
Others were thicker than the ruined pillars surrounding them.
Their movements overlapped, creating a constantly shifting web of attacks.
There was no obvious opening.
No single point Draves could exploit.
Ryuen stood at its center.
"Come on, Professor."
He smiled.
"Show me your luck."
The tentacles attacked.
Draves moved.
His sword flashed through the first wave, cutting apart the incoming appendages. He ducked beneath a strike, leapt over another, and twisted through a gap that closed immediately behind him.
His left eye flickered.
Mirrors appeared.
He selected a future.
A tentacle missed his head.
Another grazed his shoulder.
He chose again.
His sword cut through a third.
For a few seconds, he managed to stay ahead of the assault.
Then the mirrors began to break.
One by one, the possibilities shattered before his eyes.
The futures in which he escaped disappeared.
The futures in which he counterattacked collapsed.
Even the reflections showing him surviving long enough to retreat dissolved into fragments.
Draves's right eye burned.
He forced another possibility into existence.
The mirror appeared.
It trembled.
And broke.
A tentacle struck his side.
He stumbled.
Another caught his leg.
He cut through it, but a third slammed into his back, forcing him to one knee.
Ryuen watched from the center of the darkness.
"Your authority can't sustain what your understanding cannot support," he said. "You can create the possibility of possessing another person's power, but you haven't reached the level where you can make every possibility obey you."
Draves struggled to stand.
"And your sword?"
Ryuen's smile sharpened.
"Your sword can cut through darkness. That's impressive."
The tentacles drew back.
"But it still needs to reach its target."
They attacked simultaneously.
Draves swung.
His blade cut through the first tentacle, then the second, then a third that emerged from beneath his feet.
He twisted sideways.
A fourth passed through the space where his head had been.
He raised his sword against a fifth.
The impact drove him backward.
His left eye flashed, and a mirror appeared directly before him.
For one instant, he saw an opening.
He lunged.
His sword pierced the darkness and emerged on the other side.
Ryuen was there.
Draves's eyes widened.
The white-haired man had folded the distance again.
His claws struck the black blade from the side.
A sharp crack rang through the courtyard.
Draves felt the impact travel through his arms.
A fracture appeared along the edge of his sword.
He immediately pulled back.
Ryuen followed.
Another strike.
CRACK.
The fracture spread.
Draves twisted his wrist, redirecting the blow, and attempted a counterattack aimed at Ryuen's ribs.
The white-haired man leaned away.
His tail swept around Draves's legs.
The professor lost his balance.
Ryuen's claws descended.
Draves raised his sword with both hands.
For a heartbeat, their weapons locked.
Ryuen looked directly into his eyes.
"You really are an interesting man."
His claws pressed harder.
"But interesting isn't the same as victorious."
The pressure increased.
Draves's sword began to tremble.
A second fracture appeared.
Then a third.
His left eye flickered desperately.
Mirrors appeared around them, reflecting countless versions of the same moment.
In one, the sword survived.
In another, Ryuen's claws missed.
In a third, Draves found an opening and turned the battle around.
He reached for the possibility.
The mirror shattered.
Draves's expression changed.
Ryuen noticed.
"Found nothing?"
The professor clenched his teeth.
"Shut up."
He pushed with everything he had.
Mana flooded the black blade.
For one final instant, the sword's surface became a perfect darkness, absorbing the light and shadows around it.
The fractures stopped spreading.
Draves stepped forward.
His blade rose.
The Unwritten Sword abandoned every expected movement.
He thrust when a slash would have been natural. He turned his wrist when a straight strike would have been stronger. He allowed his own balance to falter, using the apparent mistake to change the angle of his attack.
Ryuen's eyes widened slightly.
The sword slipped past his guard.
A thin cut appeared across his chest.
Silence followed.
Draves stood before him, breathing heavily.
Ryuen looked down.
Then he laughed.
"Magnificent."
He raised his head.
"But—"
His claws closed around the black blade.
"—that's enough."
CRACK!
The sound was small.
Almost insignificant.
For a moment, Draves didn't understand what had happened.
He stared at the sword in Ryuen's grasp.
A fracture ran from the blade's edge to its center.
Then the black steel broke.
The upper portion of the sword fell away, tumbling through the air before striking the ground.
The sound echoed across the ruined courtyard.
Draves remained motionless.
The broken hilt was still in his hand.
Ryuen released the remaining fragment.
"Such a shame."
His expression was almost sympathetic.
"That sword carried you a long way."
Draves looked at the broken weapon.
For years, he had trusted the Unwritten Sword to find the openings that others overlooked. It had carried him through battles where superior strength should have crushed him, allowing him to survive through instinct, adaptability, and improbable chances.
But now—
There was no blade.
No opening.
No favorable possibility.
Only Ryuen.
The professor slowly raised his head.
His left eye flickered one final time.
A mirror appeared.
It reflected his own face.
Then it shattered.
Ryuen stepped forward.
The darkness surrounding him withdrew, gathering around his right hand.
"Any last words, Professor?"
Draves stared at him.
For a moment, his expression was unreadable.
Then he smiled.
"Fuck you."
Ryuen blinked.
And burst into laughter.
"Ha! Hahaha!"
He shook his head, genuinely amused.
"That's what you choose to say?"
Draves said nothing.
Ryuen's smile gradually faded.
"Well, I suppose everyone deserves a final word."
He extended his hand.
And moved.
But before his claws could reach Draves—
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
A burst of freezing air swept across the courtyard.
Frost spread over the broken ground, racing between the stones and climbing the ruined pillars. The scarlet flames nearest to it dimmed, their edges turning pale beneath the sudden cold.
Ryuen turned his head.
A girl stood at the edge of the battlefield.
Riya.
Her breathing was uneven, and her hands trembled as mana gathered around her fingers. Frost coated her arms, spreading into the air like delicate branches of ice.
She had followed the disturbance.
And now she stood before a monster she could barely comprehend.
Her eyes moved from Ryuen to Draves.
"Professor…"
Draves's expression changed.
"Riya?"
For the first time during the battle, genuine alarm entered his voice.
"What are you doing here? Get out!"
Riya ignored him.
Her gaze remained fixed on Ryuen.
"You've hurt enough people."
The frost around her hands intensified.
"So I'm going to stop you."
Ryuen stared at her.
Then he looked at Draves.
Then back at Riya.
A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
"Oh, wonderful."
He rubbed his forehead with one claw.
"Another challenger."
Riya moved first.
Ice erupted beneath Ryuen's feet, forming jagged pillars that rose toward his legs. A wave of frost followed, racing across the ground and attempting to encase him within a frozen shell.
For a moment, the attack seemed to succeed.
Ice surrounded Ryuen from every direction.
Riya clenched her fists.
The temperature plummeted.
Then a faint purple glow appeared within the frozen structure.
Ryuen stepped forward.
The ice shattered.
Not melted.
Not broken by brute force.
The darkness surrounding his body simply swallowed the space occupied by the frost, and the entire structure collapsed into fragments.
Riya froze.
Ryuen appeared before her.
"You're brave."
He raised one hand.
"Unfortunately, bravery doesn't make you strong."
Riya tried to summon another wave of frost.
She was too slow.
Ryuen struck her with a controlled burst of darkness.
The force lifted her from the ground and sent her tumbling across the broken stones.
"RIYA!"
Draves attempted to move.
A tentacle caught him around the waist.
He struggled against it, but his exhausted body could no longer generate enough mana to break free.
Riya lay motionless amid the scattered debris.
The frost surrounding her hands faded.
Ryuen glanced at her.
"Alive. Just unconscious."
He looked back at Draves.
"Consider that a courtesy."
Draves's expression twisted with fury.
"You bastard!"
He struggled harder.
The tentacle tightened.
Ryuen approached him slowly, his footsteps echoing between the ruined pillars.
"Now, where were we?"
He stopped before Draves.
The professor raised his head.
His left eye still flickered, but the light had grown faint. The mirrors no longer appeared around him. Whatever possibilities remained within his authority were slipping beyond his reach.
Ryuen crouched slightly, bringing his face closer.
"Any last words?"
Draves stared at him.
Then, despite everything, he gave a tired laugh.
"Already used them."
Ryuen smiled.
"Right. You did."
The darkness gathered around his hand.
Draves's gaze shifted briefly toward Riya.
She was still breathing.
That was something.
At least one person had survived this encounter.
He looked toward the university gates, beyond the scarlet flames and broken walls.
For a fleeting instant, he thought of his students.
Of the lectures he had yet to give.
Of the arguments he would never finish.
Of the questions that would remain unanswered.
His expression softened.
Then he looked back at Ryuen.
"Don't touch my students."
Ryuen's smile disappeared.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the white-haired man sighed.
"Too late for that, Professor."
He thrust his hand forward.
The darkness surged.
Draves's body stiffened as Ryuen's attack struck his chest, overwhelming the last of his defenses. The professor's remaining mana flickered and faded, and his fingers slowly loosened around the broken hilt of his sword.
It slipped from his grasp.
The hilt struck the ground.
Draves looked down at it.
Then his gaze drifted upward, toward the scarlet sky.
His left eye gave one final flicker.
A tiny mirror appeared before him.
Within it, he saw a distant figure running through the ruins.
Black hair.
A familiar silhouette.
For an instant, Draves almost smiled.
So you made it…
The mirror shattered.
His gaze became still.
And Draves died.
For several seconds, Ryuen remained where he was.
Then he withdrew his hand.
The professor's body fell motionless.
The surrounding darkness receded, leaving only the broken sword and the fading traces of mana scattered across the ruined ground.
Ryuen looked down at Draves.
"Hm."
He straightened his cloak.
"That was disappointing."
Yet he didn't sound particularly pleased.
He turned toward the distant university buildings, where the seven lights had begun to fade.
Then—
A sudden movement caught his attention.
Someone was approaching through the ruined entrance.
A figure emerged from behind the drifting smoke, moving between the fallen stones and the scattered flames. His black hair was disheveled, and his clothes were marked with dust from the collapsing structures.
He had been running.
Running toward the battle.
Running toward the place where the pressure of two powerful authorities had shaken the entire university.
And now he stood at the edge of the courtyard.
Kira.
His gaze swept across the destruction.
The shattered pillars.
The ruined ground.
The scarlet flames.
Then he saw Riya lying unconscious among the debris.
His eyes widened.
"Riya…?"
He took a step forward.
Then another.
His gaze moved toward the center of the courtyard.
Toward the white-haired man standing beneath the scarlet sky.
Toward the broken black sword lying on the ground.
And finally—
Toward the person lying motionless beside it.
Draves.
For a moment, Kira didn't understand what he was seeing.
His mind refused to connect the pieces.
Draves couldn't be there.
Not like that.
Not motionless.
Not with his sword broken beside him.
"Professor…?"
His voice emerged quietly.
Almost uncertainly.
He took another step.
Then stopped.
Something inside him seemed to fall silent.
The sounds of the battlefield faded into the distance. The crackling flames, the shifting debris, even the faint wind passing through the ruined courtyard seemed to disappear.
All Kira could see was Draves.
The man who had taught at Torminas.
The man who had stood before countless dangers without retreating.
The man who had just been alive.
Kira's fingers began to tremble.
His expression changed.
The confusion vanished first.
Then came disbelief.
Then something colder.
His eyes slowly lifted toward Ryuen.
The white-haired man glanced back at him, his expression returning to its familiar, careless smile.
"Oh?"
Ryuen tilted his head.
"Another one?"
Kira didn't answer.
His gaze remained fixed on Draves.
The professor's broken sword lay beside him, its black surface reflecting the scarlet flames.
Kira stared at it.
He remembered Draves holding that sword.
He remembered the professor's voice.
His instructions.
His warnings.
The countless times Draves had stood between his students and danger.
And now—
Nothing.
Kira's breathing grew shallow.
His hands clenched.
The air around him began to change.
Not with a sudden explosion of power.
Not with a roar.
But with a quiet, unsettling stillness.
The scarlet flames nearest to him flickered.
A faint distortion spread across the ground beneath his feet.
Ryuen's smile remained.
Yet his marble eye shifted toward Kira.
For the first time since the battle began, the white-haired man studied his new arrival without speaking.
Kira took one final step forward.
His eyes never left Draves.
Then, very slowly, he raised his head.
And looked at the man who had killed him.
"…You."
His voice was barely audible.
But beneath that single word, something had begun to awaken.
Something that had been silent for far too long.
And Ryuen—
Ryuen smiled.
"Ah."
His dark tail curled behind him.
"Now this might finally become interesting."
✧✧✧
Kira stood motionless.
His eyes remained fixed on Draves's lifeless body, while his mind struggled to comprehend what lay before him. Countless emotions surged through his head—disbelief, grief, anger, and an unbearable sense of helplessness.
His breathing became uneven.
His fingers trembled.
No… This can't be happening.
The world around him began to distort. The scarlet flames blurred into indistinguishable streaks of light, and the sounds of the battlefield seemed to fade into the distance.
His knees weakened.
He was on the verge of collapsing.
Ryuen tilted his head, watching the young man with mild curiosity.
"Hey, you. Why did you come here?"
Without waiting for an answer, he raised his hand.
Several dark tentacles erupted from the ground, shooting toward Kira with enough force to tear through the surrounding ruins.
But before they could reach him—
SHING!
A thin thread appeared in the air.
The tentacles were severed simultaneously, their dark bodies dissolving into purple particles.
Ryuen's smile disappeared.
Another thread emerged.
This one moved toward Kira, slipping through the air before connecting to his chest, directly over his heart.
Kira's vision wavered.
A strange dizziness washed over him, and the overwhelming emotions flooding his mind began to recede. His breathing gradually steadied, though his consciousness remained dangerously fragile.
Around him, more threads appeared.
They twisted through the air, weaving around his arms, legs, and torso. Their pale surfaces shimmered faintly beneath the scarlet sky.
Ryuen watched as the threads gathered around his own body.
One wrapped around his wrist.
Another crossed his chest.
Within moments, countless threads had completely surrounded him, binding him like a mummy.
He looked down at himself.
Then he laughed softly.
"Well, this is unexpected."
The threads tightened.
A faint voice emerged from somewhere beyond the ruined courtyard.
"Doesn't matter who you are."
Ryuen raised his head.
For the first time, his expression carried genuine interest.
The threads constricted around his body, and a thin crack appeared across his forehead.
"Well," he murmured, "it doesn't matter much to me. But for her…"
His smile returned.
"I suppose this is where I leave."
He glanced toward Kira.
"Besides, I can always come back."
CRACK!
Ryuen's head shattered into a burst of darkness.
His remaining body dissolved moments later, leaving behind only a fading purple aura.
The threads slowly retreated.
A figure emerged from the drifting particles and hurried toward Kira.
"I was late…"
Her voice carried a hint of regret.
Kira tried to raise his head.
His vision remained blurry, and his hands trembled at his sides. Thin cracks had begun spreading across his skin, glowing faintly beneath the surface.
He couldn't understand what was happening.
He could barely remain conscious.
Yet, through his fading vision, he saw someone standing before him.
A little girl.
She possessed an adorable face framed by two unusual, curved, bony tails extending from her hair. Her eyes were a striking shade of purple, and she wore a beautiful purple dress beneath a flowing silhouette that seemed to blend with the surrounding shadows.
She looked down at Kira.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she quietly knelt beside him.
"You've suffered enough for today."
Kira tried to ask who she was.
His lips moved, but no words emerged.
The girl's purple eyes softened.
"Sleep, Kira."
His vision darkened.
The last thing he saw was her face, illuminated by the fading scarlet flames.
Then his consciousness slipped away.
And Kira collapsed into darkness.