The moment you webnoviggers have been finally waiting for is here.
~Start~
"HA! YOU'RE FUCKED NOW! THAT'S RIGHT! LOOK AT 'EM ALL! MY BOYS ARE HERE! YOU AIN'T SHIT, YOU SWORD-LOVING DEVIGGER TWINK KNIGHT! THEY'RE ALL COMIN FOR THAT ASS BITCH!"
A moment of silence passes, as the horde readies to pounce and tear apart the one who dared to harm their master.
And then Kiba's calm and steady voice cut through the tension.
"A thousand blades rise into the sky,Forged to protect—never to die.Winged and blessed, my pride ignites,No mercy. No shelter. No place to hide!"
A surge of power exploded out from Kiba like a shockwave of blinding silver. The whole battlefield lit up like someone cracked open the heavens. Everyone—Mahito, the monsters, even Issei from afar—was momentarily blinded by the brilliance.
And when they finally uncovered their eyes and their vision returned.
They froze.
Thousands—thousands—of silver swords hung in the sky like it was unlimited fucking blade works, each one shimmering with ethereal energy, gleaming like the wrath of a god given edge and form.
Kiba floated beneath them, completely transformed.
He wore radiant silver knight armor that looked like it was forged out of swords, every inch of it glowing with a silver aura. His right side still bore his massive wing made of blades, now fully extended, fully alive—each sword shifting slightly like feathers bristling before a storm. In his left hand, he gripped a longsword burning silver flame like aura, like it was alive with purpose.
And then Kiba spoke again—louder, voice carried by power itself.
"A world of swords, a wing that gleams,Where my blades rule—no more dreams.The Winged Slayer, born of pain and flame,To protect the ones I love—I carve that name!"
Mahito's grin finally faltered.
"OH SHI—"
[Balance Breaker! Winged Slayer Series: Blade Storm!]
In that instant—
A storm erupted.
Swords rained down from above and the cracked streets were flooded with black blood. As thousands of silver blades tore through the air in all directions on the cursed horde below and firing up toward the flying Seekers above. The moment they made contact, there were shredded like paper. Gorehounds were ripped apart mid-sprint. Corpsebrutes were sliced into slabs. Stalkers were minced through walls before they could move. The airborne Seekers fell like flies as they were impaled mid-flight.
The Curse Marines managed to get some shots off which pinged off Kiba's armor before the swords fell upon them as well.
Whole squads fell as they were skewered all over their bodies.
But these weren't just any grunts—these were Mahito'sfreaks. Soldiers built from nightmare fuel, built by cursed shenanigans and bullshit binding vows. Even after getting skewered by a dozen blades—limbs dangling, torsos torn open, heads barely hanging on—most of the Curse Marines just got back up.
It was as if death was just a suggestion to them.
And then they started shooting back.
Newly made cursed energy infused bone rounds came screaming through the air from their bolters—ripping into Kiba's armor, sparking and scratching the silver plates. He gritted his teeth and threw up a wall of floating swords just in time to intercept the worst of the barrage.
Then—CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Heavier hits slammed into him, rocking him mid-air.
More powerful and harder hitting transfigured bolters and heavy bolters started shooting at him from the back.
The Cursed Custodians had joined the fight.
These were the elite—monsters in grotesque, muscle-wrapped exo-suits. Bigger, meaner, and damn near unkillable. They tanked the earlier sword rain like it was nothing. What little damage they took regenerated in seconds, chunks of flesh sealing up like time was rewinding.
And then they pulled out the skull launchers—fleshy and bony rpg like thingies that belched cursed energy propelled exploding skulls. A volley exploded around Kiba, forcing him back through the air as the shockwaves hammered into him. He raised his sword wing like a shield, taking the brunt—but it still rattled him.
He wasn't gonna just sit there and take it, though.
With a roar, Kiba swiped his sword wing in a massive arc—and unleashed a massive silver slash. It tore through the battlefield like a scythe—cutting through rooftops, rubble, streets… and an unlucky squad of Custodians who were obliterated in an instant that were in the way.
But it didn't stop them.
The rest of Mahito's army was already adapting.
The Marines and Custodians spread out like predators—ducking through ruined buildings, leaping over rubble, circling around him. They fired cursed rounds non-stop, trying to find blind spots, pushing harder and harder from every angle.
And yet—Kiba's swords didn't stop moving.
They swarmed. Spinning and zipping through the air like living blades of vengeance. They weaved between enemy fire and tore through flesh and armor alike. Every time a cursed freak tried to dodge or shoot them down, they were too slow.
These swords didn't miss.
They didn't stop.
And they sure as hell didn't break as they were as durable as his armor.
Most enemies regenerated fast enough to keep fighting, gaping wounds closing in seconds. But others were not so lucky.
Some got double-pierced, both hearts stabbed at once.
Some got decapitated mid-sprint.
Some were just... gone, shredded into wet chunks before they even knew what hit them.
Kiba wasn't just gonna let himself be an easy stationary target so he flew. With a flap of his wing he tore across the battlefield like a silver storm. Every flap of his sword-wing sent him slicing through the air, zipping between ruined buildings and crumbling streets, blurring past groups of Curse Marines before they could even blink.
SHNK—SHNK—SHNK.
Heads flew. Bodies dropped. Whole squads crumpled to the ground in a blink as Kiba flashed through them, his longsword cutting clean through cursed flesh like it was paper. Most of them didn't even realize they were dead until their heads hit the ground.
But then the Cursed Custodians stepped in—and these bastards weren't pushovers.
They saw him coming.
They moved with him.
They blocked his swings with transfigured cleavers, bone-forged swords, and jagged axes dripping with cursed energy. When they clashed, it sounded like steel screaming against hellfire. Their attacks came fast, brutal, almost berserker-like—but even when they landed hits, they barely scratched his armor. A few small dents here and there. Nothing that slowed him down.
Kiba didn't flinch.
He traded blows like a demon in knight's armor, sparks flying with every parry. And when he found an opening—SNAP!—he'd decapitate them in one clean, practiced motion.
Didn't matter how tough their suits were, or how fast they healed—Kiba was faster. Meaner. Sharper.
He was cutting through Mahito's army one cursed freak at a time.
FWSSHH! — CLANG! — SNAP!
A thick, cursed chain tore through the air like a viper and snagged tight around Kiba's leg mid-flight.
KRK-KRRAK! — TWANG!
The sudden pull ripped him right out of the sky, yanking him in the complete opposite direction like a ragdoll. Before he could even recover—BAM!—he was slammed through rubble and straight into a meteor drop from Doe, who came crashing down from above like a damn boulder.
Kiba hit the ground hard, crushed under Doe's full weight as dust and chunks of debris exploded outward.
Then the beatdown started.
Doe roared, standing on Kiba's back, and began slamming his fists down like a cursed Harambe on crack—BAM! BAM! BAM!—pounding into Kiba's armor with wild, brutal force. Each hit dented the silver plating deeper and deeper, making the metal groan under the pressure while Kiba's body shook inside, bones rattling, vision spinning.
Before Doe could break through, Kiba gritted his teeth and called out to his swords—FWIP FWIPFWIP!—hundreds of swords shot out in every direction towards Doe.
Doe was forced to leap back, snarling as he pulled out both of his massive heavy bolters from his back and started blasting the incoming blades out of the air.
BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!
Rounds exploded with cursed energy, blowing apart the swords mid-flight. And right then—Dil came rolling in, sliding into cover in front of Doe. Without missing a beat, he joined in—firing his own bolter while extending barbed tendrils from his exo-suit, whipping and lashing out in wide arcs.
Sparks and cursed rounds lit the battlefield as the two held their ground, clearing the air of Kiba's blades one shot and crack-whip at a time.
After clearing the air of blades, Doe and Dil didn't waste a second—they both opened fire on Kiba the moment they had a clear shot.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
Cursed bone rounds screamed through the sky. Kiba had just regained his balance and was about to take off again when the first few shots slammed into him. Doe's heavy bolters hit like trucks—one round nearly knocked Kiba out of the sky completely. And Dil's thinner, faster shots nearly punched through his armor.
Kiba grunted and instinctively threw his sword wing in front of him, shielding himself as he backpedaled mid-air, sparks flying from the impacts.
But then—he noticed something behind him.
A Seeker—one of those airborne freaks monsters—was closing in fast, diving straight at him like a missile. Kiba glanced back but quickly looked forward again, deciding not to worry. The real threat's in front of me.
He was dead wrong.
The Seeker wasn't just dive bombing.
It was pulling off a binding vow kamikaze strike—throwing away its cursed life for a one-shot kill.
WHAM!!
It hit him dead in the back like a cursed meteor.
Kiba's entire body lit up in pain. His armor cracked all over from the impact, sharp silver fragments bursting outward as he screamed and got blasted straight down. His body slammed into the street—CRASH!—digging a long trench into the ruined concrete, sparks and dust spraying as he skidded hard.
"Fuck—!" Kiba gasped, wheezing as he tried to breathe. His whole back was on fire. It felt like his spine had almost snapped in two. He could barely move at first, but sheer will and adrenaline forced him to plant his sword into the ground, using it to push himself up slowly.
Dust swirled around him as he flared his sword wing again—barely managing to stay on his feet.
'I didn't think that thing would hit that hard...' Kiba cursed in his head, blood dripping from his mouth as he prepared to get back in the air.
But he didn't have the luxury to catch his breath.
Like shadows with fangs, a pack of Stalkers lunged in from all directions—silent, fast, and deadly. They darted through the smoke and debris, those sick, mantis-like arms slashing toward him with razor precision. They weren't aiming randomly—they went straight for the weak points. The cracks in his armor. The exposed flesh left behind after the Seeker's impact. Every gash, dent, or gap was a target.
SLASH—SLASH—SLASH!
Kiba gritted his teeth, blood spurting from fresh cuts as he twisted mid-air. Then—FWOOM!—he unleashed his sword wing in a wide, vicious spin. A 360-degree shockwave ripped out from him like a divine blender, tearing all the Stalkers to shreds in one brutal sweep. Their regeneration couldn't even keep up—limbs, heads, and cursed ichor went flying in every direction.
But it came at a cost.
The sheer force of the slash kicked up a storm of dust and rubble—blinding him for just a second.
And that second was all Gob needed.
CLANK—SNAP!
From the dust, cursed chainbladeswrapped tight around Kiba's body, locking down his limbs with barbed steel. Before he could free himself—WHAM!—he was ripped off his feet and slammed straight into a nearby building. The wall crumbled like cardboard.
He hit the ground hard, coughing blood as he dropped to one knee—only to hear a hissss right in front of him.
Blair was waiting.
Her cursedbile thrower unleashed a torrent of glowing cursed sludge straight at his face and chest.
SPSSSSHHHH—!
The acidic bile splattered all over him, melting and weakening his armor. Kiba screamed in pain as it burned into the skin underneath, searing nerves and muscles, smoke rising from the exposed spots and open wounds of his body.
But Blair wasn't done.
CHUNK-CHUNK—BOOM!!
Her cursed bomb launchers—mounted right on her shoulders—locked on and fired straight at the acid-covered spots. The cursed shells slammed into him and detonated hard, igniting the bile like napalm.
WHOOOOM!
Kiba's entire body lit up in a blinding combustion. Fire, bile, smoke—all swirling around him in a howling explosion.
The air reeked of sulfur and burning flesh.
Kiba coughed up blood, the taste metallic and thick on his tongue. His vision blurred, but he still forced himself up—knees shaking, body screaming. With a snarl, he dragged his battered frame upright into a kneel and swung his sword wing in a vicious horizontal arc.
FWWOOOOM!
A massive silver slash roared out like a hurricane blade, cutting the air in half as it tore toward Blair—ready to mince her clean from existence.
But then—
Freed.
The bastard dropped in front of her like a deranged guardian angel with a murder fetish.
His greatsword already raised high above his head—veins along the jagged blade glowing bright purple, pulsing like a cursed heartbeat. "Heheheh... Let's fuckin' dance then, you twinky tin can!" he shouted, eyes wild.
Then he swung.
A dark, howling slash erupted from his sword—similar to Kiba's own. It carved through the ground like a quake made of rage, clashing head-on with Kiba's silver wave.
The impact shook the air like thunder.
Both slashes slammed into each other in a blinding storm of light and pressure, held in brutal deadlock for a few seconds—neither giving way—until Freed's twisted grin widened.
And then—his overpowered it.
His cursed slash pushed through, cutting through Kiba's wave with raw, chaotic force. It crashed into Kiba before he could fully brace—
THWACK—SHRRKK!
The slash slammed into his chest plate, tearing through the weakened armor and digging deep. Blood erupted from Kiba's torso in a brutal spray, painting the ground red.
He flew back like a ragdoll, barely managing to twist his body mid-air to crash hard onto the pavement instead of landing on his back.
If that hit hadn't been weakened by the clash, it would've cut him clean in two—armor or not.
And even now he could barely breathe.
But Freed wasn't done—not even close.
The bastard took off in a full-on sprint, his massive armored frame tearing through the ruins like a juggernaut on steroids. Every step he made boomed, the earth cracking under his feet because it literally couldn't handle his weight and metaphorically because of his sheer bloodlust. He smashed through buildings, houses, debris—didn't even slow down. Just a straight-up wrecking ball in cursed armor, barreling straight for Kiba like a runaway demon train.
Kiba gritted his teeth, pain flaring in every nerve as blood dripped down his side. But he didn't flinch. Instead, he raised his longsword, eyes burning, and roared—
"COME ON THEN!"
He pointed his blade at Freed—and in a flash, hundreds of his silver swords still sweeping across the battlefield shifted direction mid-air. They locked onto Freed like a silver storm and rushed in from all sides, stabbing down at him.
The same blades that tore through transfigured monsters like tissue paper…
…bounced off.
Clangs and Freed's psychotic laugher echoed through the streets like hail on steel.
The swords scraped, chipped, and even snapped as they collided with Freed's cursed armor—barely leaving a mark. He just kept charging, plowing through them, swatting some aside with raw momentum while others shattered against his pauldrons and chest like they were nothing more than glitter.
"OOHH YEAH! I'M COMING FOR THAT ASS BOYY!"
The unstoppable freight train didn't slow down.
Didn't break stride.
Didn't even blink.
He was coming.
And he was coming to kill. Maybe.
Kiba was too slow.
Freed barreled into him—shoulder-checking him so hard it felt like getting hit by a cursed train. The air was knocked out of him instantly as he was blasted through building after building, walls crumbling around his body like wet paper. Then—WHAM!—Freed followed up by batting him away mid-air with that massive greatsword like he was nothing but a toy.
Kiba slammed into the ground hard, skidding across the cracked pavement like a crash test dummy. The world spun. His armor groaned and cracked. Multiple somethings inside definitely broke.
'Pain…'
He coughed, blood leaking from his lips. His whole body screamed. It felt like his insides were trying to crawl out of his skin.
'It hurts… it hurts so damn much.'
And then he heard it.
The sound of thousands of footsteps, heavy and methodical, surrounding him from every direction. A wave of death marching straight for his broken body.
'But I… I have to keep going.'
He forced his hand down. Fingers trembling. Elbows locking. One push at a time. Shaking, flinching, burning—he pulled himself back up.
When he looked up… his heart sank, but his resolve only hardened.
There were hundreds of Stalkers slithering in the shadows—still lurking, still watching, mantis-blades twitching in anticipation.
Hundreds of Cursed Custodians lined the wreckage like executioners, their twisted bolters aimed right at him. And behind them… thousands of Curse Marines, forming ranks, weapons at the ready.
The sky was still blotted out by Seekers. Their swarm still so dense it turned the sun into a distant smudge behind their wings.
Kiba's breath came heavy, ragged, but steady.
'I'll keep fighting… and burn my life away!'
Then came the first four.
Dil.
Doe.
Gob.
Blair.
Each one stepped forward with a smug grin or a cruel laugh, eyes locked on his battered body like hyenas about to tear into a wounded lion.
And at the front of them all, walking like he owned the world—Freed.
He giggled maniacally, resting that massive sword on his back like a casual bat, eyes glowing with sadistic joy as he stared down at Kiba's crumpled form.
'Let my friends… my family… keep on burning their lives brightly... upon my ashes.'
With a defiant roar, Kiba stood tall—bloody, broken, armor hanging off him in shards—but burning with resolve. He raised his head high and called out to every single sword he had left. Bent. Dented. Cracked. Chipped. Didn't matter.
They answered.
Silver blades lit up the sky once more, orbiting him like angry stars.
He faced the horde.
Alone.
And didn't take a single step back.
~~~
Issei finally reached them—finally got to where Rias and the others were after being momentarily stunned by the sheer power Kiba had shown back there. That silver light… those swords… it burned into his mind. But whatever awe or hope he felt died the second he saw what was waiting for him.
Koneko was on her knees, crying as she held Rias in her arms. Rias was unconscious, barely breathing, her body bruised and bloodied all over, the burns on her body still fresh and her right arm was bent unnaturally with her bone sticking out of her elbow. Her red hair was caked with dirt and blood, her face pale.
Tsubaki was a few feet away, trying not to cry and failing miserably. She was clutching Sona—battered, her face twisted in pain, still completely unconscious.
But none of that was what made Issei's stomach drop.
It was the absence.
Akeno was gone.
No body. No trace. Just… gone.
And then there was Saji—or what was left of him.
Issei froze.
His mind refused to process it at first.
Saji was barely more than a broken husk. His arms and legs were just… gone, cut clean off at the joints, the flesh around the stumps were warped and sealed shut to stop the bleeding. As if they didn't want him to die but to suffer. His eyes had been gouged out, leaving only bleeding, empty sockets. He was laid out on the ground, his chest rising and falling in these shallow, twitchy breaths, like he was only clinging to life out of sheer stubbornness.
Asia wasn't there either.
Gone—just like Akeno.
And once again… Issei felt truly helpless.
Like the entire world had just collapsed right in front of him.
"Wh… what the hell happened?" Issei asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were wide, his body frozen, like his brain was struggling to catch up with everything he was seeing. He looked from Rias to Sona… then to Saji's mangled form.
Tsubaki was the one who finally broke the silence.
"I… I was the first one to find them," she said quietly, her voice shaky, eyes glued to the ground like saying it out loud physically hurt. "Rias, Koneko, and… Akeno's body. I found them first."
Issei's heart skipped a beat at that.
"I brought Sona and Asia to where they were… tried to keep them together and safe while I went to look for the rest of our team. I thought—maybe they were still okay, maybe someone got out, something…"
She swallowed hard, shaking her head.
"I found Saji inside the club building. I don't even know how he was still breathing. He was just lying there in a pool of blood. His limbs… his eyes—they were just… gone. Like someone ripped them out slow."
Her voice cracked.
"Reya and Momo were nowhere to be found. Just… blood. Torn-up pieces of their uniforms. Stains." She hesitated. "Semen stains."
Issei felt something twist in his gut. Rage, grief, disgust—all boiling at once.
Tsubaki continued, barely keeping it together. "I brought Saji back here. I just wanted to regroup, get them out of danger. But when I got back…"
Her hands clenched into fists.
"They'd been attacked again. While I was gone. I shouldn't have left. I thought it was safe—I thought…"
She trailed off, her voice breaking, shoulders trembling as she turned away.
Koneko spoke next, her voice low, hoarse—like she'd cried so much her throat was raw.
"After Tsubaki left… Asia started healing Sona first. Then she went to Rias." She sniffled, eyes still red and puffy, her hands trembling as she gripped Rias's unconscious body tighter. "Akeno… she—"
She swallowed hard, barely able to say it.
"She was already too far gone. Asia couldn't do anything. Not even her sacred gear could… could bring her back."
Issei's breath caught, and Koneko kept going.
"Rias got this idea. Said she'd try calling her brother again, while all those freaks—the monsters, the huge ones—were still busy with Kiba. We thought… maybe we had a shot."
Her voice shook harder now, her body barely keeping it together.
"She started the spell. It was working. But then the Seekers came—they were still around here, waiting from above and they just dove straight for her while ignoring everything else."
"I-I tried to cover her," Koneko said through clenched teeth. "I punched, kicked as many as I could. Rias was still channeling the spell while blasting them into dust with her free hand."
She looked down at Rias with a pained expression. "They weren't coming in too fast, just enough to make it hard. We held them off—barely. Only reason we stood a chance was 'cause Kiba was still wrecking everything, keeping most of them off us."
"But then…"
Her voice cracked.
"Just as the connection finally went through—just as she got her brother on the line—a Harvester erupted from the ground. It came from nowhere. Didn't even give us a second."
Koneko's fists clenched.
"It swallowed Akeno's body whole. Just like that. I tried—I tried to stop it but I couldn't. I was already drained, back to my normal power. My body just… wouldn't move fast enough."
Her eyes were watering again.
"Then it took Asia. Right in front of me. She screamed, and then she was just gone."
Issei felt his heart collapse in his chest.
"But we kept it from getting to Sona." Koneko said shakily. "Rias—Rias snapped. Her power went wild. She blasted the damn thing so hard it fled underground. She scared it off."
Koneko glanced back down at Rias.
"But it cost her. That little pause—the second she let her guard down…"
A Seeker slammed into Rias from above, Koneko explained. Cracked her ribs. Broke her arm. Cut off the connection to Sirzechs mid-sentence. The spell shattered—and just like that, the Seekers all… stopped.
They didn't kill them and finish the j*b.
They just flew off.
"Like they'd only come to shut the call down," Koneko whispered bitterly. "Like they didn't even care about the rest of us anymore."
She looked at Issei with tears in her eyes again.
"Then Tsubaki came back here carrying Saji and finally that's when you showed up."
Issei swallowed hard. His throat was dry, heart pounding, hands shaking. He tried to keep it together—for them. For himself.
"H-He should be here soon," he said, forcing the words out. "Sirzechs. Rias's brother. He has to be… he should show up any minute now, right?"
Koneko looked at him. Her eyes full of hope—and pain.
"…Yeah," she said softly, then lowered her head and shook it. "But teleportation from the Underworld to Earth… even for someone like him, it still takes time. At least five minutes. Could be ten."
Issei cursed under his breath, pressing a trembling hand to his forehead as he took in a deep breath. Then—he stood. Shaky at first. But steady enough to move.
"Alright… then we need to find a better spot," he said, voice tight. "Somewhere safer. Somewhere you can hide and keep Rias and the others protected."
Koneko blinked up at him. "Wait—where are you going?"
He looked down at her, eyes burning with determination, even through the fear.
"I'm going back to Kiba," he said. "I'm not gonna let him fight all of that alone. We just need to hold out. Just for a few more minutes. If we can stall them… Sirzechs'll wipe the floor with those freaks."
He turned to go—but her hand grabbed his wrist.
"Koneko…?"
Before he could react, she stepped in close and quickly pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Just a brief touch. But it hit harder than any blast he'd taken this afternoon.
"Come back," she said, voice quiet but firm. "You and Kiba. Both of you."
Issei froze for a second. Then gave her a weak smile, eyes a little glassy.
"…Yeah," he nodded. "I will."
Then he turned, grit his teeth, and took off—sprinting back toward the battlefield, toward the chaos, toward Kiba.
Koneko just stood there for a moment. Watching him.
Watching his back disappear into the smoke.
~~~
Issei ran like hell, legs burning, lungs heaving—but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
He was back to a full eight boosts now, the Boosted Gear pulsing with raw energy on his arm, humming with every step. He'd been stacking boosts the whole time—since he'd left Kiba behind, since he found Rias and the others, since he heard what Mahito's army had done from Koneko.
Now, he was sprinting back toward the nightmare.
["Partner,"], Ddraig's voice rumbled from the gear, low and tense. ["Something's wrong. Your friend… he was still holding that creature and its horde off—but now, it's quiet. Too quiet. Be on guard. Steel your heart."]
Issei's face tightened. He didn't say anything—just kept running, picking up speed.
And then he saw it.
Black blood, thick and congealed, splattered across shattered pavement and cratered walls. Silver swords embedded deep in the streets, sticking out of broken buildings and bodies—thousands of bodies. Transfigured freaks, all dead, some still twitching. Curse Marines and even a few of those hulking Custodians. Gutted. Burnt. Torn in half. Some of them looked like they'd been cleaved clean through.
But the worst part?
Some were still moving.
One dragged itself by a single remaining arm, the entire lower half gone, its ribs scraping the road as it giggled and whispered nonsense to itself. Another was just a head and a chunk of spine attached to a shoulder with it's ribs gone but it's two hearts that were exposed were still beating, it twitched toward him, flesh bubbling, regrowing.
"Not today, freak," Issei growled.
CRUNCH—he stomped the first one's skull in.
CRACK—he crushed the second with another blow, not even slowing down.
He kept running, eyes darting, heart pounding.
Then he saw the aftermath—real damage. Streets torn in half like a blade the size of a truck had cut through them. A long trench gouged through the road like something huge had plowed its way across the battlefield. Houses crushed, buildings snapped like twigs. It looked like a damn train had barreled through—no, something worse.
The farther he went, the more wreckage he passed. Sword-slashed corpses, dismembered freaks, melted ground, and scorched-out chunks of rubble where something exploded. Multiple blocks had been turned into a war zone.
But no sign of Kiba.
No sign of Mahito.
Just blood, destruction, and a deep, gut-twisting silence hanging over it all.
Issei slowed a bit, breathing heavier, eyes scanning every inch.
"…Kiba," he whispered. "Please still be alive…"
Issei finally made it into a wide clearing—and the moment he saw it, he froze. Everything around had been leveled. No buildings left standing, no walls still intact—just heaps of shattered concrete, twisted metal, and scorched earth. The whole area looked like a damn bomb had gone off and kept going.
And then he saw them.
The horde.
Mahito's army was still there—all of them. The freaks. The abominations. The nightmares.
Seekers circled overhead still. Curse Marines lined up along the shattered road, their twisted weapons raised high as they hooted and hollered like a bunch of drunk psychos at a cage match. Cursed Custodians towered behind them, stomping the ground, banging weapons against their exo-suits, laughing with cruel, guttural joy.
They were all watching.
A show. A slaughter.
Right in the middle of it all—Kiba.
And Mahito.
Issei's heart plummeted.
Kiba was still on his feet—barely. Mahito was beating the shit out of him, bare fists slamming into his ribs, his gut, his jaw—over and over. No defense. No counter. Kiba wasn't even trying to block anymore. He just got knocked down again and again… and somehow still dragged himself back up every time.
And every time he did, Mahito and the horde laughed harder.
Kiba didn't look like the knight from before.
His power—gone.
His silver armor—shattered, melted, fused into his body like some sick mockery of what it once was. His wing of blades? Cracked, bent, shrunk down to a twisted stub of broken metal barely holding form.
His left side... destroyed.
Half of his face looked melted—skin blackened and charred to the bone. His shoulder and arm on that side, a pulpy mess of raw muscle and bone, twitching with every hit Mahito threw.
And his eye—his one remaining eye—was hollow.
Empty.
There was no glow in it. No fire. No rage. No strength.
Just pain.
A hollow, broken stare from a warrior who had nothing left but the refusal to stay down.
Issei stood there, frozen, trembling.
That wasn't just a loss he was looking at.
That was torture.
That was a slow, deliberate execution—with an audience.
And Kiba was the main act.
Or so he thought.
"Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!" Mahito called out, grinning ear to ear as he raised both arms like he was announcing a game show winner. "The main course is here, ladies and freaks! The bitch I've been waiting for! Took you long enough, Red Dragon Dumbass."
He lazily gestured over at Kiba with one thumb. "Was starting to think your pretty boy here wouldn't last much longer, so I figured I'd beat the shit outta him to kill time. And, hoooh, lemme tell you—I was bored."
The crowd of monsters around him howled with laughter.
Mahito smirked wide, eyes flicking between Kiba and Issei. "Go on then, I'll be nice. Let you two have your emotional anime bro moment before I paint the dirt with both your guts. Any last words, not-so-pretty-boy?"
Issei took a shaky step forward, eyes wide, heart thudding against his ribs like it wanted to break free.
Kiba.
Kiba looked like he'd been through hell, and then got thrown back in for another round. And yet… when their eyes met—something shifted.
That one remaining eye.
For a second, there was light in it.
Like a flicker of who he used to be. Of the knight that refused to fall.
Slowly—agonizingly—Kiba forced himself up, bones creaking, flesh tearing. His whole body trembled, legs barely holding, the pain screaming through every nerve. But he moved. He stood. For one last time.
Then—gritting his teeth, eyes locked on Issei—he raised his mangled arm, the ruined limb twitching and bloody, and pointed straight at him.
"...It's... your tur—"
SPLORCH!!
KRSHHH-THWUMP!
SPLAT.
His entire upper half exploded—flesh, bone, muscle—gone in an instant. A fountain of blood and gore sprayed in every direction, bits of organs flopping to the ground.
Chunks of his chest cavity rained down—wet, raw, and twitching.
All that was left was a mangled, kneeling torso. And silence.
SCHLK... SPLSH...
His remains hit the ruined earth in a sickening splash of viscera and dripping meat.
Standing just behind him, Mahito's outstretched hand was still raised fingers splayed, glowing faintly with cursed energy.
"Whoops~!" he giggled, tilting his head like a teasing child. "My hand slipped! Teehee~!"
Then he broke into wild, unhinged laughter.
"Hehehehehehe!"
~~~