Yamero teleported with a burst of light and reappeared right in front of Momoshi. Pivoting sharply on his foot, he launched a roundhouse kick, but Momoshi raised his elbow and blocked the attack, his flames crackling with the impact. Before Momoshi could even counterattack, Yamero used his other leg and violently struck his opponent's foot, forcing him off balance. Taking advantage of this opening, Yamero followed up with a blistering jab to Momoshi's face.
The impact was devastating: a shockwave exploded around them, sending dust and debris flying, and the force of the blow ripping a gaping crater in the ground.
Yamero stood up slowly, casually wiping the dust off his shoulder. He sighed, his lowered gaze betraying a certain weariness, as if he completely underestimated Momoshi.
With a sharp movement, Momoshi placed his palm against the ground. A crushing heat spread through the air before several pillars of flame shot out, roaring like furious beasts. Yamero leaped back, his senses on alert, dodging each burning column with surgical precision. As he retreated, the distance between them widened, and soon they were several dozen meters apart.
Yamero raised his head, a smirk on his face and a cold gaze.
"Not a bad plan to keep me from finishing you off... but you're only delaying the inevitable. Resign yourself, Momoshi."
Momoshi gritted his teeth, his blazing aura crackling with intensity. His eyes burned with indomitable pride.
"Those who speak like that... are often the ones who end up face down in the dust."
He held out both hands, and two orbs of incandescent flame materialized, crackling like miniature suns. Without another word, he hurled them at Yamero.
The fighter dodged with a swift movement, his heart pounding in his chest but his mind confident. He thought he had already avoided the danger. But suddenly, a heat behind his back alerted him too late. The two flames, driven by a devious will, turned around and charged at him.
"Tch... what?!" exclaimed Yamero, his eyes wide.
The explosion engulfed him and hit him full force. The blast of the impact shook the ground, and Yamero fell back heavily, one knee and one foot on the ground. His panting breaths betrayed the pain he was trying to mask, his gaze oscillating between anger and admiration at Momoshi's cunning.
Momoshi, his eyes shining with cold assurance, declared in a voice that vibrated like the crackling of a fire:
"You may have avoided my flames, Yamero... but I am capable of controlling them from a distance, directing them like hungry snakes. No matter where you flee... they will always go where I want them."
A heavy silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the flames dancing around them.
Yamero tried to sit up, his breath coming in short bursts, but his body refused to mend itself. He placed his hand over a deep wound, instinctively seeking to trigger its healing power. Nothing. Not even a flicker of energy. His pupils dilated, an icy incomprehension piercing his heart.
He, a master of alchemical energy, accustomed to defying death with his healing powers... was rendered powerless. A subtle anxiety, the likes of which he hadn't felt in a long time, gripped him.
He gritted his teeth and said, his voice hoarse but determined:
"Your flames... they're not just flames, are they?"
A carnivorous smile stretched Momoshi's mouth, and he tilted his head slightly, savoring the worry in his opponent's gaze. An aura of fire erupted behind him, forming the silhouette of a glowing colossus.
"Indeed. My flames don't just burn flesh. They have three major effects, each more relentless than the last. The first is carcinogenic flames. They block the flow of energy, smothering powers like smothering a fire with ashes."
He took a step forward, and each word echoed like a condemnation:
"I can decide which faculty I want to annihilate." If I choose flow mode, my opponent can no longer expand his territory; he's deprived of his aura. But you, Yamero... I've decided to limit your healing abilities. Your body will almost never shut down, and your healing abilities will be extremely limited. Every injury will be permanent. And if you persist in pushing your limits... then your own body will turn against you, and it will self-destruct.
Off to one side, Daru paled, his eyes wide, fear etched in every line of his face. His voice burst out, vibrating with panic:
"Yamero... he's done for this time! This is a real death sentence!"
Maki, her heart pounding, clenched her fists and turned to him in despair:
"You're lying! There must be a loophole! Isn't there another way?!"
Daru looked away for a moment, his jaw clenched. His thoughts were jumbled: even he, accustomed to forbidden techniques, had never seen anything so absolute.
—Every technique has a flaw, it's true... but this one...
He paused, his dark gaze fixed on the ground cracked by their clash.
Maki, his voice cracked with anguish, insisted:
—So?! What is it?!
Daru slowly raised his head. His eyes reflected a truth so heavy that he seemed overwhelmed by it. He blurted out, like a burden too heavy:
—The only way to free oneself from the grip of these flames...
A terrible silence followed, the burning air seemed to weigh like a leaden weight.
——is for Yamero to die. Only death can free him from this grip.
The words fell like an irrevocable sentence.
Maki, struck head-on, brought both hands to her mouth, her eyes wide. Her breathing became ragged, her body trembled as if the ground had collapsed beneath her feet.
"Impossible... no... it's not possible..." she murmured, almost breathless.
And in the center of the battlefield, Yamero, his fists clenched, felt this truth like an icy blade stabbing into his heart. For the first time, he glimpsed that his power, his confidence, everything that made him strong, could be ripped away from him. But in his eyes, far from fear, a fierce glint was already beginning to emerge: that of someone who refuses to bend, even in the face of death.
Yamero (in his head, gritting his teeth, a glint of annoyance in his eyes):
Well... I must be extra careful now. It's impossible to continue attacking head-on, not with my regeneration sealed. I don't even know how many more times I can use it before my body gives out...
He took a short breath, concentrating his energy.
Twice? Six times? Maybe less... tch. I must play smart; every mistake could be my last.
Momoshi, clapping his palms together, caused a crown of fire to erupt around him. Ten incandescent columns rose up with a roar, lighting up the night as if hell had broken open.
His voice rang out, arrogant, charged with a burning intensity:
"Now's the time to get down to business, Yamero!"
Four of the pillars broke away with a hiss of heat and charged straight at Yamero like hungry fire snakes.
Yamero, concentrating, dodged with a sharp movement. But he frowned as the flames pursued him, oblivious to distance.
"Damn... they're not letting go!"
He leaped toward a nearby building and, with a precise movement, smashed a window to throw himself inside. The corridors were filled with civil servants, their screams echoing in the air as the heat grew behind him. The flames followed him, swallowing everything in their path.
Terrified employee: "Help!! Get out of here, quickly!"
Frightened faces, scattered papers, chaos gripped the building. Yamero accelerated, racing through the floors at breakneck speed, pushing past obstacles, leaping over walls and stairs as if they were mere sheets of paper.
But the pillars of flame didn't slow down. Worse still, their intensity increased, as if feeding off the surrounding air.
With a roar, Yamero shattered an entire wall and was thrown out of the building, falling violently to the asphalt several meters below.
A split second later... the building exploded.
A monstrous shockwave swept through the streets, tossing cars, blowing out shop windows, and transforming the sky into a sea of fire. Screams of horror rose from everywhere, general panic engulfing the entire city.
Yamero's eyes darkened as he saw the scene behind him, his fists clenching. …Shit. If I stay on the defensive too long, this monster will reduce the entire city to ashes.
Atop another building, Momoshi, flames dancing around him, burst into icy laughter:
"Run, Yamero! Run all you want! But know this… wherever you run, my flames will find you. And every step you take… condemns this world a little more."
Amid the chaos ignited by the explosion, Momoshi stood, surrounded by his six remaining pillars of flame, his expression implacable, while Yamero faced him, his breathing heavy but his gaze still sharp.
Momoshi (smiling wildly, his voice filled with arrogance):
"I warned you, Yamero. Those who boast always end up biting their fingers."
Yamero, straightening his torso despite his injuries, sketched a cold smile, a glint of irony in his eyes:
"You think you've bought a few moments, but it was only an ultimatum to delay your funeral... Don't worry, it will come. And soon."
Momoshi stretched out his hand, ready to project his deadly flames, but Yamero disappeared in a flash. Space distorted, and he reappeared behind him.
Momoshi, reacting quickly, pivoted and unleashed a torrent of burning fire from his palm, a wave of heat that pulverized the air around him. Yet... it was only a decoy.
A blast split the air. Yamero materialized in front of him, his fist already thrown. The shock was brutal, a wave of power shattering space.
BOOM!
Momoshi's torso absorbed the impact, but his interposed hand only cushioned the inevitable. His bones cracked with a sharp crunch. His body was thrown backward, passing through two buildings before crashing heavily with a crash of rubble.
A pool of blood escaped from his mouth, his breath taken away. The bones in his hand were broken, his chest crushed. For a few seconds, his body trembled, fragile, vulnerable... then his regenerative power kicked in. Slowly, his bones reformed, his breath returned, and he wiped the blood staining his lips with the back of his hand.
Momoshi (panting, but with a ferocious smile):
— You… created an illusion, didn't you?
Yamero, standing a few meters away, replied with icy assurance:
— Not exactly. The restriction you imposed on me prevents you from being fully attentive. My flow territory, however, is still active. I can amplify my speed and power again and again. I increased my speed, creating an afterimage behind you. While you were concentrating on it… I hit you head-on.
Momoshi's eyes shone with a mixture of rage and admiration.
Momoshi:
— But if you amplified your speed and not your strength, then how do you explain that blow? Even if you're strong, you haven't amplified your offensive strength to have such an ogre-like grip.
Yamero, a carnivorous smile playing on his lips, let out a short laugh:
"That's what you don't know... I have a special ability. The ability to increase the mass of my fist to a hundred times that of a human body. Imagine... a fist that doesn't just move fast, but weighs like a moving mountain. That's what broke your bones."
The silence hung for a moment, broken only by the roaring flames still devouring the surroundings.
Momoshi, cracking his neck, his gaze blazing:
"I've never been so happy to have a healing factor. Without it, I'd already be dead."
Under the pale glow of Tokyo's neon lights, Suka and Miya slipped through the city until they reached the immense silhouette of the presidential castle. The building loomed like a monster of stone and steel, bristling with surveillance turrets, protected by rows of armed soldiers and a network of invisible technology. The tension in the air was suffocating.
Suka, his eyes fixed on the building, felt a weight crush his chest. His voice became low but firm, filled with an icy urgency:
"Griselda has to be in there..." He clenched his fists, his jaw clenched. "We have to hurry; every minute lost could cost her her life."
Miya, her lips trembling, scanned the fortress. Her breath quickened as she imagined the density of the forces inside. Her voice vibrated with hesitation, almost helplessness:
"I'd like to... but look at what awaits us." She looked down for a second, as if guilt hit her hard. "Without my stealth gear... we won't be able to get through without unleashing hell. Maybe we could trap two soldiers, take their clothes, and blend in?"
Suka slowly turned his head toward her. His dark gaze pierced, cold and lucid, but his tone vibrated with suppressed anger.
"Do you really think that'll be enough?" Her words came out like a slap. "These units have all their data recorded at the White House. Every door, every corridor, every room in this castle is protected by a full-body scan. Fingerprints, heart rate, bone density, blood flow... everything is compared with the person's full physical." Her breathing became heavier, her heart beating faster with each word. "If you're not a perfect match, you're toast... and dead."
Miya felt an icy chill run down her spine. Her eyes widened at the brutal truth. Fear, frustration, and rage pooled in her stomach until she let out a nervous, almost strangled cry, "Shit!"
The night around them seemed to vibrate with unbearable tension. The beams of the searchlights swept across the entrance to the presidential castle, and the electronic buzzing of the sensors punctuated each second like an invisible threat. Suka, however, displayed an eerie, almost supernatural calm. His eyes shone with a determined glow as he whispered, in a deep but calm voice,
"I may have a way to allow us to enter without being detected."
Miya, who could still feel the cold sweat trickling down her back, turned abruptly to him, hope mixed with anxiety in her eyes. His voice betrayed both curiosity and fear of being disappointed.
"Which one?"
Suka gave a faint smile, a smile that contrasted with the gravity of the situation. His tone resonated with revelation:
"One of my yōkai has the ability to shrink objects... and even people. Enough to reach the size of an ant, or even smaller. If we reduce ourselves to that size, the sensors, cameras, and all that advanced technology... will no longer be able to do anything against us."
As he spoke, a yellowish aura began to emanate from him, dense and organic, like a mist of pure life. The ground vibrated slightly. On his forehead, chitinous mandibles slowly emerged, tearing the skin as if two worlds were intertwining. His eyes, however, transformed into two bright yellow spheres, glowing with a hypnotizing insectoid radiance. The contrast between his still-human face and these monstrous features gave Suka the appearance of a creature from another plane.
Miya took a step back, breathless. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to speak, but no words came out. Suka's aura suddenly expanded around them, like a wave of oppressive energy. And then, everything changed.
The world, immense and vast, reshaped itself before their eyes. The cobblestones of the street became colossal cliffs, the blades of grass rose like verdant towers, and the smallest grains of dust seemed like suspended rocks. In the space of a heartbeat, Suka and Miya had become tiny, shrunk to the size of ants.
Miya watched her hands tremble, and a shiver ran down her spine. Her voice rose, both amazed and terrified:
"It's... unreal... we're... so small..."
Suka, however, remained upright despite his half-human, half-insectoid appearance. His yellow eyes shone even brighter as he breathed, almost with icy pride, "Now... no device in the world will be able to see us. To them... we no longer exist."
And, at that insignificant size, they gazed at the President's castle. Gigantic. Impassable on a human scale... but now like a mountain bristling with invisible caverns and tunnels.
Suka, thanks to the Golden Mark, could instantly teleport to the location of the person he had marked. This time, he and Miya projected themselves directly into the room where Griselda stood alone with President Yamoshi. The room was imposing, almost overwhelming, with glittering chandeliers and walls covered in golden woodwork. Every movement echoed in the silent room, amplifying the tension.
Shrunk to tiny sizes by their previous transformation, Suka and Miya ducked under an open drawer, their widened eyes scrutinizing every detail. Miya, breathless and her heart pounding, whispered, "Suka... I... I can't believe we're so close... It's terrifying..."
Suka, her bright yellow eyes shining with a focused glow, nodded wordlessly. Her jaw tightened, adrenaline pumping through her veins. "Every word counts… stay focused…" he murmured, almost to himself.
Griselda, standing there, elegant and arrogant, drew gently on her cigarette. The smoke slithered through the air like a snake, undulating around her. Her icy voice rose:
"Mr. Yamoshi, we've been able to get rid of the largest rebel groups in Japan. Only the small fry remain."
Yamoshi frowned, concern evident behind his mask of calm.
"Fine… but tell me, how did you bend Rhea's group to your will? They're one of the most powerful rebel groups, with considerable resources."
Griselda smiled cruelly, letting smoke escape from her lips like a sinister veil.
"I have the ability to manipulate minds, to penetrate people's thoughts..."
Yamoshi, intrigued but cautious, asked, "And how exactly does that work?"
Griselda paused, slowly releasing a cloud of smoke, emphasizing each word.
"It's simple. I only have to look at my target. Even without direct eye contact, they are already in my control. I can control them as I wish: make them die of cardiac arrest, remain motionless, attack others, commit suicide, remove a kidney... or perform other "exquisite gestures."
She turned her head slightly, as if to illustrate the extent of her control.
"And for this group of rebels... thousands of individuals, imagine... I simply extended my aura. Every mind, every thought, every fiber of their will obeyed me instantly." As if I were pulling the strings of an infinite puppet.
Miya felt her stomach tighten, a cold shiver running down her spine. Her fingers clenched on the drawer betrayed her tension.
"Suka... it's... it's... inhuman... she controls thousands of lives as if they were toys..."
Suka whispered to Miya, his breath short and his heart pounding:
"What shocks me most about all this... is the reaction of the supposed protector of the country. It's like he's in cahoots with Griselda and her clique..."
Miya frowned, her fists clenched:
"Maybe... maybe he's under her control..."
Suka shook his head, his bright yellow gaze piercing the shadow of the drawer:
"No... I don't think so. Rhea's troupe, when controlled, would never have been able to express themselves with such clarity. Nor hold a coherent conversation. This... is different. He's conscious. Too conscious..."
At that moment, Griselda slid her hand toward a box set with dark stones and removed the famous relic: the Heart of Shadow. A sinister aura spread around her, casting a dark glow throughout the room.
Yamoshi stood up slowly, his face impassive but his eyes betraying a certain interest.
"So this is the object... that allows you to carry out your projects?"
Griselda smiled, a cruel and precise smile, and replied in an icy voice:
"Exactly. It acts as a catalyst. It absorbs positive alchemical energy and transforms it into negative energy. It considerably improves the morphology, stamina, senses, strength, and speed of humans modified by it... and grants them new powers."
Suka felt a shiver run down his spine. Gripping the drawer, he murmured:
"It's... terrifying..."
Yamoshi straightened fully and extended his hand towards Griselda.
"Very interesting. It's time to conclude our deal and move on to the next step."
But Griselda burst into a cold, sadistic laugh, the relic hovering slightly above her palm, radiating a dark energy that made the room vibrate. "No… we won't move on to the next stage. We'll go directly to the final stage. It's time for the world to take a new… and much darker… stage."
Miya felt her heart skip a beat, the pressure in her temples intensifying. Every fiber of her body screamed the imminent danger.
Suka gritted his teeth, the aura around his insectoid eyes pulsing with a big glow. "If that… witch thinks we're going to stand here and watch, she's wrong…"
The room suddenly seemed smaller, more stifling. The air vibrated with an invisible threat, and in the heavy silence, Suka and Miya understood that every second counted… and that their next decision would be crucial.
Griselda, after shaking Yamoshi's hand, raised her free hand, and the relic lit up with an aura of shadow. Her body began to vibrate, her image blurring like a flame distorted by the wind. She was about to teleport.
Suka, with a movement as instinctive as it was calculated, placed his hand on Miya's shoulder and whispered, "We have no choice. We're going with her."
Without wasting a second, he activated the Mark of Oros. In an instant, their bodies disappeared in a burst of dark light and reappeared directly on Griselda's shoulders, hidden within the teleportation flux. The witch was unaware of it.
When the distortion cleared, Suka and Miya opened their eyes... and remained frozen.
They had arrived at a sort of colossal unit, suspended in the sky above an endless desert. The floating structure stretched as far as the eye could see, so vast that it was three times the size of a major Japanese city. Titanic platforms housed entire battalions of armed soldiers, endless rows of armored robots, and high-tech tanks whose guns glowed with condensed energy. In the sky, floating ships patrolled, forming a web of war ready to close in on any target.
Miya swallowed hard, her pupils trembling at the immensity of what she saw:
"It's... it's a flying fortress..."
Suka frowned, his gaze sweeping over the control towers bristling with antennas and the thousands of searchlights trained on the desert as if watching for the arrival of invisible enemies. A cold sweat trickled down his back.
"No... it's much more than that, it's the very core of the extremist organization's final plan."
At the center of this megastructure, an immense black dome pulsed with energy. Strange streams of light emanated from it, coursing through the entire unit like veins of darkness. Suka understood at once: this was the operational core, and probably linked to the relic Griselda still held in her hands.