At the sound of Moyu's voice, time seemed to freeze.
The violent thunder erupted from his fingertips, racing forward with blistering speed toward the podium.
A surge of white-hot lightning struck the hardened target dead-on.
BOOM!!
The explosive crack split the room, rattling the eardrums of Onoue Yuta.
Setsuna's eyes widened to the limit, instinctively shifting into a defensive stance trained for Kidō combat.
Danger.
In that instant, when the shockwave of Byakurai came crashing in, Yuta Onoue felt the chill of death brush past his soul.
Bakudō #39: Enkōsen!
It was the strongest defensive Kidō he could cast in time.
But the ferocious white lightning that shattered the target still surged with undiminished force, slamming directly into the circular barrier before him.
A grating, high-pitched tearing sound echoed across the room. The protective shield cracked, forming web-like fissures across its surface.
In a flash, it was pushed to its very limit.
Luckily, Moyu's Byakurai began to fade, breaking into scattered threads of light and dissolving into the air.
Only ruin remained at the podium.
Onoue Yuta's face was darkened with scorch marks, his robes disheveled, his composure shattered.
When he finally opened his mouth, a wisp of black smoke curled from his lips.
It was clear—what had just happened shook the very foundation of his beliefs.
The room was silent for a beat.
Then, like a drop of water into boiling oil, the classroom erupted.
"What the hell?!"
"No way. That was Hadō #4?"
"This has to be some twisted joke. When did the class dunce learn to do that?"
The elite students of the Spiritual Arts Academy were stunned speechless.
Even Onoue Yuta, still reeling from the center of the blast, couldn't speak. Half from shock, half from the head-ringing backlash.
His brain couldn't process it.
Hadn't this Moyu been a nobody—someone who only got into the class through noble connections?
How could he unleash a Hadō this precise and powerful?
Your Hadō #4: Byakurai was displayed impressively. Emotional resonance elevated. Insight deepened. Potential increased.
Moyu exhaled softly, brushing away the remaining white smoke trailing from his fingertips. His face calm, steady.
"Sensei… I did warn you."
The atmosphere shifted. One by one, the murmurs died down.
In that moment, every top-tier student in the room recognized the truth.
With Hadō #4 alone, Moyu had nearly shattered Onoue Yuta's Bakudō #39, Enkōsen.
That feat alone placed him at the top of the entire Special Class.
The student once mocked as a "crane tail"—the slowest in the flock—was no more.
Ahem.
Onoue Yuta clenched his fists and coughed, trying to disguise the utter humiliation on his face.
Not that it mattered.
His skin was still blackened from the blast, and his expression remained stiff.
"I was careless," he admitted. "I didn't expect your Kidō to be so refined, Moyu."
For all his faults, Onoue Yuta was still a teacher brave enough to admit failure.
"Ah, all thanks to my big brother's guidance."
Moyu chuckled and threw the blame toward Byakuya Kuchiki.
The moment the name dropped, the atmosphere in the room shifted again.
Envy. Admiration. Skepticism.
A tangled mess of emotions twisted among the watching crowd.
But Onion Shirai stood frozen, eyes wide, stunned.
"Wait a second…"
"Brother Moyu… never once accepted guidance from Brother Byakuya."
Just as she was about to speak up, Moyu—who was calmly basking in the center of everyone's stunned gaze—suddenly turned and glared at her.
It was as if he had predicted what she was about to say.
His eyes were sharp and full of warning.
If Rukia Kuchiki dared to speak, he looked ready to kill her on the spot.
Ahem.
Rukia coughed twice and swallowed her words, muttering under her breath:
"Alright, alright. I won't say anything…"
"No need to get so scary about it…"
Their exchange went unnoticed, lost beneath the collective awe filling the room.
Everyone was still mentally replaying the moment Moyu destroyed the target and overpowered his teacher's defense.
The rest of the Kidō class ended in distracted silence.
Yuta Onoue left early, clearly still shaken.
His expression carried the weight of a man defeated by something he couldn't explain.
Moyu walked out without looking back.
But just before he stepped through the door, he glanced over his shoulder.
And locked eyes with Rukia Kuchiki—giving her a subtle, unmistakable signal.
Rukia hesitated… then stood and followed.
They moved through quiet corridors, turning corner after corner until the surrounding halls grew quiet and remote.
"…Brother Moyu…"
Before she could finish her thought, a flash of white blurred her vision.
Thud!
Moyu's palm pinned her sharply against the wall.
The sudden closeness of his handsome face made Rukia panic, her cheeks flaring red. Heat rose from her skin like visible steam.
"Mo-Moyu, you…"