The ground split with a thunderclap. Roots tore free as something titanic uncoiled beneath the soil—a serpent as vast as a house burst upward, obsidian scales dripping with muck, golden slit eyes burning with murder. Its body wrapped trunks and splintered them like twigs.
The air trembled again.
From the north treeline, a roar rolled through the forest. Birds erupted into the sky. A forty-foot black bear lumbered into view, fur matted with moss and scars, fangs glowing with a pale aura—each casual swipe shaved bark from trees, leaving humming trails in the air.
Silence held for one heartbeat.
Then the chaos erupted.
The serpent struck first—jaws snapping where Reggie had stood a blink ago. He rolled aside, fists detonating in the beast's face to blind it. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
Kai smashed two spiders aside with Sun and kept his eyes on the monsters. "We don't have time for this!"
The bear's roar hit like a pressure-made sound. Bonnie's violet barrier shattered; she dropped to a knee, clutching her head, blood threading from one nostril.
Rin yanked Kai back out of the serpent's path. Calm, even here. "Focus. If either one locks on, none of us walks out."
The serpent's body cracked the air as it whipped past. The shockwave crushed roaches underfoot and sent Bonnie skidding through the mud.
Reggie poured flame into the serpent's face, columns of fire painting the canopy. The beast only hissed louder; its scales glowed but did not give.
The bear charged. Claws carved trenches through wet earth. It snatched three spiders mid-air and shredded them before they hit the ground, then slammed a paw that made the forest quake.
Kai staggered, planted his staff. Fear and excitement spiked in his chest. "This isn't a fight anymore. It's a war."
Rin's Viatra flickered—razor crimson. He mapped the field in a breath: serpent, bear, enemies, swarm. "We adapt. Or we die."
The serpent lunged for Bonnie. Kai slid in, Sun's arc glancing her out of the bite zone by inches. She coughed, dazed—somewhere between hate and thanks in her glare.
The bear reared, its shadow swallowing the field. Aura-fangs gleamed like drawn swords. When it dropped, the ground tore.
Reggie's teeth bared. Fire coated both arms. "Fine. Let's see whose burn wins."
Kai's grip tightened on Sun. The memory of Aria's electric heat still lived in his bones. Lila's voice, earlier and steady, echoed: Teamwork. It's the only way.
He met Rin's eyes—one nod.
The serpent hissed.
The bear roared.
And both teams understood in the same breath—they weren't fighting rivals anymore.
They were fighting to exist.
The serpent coiled and smashed through the trees, closing in. The bear's roar rattled ribs, aura fangs bright as steel. Bonnie slumped against a stump, psychic static leaking from her like heat—conscious but barely. Reggie stepped in front of her, flame rising. "We don't outrun this! Burn it down or die!"
Rin stepped forward, quiet. Tetsuba glinted—curved steel drinking what little light bled through the canopy. His Viatra flared once, a clean red cut in the world, locking on the serpent's throat.
"Kairo no Kuro," he said, low and clear. "The Black Sword Style."
The forest seemed to listen.
The serpent lunged.
Rin vanished.
Air split like silk, tearing. He reappeared on the serpent's spine—Tetsuba flashed once, twice, thrice—each cut leaving a thin after-image of black light that folded inward a beat later. Blood misted. Trees toppled under the beast's thrash.
Kai's eyes widened. Not just fast—like the world bends for him.
Reggie swore, then hurled explosions into the fresh wounds. "Kid moves like smoke. Fine—keep it open!"
The serpent whipped to crush him. Rin was already gone—a blur of shadow and steel.
Kairo Style, First Form: Phantom Break.
One rising cut so fast it pulled the air behind it. Scales parted like parchment; a long gash split the belly.
The serpent shrieked, rearing.
The bear chose that moment to charge.
Earth shattered under each step. Its slash could have halved a house.
Kai stepped in. "I'll hold—"
Rin was already there.
Kairo Style, Second Form: Shadow Bind.
He dragged Tetsuba in a clean arc along the ground. A jet-black line flared, then erupted into phantom chains. The bear's paw slammed down and stuck—only an instant, but enough for Reggie to pour a furnace into its chest.
Light swallowed the clearing. Smoke boiled. Bugs screeched. The serpent flailed.
Bonnie's voice rasped from the ground. "That... style... isn't human."
Kai didn't answer. He watched.
Rin walked in, Viatra's eyes burning dull red behind them. He raised the blade; black aura climbed the edge like oil catching flame.
Kairo Style, Third Form: Phantom Severance.
He vanished into smoke, reappeared over the serpent's eye—one precise, merciless cut. The beast reeled, half its face sheared open.
It plowed through trees in agony, slowed, bleeding hard.
The bear staggered, chest charred black—and roared louder, aura surging like a storm.
Rin landed lightly. Sword low at his side. "One down." He glanced at the bear. "One to go."
For the first time, Kai felt the weight of him—cold, thin, like a blade at the throat pressed across the entire field. Even the beasts hesitated.
Rin exhaled and turned.
Across the clearing, the bear was already on Kai.
Fangs flashed. Claws fell. Sun spun—tight arcs, perfect angles—redirecting force, trimming just enough from each blow to live through the next. Still, the thing should have crushed him by now.
Reggie, behind them, blinked through the smoke. "How's he—?"
Bonnie, half-conscious, forced her gaze to focus.
Kai slid under a claw, pivoted with Hanuman Step, and cracked Sun into the bear's jaw. Stone met stone. The giant reeled—surprised more than hurt.
Kai straightened for half a breath. Veins lit beneath his skin as if fire had replaced blood. A yellow-gold aura enveloped his arms and shoulders, growing brighter with each inhale.
Rin's grip tightened. He'd seen enough to name it. "So he wasn't bluffing," he murmured. "He's carrying more than discipline."
The bear's roar shook the clearing. Kai's smile was small and almost eager. Sparks crawled brighter over him. He leaned forward—ready to break something inside himself.
Reggie took a step back without meaning to. Flames dimmed. "No way. He's about to—"
Even the swarm stilled. The serpent's cries faded. The forest held its breath.
Kai moved.
The bear thundered in, ground caving. Aura-claws ripped trees to ribbons. Kai planted the staff, vaulted a swing, spun Hanuman Step into the temple—stagger—then the next strike came faster. A fang grazed, tearing cloth, biting skin. He skidded, boots digging trenches. Breath harsh—but eyes sharp.
Rin didn't interfere. He felt it: not breaking, but climbing. "So this is what you've been hiding."
The bear reared, aura pouring from its fangs. It slammed down.
Kai braced. Veins lit like channels of fire. Aura flared yellow-gold. Pressure hummed in the air.
The claws hit—
And stopped.
His aura bloomed raw from the core, a shockwave that buckled trees and kicked dust into the canopy. His hair lifted. Heat rolled off his skin in sheets of light.
Spirit Bloom—awake at last.
Reggie stared. "That's no backwater monk. That's a real transformation."
Bonnie shivered as the pressure washed over her. "His aura's... alive."
Rin's Viatra flickered, tracing the shape of the bloom. He clenched his jaw. "I knew he wasn't weak. But this... changes things."
Kai stepped in, Sun spinning once, then slid it across his back into place. The heat along his skin condensed—tighter, louder—until every movement carried thunder.
His voice was steady. "Let's see if you can keep up."
The bear lunged.
Kai's stance dropped—low, centered. "Alright. My hands will finish this."
He blurred—Hanuman Step—and his palm hammered ribs, echoing like a drum. An elbow snapped the jaw up. He twisted mid-step, knee spearing the gut, rolled low, and rose into a palm across the face.
Flow, not flurry. Each strike set the next. Veins lit bright yellow. The glow deepened to a furnace.
The bear staggered, spittle flying, claws carving trenches in panic. Kai didn't stop. He pressed—palms raining in a rising cadence—until he planted, pivoted, and drove both hands into its chest.
The ground shook.
The giant froze. Eyes rolled. Then forty feet of muscle and aura toppled in a crash that rattled the forest.
Silence.
Rin's knuckles whitened on Tetsuba. His voice was barely a thought. "I knew he wasn't weak."
Reggie exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for a lifetime. "That wasn't luck."
Bonnie said nothing—just stared with calculation.
Kai stood over the fallen beast, chest heaving, sparks still chasing his veins. A tired grin tugged at his mouth. "Yeah... that's what a real fight feels like."
He looked past the bear—into the trees where the scroll-thief's trail cut on. The forest, for the first time in minutes, seemed to listen instead of scream.
Rin sheathed Tetsuba with a clean click.
The forest held its breath. The ground was still shivering from the fallen bear, but every eye was fixed on Rin and Reggie.
Reggie staggered upright, sweat running down his jaw. His aura guttered—flame weak and broken—but his grin only widened. He yanked a battered dagger from his belt, no longer than a forearm, its edge dulled by use.
Bonnie's voice cracked. "Reggie... don't."
He didn't hear her. Fire surged down both arms, veins lighting crimson. He forced his Muti into the steel, every ounce of will driven into the blade. The weapon screamed. Heat warped the air. Sparks burst—
—and the dagger bloomed into a living sword of fire.
Metal twisted and reformed, edges glowing molten. Serrated tongues of flame curled and snapped, a jagged Flamberge roaring in his grip. Heat distorted his face.
Kai blinked, stunned. "He turned a dagger into... that?"
Bonnie gasped, voice trembling. "He's burning himself alive to do it..."
Reggie lifted the blade and roared. "Flamberge! You're not carving me up that easy, Black Clan!"
He swept it wide; arcs of flame scythed through loam. Trees ignited. Smoke rolled.
Rin didn't flinch. He lowered Tetsuba. Black steel hummed with a faint phantom sheen. His stance sharpened—cold, clean, final.
"Kairo Style, First Form: Phantom Break."
He vanished. Tetsuba flashed silver-black through smoke. Reggie caught it by instinct, fireblade intercepting mid-swing. The clash threw a furnace of embers across the trees.
Reggie bared his teeth, pushing back. "Not so untouchable now!"
Rin's eyes narrowed. "You're slower than your own flame."
"Kairo Style, Second Form: Shadow Bind."
A low spin. The cut traced a black seam along the ground—phantom chains reared up and snapped. Reggie tore free with a howl, but his coat split open where Rin passed; in the same heartbeat, Reggie's Flamberge kissed Rin's shoulder. Blood hissed on fire.
Kai's chest tightened. They'll kill each other at this pace...
Reggie pressed, whipping fiery crescents in wide arcs, scorching stone and soil. "I'll drag you down with me!"
Rin's breath shortened; his aura deepened, tight and lethal.
"Kairo Style, Third Form: Phantom Severance."
Three Rin split from one—afterimages attacking from different angles. Reggie spun wild, fire detonating in every direction. One strike he parried; two carved lines across ribs and thigh. He dropped to a knee, breath ragged.
Bonnie crawled, hands shaking. "Stop! You've proved enough!"
Reggie's aura raged higher. Veins glowed like molten cracks. He forced himself up, the Flamberge screaming as if alive. "I won't die a background— I'll write my name into this forest!"
Rin's Viatra flickered—red, pitiless. "Then it ends now."
He raised Tetsuba, the blade drinking the firelight.
"Kairo Style, Fourth Form: Phantom Severance."
The strike cut through the smoke like silence itself. A single clean arc. The air split.
Reggie froze. The Flamberge stuttered—then shattered into ash. His aura winked out. Knees hit dirt.
He collapsed, chest heaving, barely conscious.
Rin stood over him, blood soaking one sleeve, breath steadying—eyes unbroken. He sheathed Tetsuba with a sharp click.
Kai exhaled, dazed. "He... actually—"
Bonnie reached Reggie, voice breaking. "Idiot... you pushed too far." She looked up at Kai, tears bright in her eyes. "Thank you for earlier. Please... don't let them finish him."
Rin turned away, voice flat but edged with respect. "He earned his survival. Barely."
The flames dwindled. The wounded forest groaned.
—For now, the fight was over.
Reggie's hand trembled around the scroll. No fire left. Aura flickers. Pride is the only thing holding his spine straight.
Rin stepped in. The Viatra's glow hardened the air. The forest seemed to brace.
Tetsuba moved once—clean, precise. The scroll slipped free before Reggie understood it was gone. Rin let the blade rest along his shoulder, unfurling the parchment with his other hand.
Reggie didn't breathe.
Rin's gaze cut through him, heavier than steel. His voice was low, sharpened to pierce bone. "If we cross paths again and you aim for my squad... next time I won't just take your scroll." He leaned close; red light rimmed his eyes. "I'll kill you."
Reggie's jaw clenched. Pride searched for words. His body knew better.
Bonnie hooked his arm over her shoulder, defiant, even shaking. "You made your point. We'll live. That's enough."
Rin slid the scroll into his cloak and turned.
Kai watched them fade into the Black Forest's dark. Bonnie glanced back once—gratitude flickering in her eyes for the save, and maybe for the mercy.
Rin didn't look back. His aura stayed cold; his hand motioned Kai onward.
The scroll was theirs.
Rin set the pace, the scroll tucked against his ribs, sword riding his shoulder. His usual quiet stride felt heavier, each step crunching damp underbrush. The Viatra's glow had dimmed, but his eyes stayed hard, tracking the shadows.
Kai followed, staff across his shoulders. His breath had settled, but his body still ran hot—the afterburn of a first bloom humming low.
After a long stretch, Kai said, "You sure you know where we're going?"
Rin didn't answer at once. Crooked trees. Twisted roots. Ground-mist coiling low. Everything... off.
"No," he said, flat. "This isn't the path I thought it was."
"So... we're lost?"
His jaw worked. He hated the word. "Feels like the forest is shifting. And the beasts... bigger the deeper we go." He pushed a low branch aside, eyes narrowing. "If that's true, we're walking toward the center."
Kai peered up into the drowned canopy. The idea didn't scare him. It sharpened him. "The center, huh? Maybe that's where the real test is."
Rin's side-eye was as cold as dry steel. "Or where we die."
Kai rolled his shoulders like loosening for a spar. "Guess we'll find out."
They pushed deeper. Trees closed in. Their aura stirred the mist into slow, coiling shapes.
Back at the altar, Lila knelt beside Aria. The storm inside Aria had quieted; the cost hadn't. She was pale, trembling with exhaustion.
Lila pressed both hands to the burns. Water rose like liquid silk, wrapping arms and ribs in glowing streams. Every time she healed, it felt like tugging threads of her own spirit into someone else. She didn't hesitate.
"You really overdid it," Lila murmured, brow furrowing. "You can't just throw lightning like you're frying the whole forest."
Aria's smile was thin, eyes half-lidded. "I won, didn't I?"
"You almost died winning," Lila shot back, sharper than her usual light tone. "You need me babysitting already?"
A beat. The edge softened. She poured more water into the wounds; the glow knit torn flesh, steadied breath. "Don't scare me like that. Not again."
The Black Forest didn't rest. The altar stones hummed like something breathing. Distant beast-cries rolled the fog. The mist curled tighter, as if listening.
Lila swallowed and fed more aura into the water. Her mother's voice lived in her hands: Healing isn't power. It's heart. Right now, she needed both.
She glanced toward the dark where Kai and Rin had vanished. "You guys better not get lost out there..."
Her palms brightened. "We'll hold this spot. —hurry back."