Imperial Palace - Gathering Hall
August 1, 2021 - Sunday - 3:30 P.M.
Third POV
A heavy silence pressed over the Gathering Hall, a silence built from fear, fury, and the weight of long-buried memories. Dust drifted from the ruined arches above as the ancient hall trembled under the presence of overwhelming power. On one side stood Riku, clad in the roaring aura of his Balance Breaker, the silver-white armor shining like a beacon against the spreading darkness. At his flanks were Aichi, Rongrong, Kuroka, Byakuren, Yorihime, and Kasen-six very different warriors bound by a single purpose.
Opposite them stood the man who had shaped Riku's past through blood and tragedy: Nagae Kouya. The traitor. The killer. The one who tore apart two families and shattered the peace of their childhoods. Now, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ephidel, one of Nergal's twisted servants, exuding a cold, malicious confidence. Behind them, the hall filled with movement-hundreds of rogue youkai snarling with murderous anticipation, and two hundred morphs shifting and warping like living shadows eager to taste blood.
Rongrong scanned the surrounding space, searching for any opening-any corner where she could chant in peace. Her eyes narrowed. High above them, several drones hovered, their lenses gleaming under the fractured sunlight filtering through the ceiling.
"Guys, there are drones flying around us," she called out.
Riku and the others looked up. Sure enough, the machines were recording everything-his Balance Breaker, their formation, the sheer scale of the threat.
Kuroka let out a small, dry laugh. "Well now... looks like the whole damn world's getting a front-row seat to your Balance Breaker, Riku."
Riku exhaled slowly, though the distortion of his helmet turned it into a metallic growl. "Let them watch. Right now, the only thing that matters is wiping out these morphs before they overwhelm us." His gaze cut toward Aichi and Yorihime. "Aichi, Yori-nee-you two handle the rogue youkai. Byakuren-sama, Kasen-san-you're with me against the morphs. I already tested them back during the Scarlet Devil Mansion attack. They're weak to Haki."
That single line shifted the atmosphere. Kasen's lips curled into a grin, and Byakuren's eyes sharpened with the excitement of a martial artist given a clear advantage. Even Aichi and Yorihime straightened, confidence flaring as they envisioned their swords coated in Armament, slicing straight through their opponents.
"Well then," Rongrong said gently, floating forward as her Spirit Rings emerged like ripples of pure light-two violet, four black. The Nine Glazed Tile Pagoda rose beside her, casting a soft radiance. "Before anyone charges in... allow me to give you all what you'll need."
All six rings glowed at once, and the light of the Pagoda blossomed into a burst of brilliant color. A wave of immense spiritual force slammed outward, wrapping around Riku and the others like a warm, empowering mantle. Their muscles tightened with raw vitality. Their elemental power surged like a rising storm. Their senses sharpened, focused, alive.
The others stared at Rongrong as she smiled-calm, confident, completely in control.
"There. Attack, defense, agility, Spirit Power, elemental amplification... everything I can give, I gave. Now go. Fight like hell-and win."
Kuroka stepped up beside her, golden eyes narrowing as her tails unfurled and Senjutsu built around her like a low rumble. "I've got her. A supporter has no business on the front line, so I'll hold down the rear and cut off anything that gets close."
Riku nodded. Even with his helmet obscuring his expression, the warmth in his voice couldn't be missed. "Keep her safe, Kuroka. And keep yourself safe too."
Kuroka blinked-just once-but the tiny flicker of emotion didn't escape Rongrong or Byakuren.
"Riku is correct, Kuroka-kun," Byakuren added, taking her stance with practiced precision. "Now, everyone-move!"
Kasen cracked her knuckles, smirk widening. "Finally! I've been itching for a real fight."
Aichi unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion, its edge gleaming with rising Armament. "Riku, leave the youkai to us. Tenshi... I won't let your death be repeated."
"Then let's get to it," Yorihime said, eyes cold and resolute.
The battlefield erupted.
Riku's wings ignited like twin rocket thrusters, the jets of silver-blue power blasting outward as he hurled himself into the fray. The moment he hit the front line, the entire floor shook. He swung his massive cannon like an executioner wielding a battering ram, plowing straight through the cluster of morphs ahead of him. They scattered like bowling pins struck by a furious god, bodies tumbling end-over-end before skidding across the cracked marble.
Before the dust could settle, Riku landed hard enough to send a web of fractures through the floor. His cannonarm shifted into firing mode, and he immediately aimed at a morph scrambling to its feet.
BOOM.
The cannonball tore across the hall like a metal comet. The impact blasted the morph straight into the wall, embedding it into the stone as a jagged crater erupted behind it. A second later, the creature's body crumbled into dust, falling like ash.
Riku didn't pause. Another morph lunged from behind, claws bared. He didn't even turn his head. He simply swung the cannon upward like an oversized steel log, slamming it down against the morph's skull. The creature crashed into the floor-only to find the barrel of Riku's cannon pressing directly into its torso.
"Stay down."
He pulled the trigger.
A point-blank explosion lit the hall with violent light. When it cleared, a second crater had formed, and nothing remained of the morph except scattered fragments disintegrating into dust.
Two more morphs rushed him from the left, screeching in unison. Riku instantly conjured a grenade, flicking it casually with his thumb like he was tossing a pebble into a pond.
The grenade detonated mid-air.
Frost burst out in every direction, encasing the morphs in glacial ice. Riku dashed forward and swung the cannon in a wide arc. The frozen morphs shattered instantly, the fragments sparkling like broken glass before dissolving.
[Looks like you don't need to use any Spirit Skills or any of the Heavenly Dividing's abilities, partner.] Albion's voice rumbled with amused pride.
Riku scoffed, stepping aside as another morph lunged. He smashed it with a quick backhand swing, sending it flying. "I'm saving my cards. Just swinging this thing is plenty. Besides, I'm coating the cannon with Armament so it doesn't get dented."
[You really are way too cautious about your gear.] Albion teased.
"Less talking, more dividing," Riku shot back dryly.
Even as he fought, Albion worked in secret. Every time a morph got close enough, the divine dragon split away fragments of its power, weakening the creature while boosting Riku's own output. A quiet partnership-one born in battle and honed in life-or-death moments.
Riku took a moment to glance at the rest of the battlefield.
Byakuren and Kasen fought side by side, their teamwork as fluid as the flow of a river. When a morph tried to flank Byakuren, Kasen intercepted it instantly; when one tried to overwhelm Kasen with brute force, Byakuren stepped in without hesitation.
Byakuren moved like flowing silk. Her style was gentle yet crushing, a serene storm of palm strikes infused with Senjutsu. She allowed the morphs to come to her, exploiting their momentum. A morph swung at her-she caught its wrist, redirected the force, and placed a single palm against its chest. A soft push, almost tender.
The morph was blasted backward as if hit by a cannon.
Another leapt from above. Byakuren shifted into a low stance, delivered a flurry-five, six, seven rapid-fire palm strikes-each blow cracking with Senjutsu, and ended with a final thrust that sent the creature tumbling across the hall.
Kasen, meanwhile, drew an invisible circle around herself and had yet to step outside it. Her movements were minimal, economical, completely controlled. A morph charged; she pivoted, grabbed its arm, and hurled it like a sack of rice. A second rushed her at the same instant-Kasen lifted her leg in a reverse bicycle kick, catching it under the jaw. The morph flew backward and collided with the first one mid-air.
Both crumpled to the ground.
Kasen exhaled calmly, feet still inside her self-imposed circle.
Aichi and Yorihime carved their own storm across the battlefield. Trails of fire and wind swirled around them as they moved-two figures dancing amidst chaos, each step sharp and precise.
Aichi inhaled deeply. His body tensed like a drawn bow.
"Breath of Flames - Eleventh Form: Flame Waltz!"
He burst into motion, the Sword of Hisou blazing with fiery energy. Every step left a swirling ember on the ground. He moved like a dancer-elegant, untouchable, lethal. The fire trailed behind him in arcs of incandescent red as he slashed through youkai, each cut slicing through necks cleanly.
Yorihime watched him with a small, confident smile. "If you're going to do that, then so do I."
She sheathed her sword. Her breathing slowed. Her form shifted into something cold... distant... perfect.
"Time to test what I practiced a month ago."
She inhaled a good amount of oxygen as shadows pooled at her feet. The air itself dimmed around her.
"Breath of Darkness - First Form: Darkness Sever."
Yorihime vanished.
For an instant, absolute darkness swallowed a section of the hall. When the shadows receded, Yorihime stood on the other side, blade drawn.
Behind her, ten youkai collapsed simultaneously, heads rolling clean from their bodies.
"Well," she said with a triumphant smile, resting her blade on her shoulder, "that worked out nicely."
At the rear lines, Kuroka maintained a defensive perimeter, her tails swaying rhythmically as she fired wave after wave of Youjutsu. Her golden eyes scanned every angle, never letting a single enemy slip past. Every time a morph or rogue youkai tried to approach Rongrong, Kuroka shredded it with a swipe of her claws or blasted it with concentrated Senjutsu.
Rongrong stood behind her, the Nine Glazed Tile Pagoda glowing steadily, continuously feeding buffs to every ally on the field. She fired bolts from the hidden crossbow given to her by Tang San-small, fast projectiles that weren't meant to kill but to interrupt, misdirect, or stagger enemies so the frontliners could strike decisively.
It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't meant to be. But every bolt made a difference.
High above, drones recorded everything-the spells, the bloodshed, the chaos, the supernatural abilities that until now had remained hidden behind centuries of secrecy. The world was watching the battlefield of the century unfold live. Governments, academies, clans, churches-every group with ties to the supernatural would soon see what true monsters, and true heroes, looked like.
Riku ground another morph into the floor and fired a shot downward, leaving a fresh crater.
He exhaled, electricity crackling across his armor.
"All teams are holding," he muttered, taking in the battlefield. "Good."
Imperial Palace - Hallway
Chaos thundered along the marble corridor as Yukari's group held their line. Youmu, Yuugi, and Suika stood at the front, forming a living wall between the civilians and the wave of rogue youkai. Every few seconds, another shriek tore through the hallway as steel and oni strength clashed against claw and corrupted flesh.
Yuugi and Suika-true oni through and through-bulldozed through most of the attackers with brutal efficiency. Yuugi barreled forward and shoulder-checked a hulking youkai so hard its skull caved in. Suika, small but monstrous in strength, swung her gourd like a hammer and sent bodies flying in all directions. Shou helped with the beating as her martial art prowess helped them speed things up.
Youmu stayed close to Rinko, Eli, Miyu, and the others who couldn't fight, her blade flashing in arcs of silver. She cut down anything that slipped through the oni's rampage, her steps calm and clean despite the panic around them. Sweat dripped down her cheek, but her gaze never wavered-she refused to let a single threat near her charges.
Reimu, normally the reckless one charging headfirst into danger, stood behind them with clenched fists and a scowl sharp enough to cut steel.
"Tch... damn anti-magic field." Reimu growled. "I can't even throw a single ofuda!"
"Damn it. These youkai are getting relentless ze." Marisa snapped as she gripped her broom like she wanted to snap it in half. Deprived of magic, she felt half naked on the battlefield.
"If this keeps up, we'll be overwhelmed." Satori said quietly, her arms trembling as she steadied herself. "And I'm getting worried for Koishi... I still can't feel where she is."
"Orin is keeping an eye on Koishi-sama, Satori-sama." Utsuho reassured her before driving a kick into an oncoming youkai, sending it crashing into a pillar.
Okina glanced sideways. "You're being rather calm, Eirin. That's unusual."
Eirin, cool as ever, tapped her fingers against her wristwatch. "They'll be here in three... two... one."
Right on cue, the hallway exploded with the sound of gunfire.
A hail of radiant bullets rained down from above like a divine storm. The youkai advancing toward them froze mid-attack-then their bodies tore apart in synchronized, brutal precision. Dust and blood mist scattered into the air as the horde crumpled.
Everyone turned.
Hovering in mid-air was a young woman with long violet hair drifting like silk, crimson eyes gleaming with soldier's focus. Rabbit ears twitched atop her head, and she wore a black sleek jacket with formal, military-like tailoring paired with a short skirt beneath. Her legs were wrapped in tight black stockings, her boots shining like polished steel.
But it was the weapon that stole everyone's breath-a rifle shaped like a spiraling horn, almost organic in design. And behind her, two metallic sonar-like panels floated like wings.
"Inaba Udongein Reisen reporting! I came as soon as I received the signal, sensei!"
Her voice boomed across the hall.
"Udongein." Eirin stepped forward, tone shifting into that of a general addressing her trusted lieutenant. "You've called the rest?"
"Yes!" Reisen nodded sharply. "They'll arrive any moment. Youmu-san! Reimu-san! Marisa-san! Your units are coming too-so stay sharp!"
"Units?" Marisa echoed, baffled. "What the heck does that mean, ze?"
Emperor Naruhito himself-standing behind Yukari and Yuyuko-raised a brow. "Eirin, what exactly is your disciple referring to?"
Eirin folded her hands behind her back as if giving a lecture. "The suits Udongein and the others wear are part of the Lunarian Armament Project. A decade-long collaboration between Lunarian science and Earth technology. Designed to allow combat without the use of magic."
The press, huddled behind protective barriers, collectively gasped. Their drones zoomed closer, recording every detail.
"And today," Eirin continued, "seems like the perfect moment for public demonstration."
At that exact moment, two more figures blurred into view, landing gracefully at Reisen's flank.
The first was Izayoi Sakuya.
Her outfit looked like a maid uniform re-imagined through futuristic warfare-metallic textures woven through gray layers, glowing cyan circuitry running along her sleeves. Mechanical joints lined her shoulders. A sleek, digitized headband sat atop her hair, casting holographic triangles around her.
Multiple floating knives hovered in orbit behind her, glowing cyan like tiny satellites. Two enormous blade-shields floated behind her like mechanical angel wings.
She glided forward with the same grace she always carried, even in this war-ready form.
"We're here as Inaba-sama requested." Sakuya bowed. Without pausing, she snapped her fingers-one of her glowing knives shot forward and pinned a youkai to the wall through its skull.
The second newcomer, Kochiya Sanae, landed with far more energy.
She wore a white dress reworked into a tactical suit, armored at the chest and hips with black plating. Blue goggles sat on her head, matching the electric glow pulsing through her arm cannon. Her left arm bristled with divine circuitry, shaped like a high-tech shrine maiden's cannon.
"I came to help my little brother!" Sanae beamed brightly. "Because that's what big sisters do!"
Okina nodded approvingly. "So this is the rest of the Lunarian Armament line?"
"Yes." Eirin nodded. "Sakuya wears the Lunar War Servant. Sanae wears the Lunar War Oracle. Both designs were tailored to their combat preferences."
Sakuya inspected one of her holographic knives lovingly. "This fits perfectly. And these knives... exquisite. They cut cleaner than anything I've ever used."
"The Cannon Pillar is so cool!" Sanae chirped. "I based it on Kanako-sama and Suwako-sama! Kanako-sama helped build the divine frames, and Suwako-sama enchanted them! So even far from the shrine, they're still with me!"
Her smile alone calmed the trembling crowd behind the barrier. Even the civilians hiding behind Rinko peeked out with relief.
And then-
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
Three massive black crates landed in front of Reimu, Marisa, and Youmu, each as tall as Yuugi.
Eirin's tone sharpened. "These are yours: the Lunar War Shaman for Reimu. The Lunar War Enchanter for Marisa. And the Lunar War Gardener for Youmu."
Reimu stared at the crate as if Christmas had just come early and violently. "This... this is mine?"
Marisa placed both hands on her hips, stars practically shining in her eyes. "Heheh... now this is more like it, ze."
Youmu swallowed softly, brushing her fingers against the crate's cool surface. She felt something hum-something that recognized her spirit, her discipline.
Sakuya stepped ahead, knives orbiting slowly. "We will protect you while you suit up."
Reisen cocked her rifle and slid into a floating stance. "But don't take too long. The next wave is already coming."
The ground shook as a cluster of youkai stampeded around the far corner.
Suika grinned savagely. "Well then, guess we're up first!"
Yuugi slammed her fist into her palm. "Bring it on!"
Reisen fired the first shot, a spiraling bolt of lunar energy shredding three youkai at once. Sakuya's knives followed, cutting down the next rank with flawless precision. Sanae lifted her cannon arm, the glyphs along its surface glowing like a shrine gate brought to life.
"Divine Cannon: Frog-Leg Pulse!" she shouted playfully.
The shot blasted forward, crackling with the blessing of Suwako. It tore through the charging youkai like paper, leaving a long smoking path across the floor.
Behind them, Reimu pried open her crate. Steam rolled out, followed by the gleam of polished armor and circuitry.
"Well," Reimu said, cracking her knuckles with a dangerous smile, "time to see what all the fuss is about."
Marisa yanked open her crate and immediately whistled. "Oho... now this is a witch's dream, ze."
Youmu, gentle yet resolute, lifted the helmet nestled inside her own crate. "I'll do my best," she whispered to herself.
Outside, the hallway became a battlefield lit in neon blue, crimson muzzle flashes, and glowing knife trails. Reisen danced through the air, her sonar wings shifting like radar fins. Sakuya dominated the ground with mechanized elegance, slicing through the chaos like time itself bent to her will. Sanae fired divine blasts that shredded entire clusters of enemies.
And through it all, Youmu, Reimu, and Marisa prepared for the next stage.
Then a youkai tried to sneak attack on the three girls, then they heard a gunshot from behind as the youkai was shot in the head clean.
The girls looked at the direction and it was none other than Tina.
"Tina-chan! You're okay!" Rinko said as she and Miyu rushed to her side.
"I'm fine, onee-san. The preparations and calibrations just took a while. And since I can't use magic here, I have to adjust a few of my bullets." Tina said sheepishly as smoke was still coming out of her sniper rifle's barrel.
"And by the way, additional help has arrived." To Tina's words, a blur of black and dark blue flashed as it tore through several youkai. When the two figures emerged, Reimu saw red as she rushed towards them, ditching her Lunarian armor.
"You!" Reimu shouted as she held her gohei tight.
"We meet again, Hakurei Shrine Maiden." The man with dark crimson hair said.
"Jaffar? The Angel of Death? Why is he here?" Marisa said as she was surprised to see her attacker came to their rescue.
"Simple, we came here because Yukari ordered us to." The man with dark lavender hair said with a carefree tone.
"And salutations to you all. My name is Legault, known as the Hurricane." Legault introduced himself.
"Yukari, are those two trustworthy enough? Even though you said that they're contracted to you." Satori said as she was still looking around for Koishi's location.
"Don't worry, those two can be trusted. And more than anything, they have a bone to pick with Ephidel." Yukair said in an amusing tone.
"So basically 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' concept?" Okina asked as Yukari answered.
"More or less. And Riku has a good relationship with one of their members, so I think it's fair." Yukari said as Jaffar added something to her words.
"He's Nino's friend. That's more than enough for me to help." Jaffar said as he continued to cut his way through the youkai.
Even with the added reinforcements of two former Black Fang members, the battle wasn't over.
----------
Seven Glazed Treasure Tile Clan Villa - China
Far from the chaos tearing through Japan, the villa of the Seven Glazed Treasure Tile Clan remained quiet-almost eerily so. The courtyard lanterns glowed softly against the stone pathways, koi stirred gently beneath the still surface of the pond, and the banners of the Clan swayed in the calm breeze.
Inside, however, peace shattered.
The six figures seated in the villa's grand viewing hall watched in stiff, unblinking silence as the live broadcast from Japan unfolded across a wall-mounted crystal display. The images were impossible to ignore-flying debris, roars from monstrous youkai, explosions of spiritual light, and in the center of it all... Riku.
The Seven Devils knew combat. They had fought through the harshest years of their childhoods, survived hellish battlefields, charged through Spirit Master tournaments and wars alike. But what they were watching now-this strange, layered chaos of eastern deities, mythical creatures, anti-magic fields, and powers alien to their world-felt like shock made real.
On a lone couch sat Dai Mubai.
Golden hair flowed freely down his back, his broad shoulders relaxed yet radiating a silent, dangerous energy. The twin pupils in each of his deep-blue eyes flickered coldly as he leaned forward, elbows on knees, gaze narrowed at the screen.
His Martial Soul-the Evil King White Tiger-always cast a fierce aura around him. Even now, when he wasn't releasing any spirit power, he looked like a king studying the battlefield of another nation.
Beside him, perched lightly on the armrest, was Zhu Zhuqing.
Her long black hair framed her cold expression perfectly. With her straight posture, steady breath, and eyes sharp as blades, she looked every part the assassin her Hell Spirit Cat Martial Soul represented. Yet beneath that frosty exterior, her fingers curled just slightly.
A subtle tell-worry she would never openly display.
On the longer couch opposite them sprawled Ma Hongjun, though even the cheerful fire-phoenix couldn't muster a joke right now. His normally round, warm features were drawn tight in something that looked suspiciously close to concern. The emerald in his eyes gleamed with reflected explosions as he shifted forward.
Beside him lounged Oscar, his peach-blossom eyes half narrowed, lips pressed tight despite his usual playful smile. The glow of the screen made his pale features seem more severe than usual.
Next was Xiao Wu.
Her legs were folded neatly beneath her, her scorpion-braided hair resting against her hip. The rosy warmth of her face had faded into a tense stillness as she clutched her hands together. She didn't blink-not once-while watching Riku battle monstrous foes she couldn't identify.
And at the far end sat Tang San.
His blue hair, tied back in a low ponytail, shimmered beneath the overhead lights. Calm as he appeared, the subtle tension in his jaw betrayed him. His bright blue eyes tracked every movement on the screen-calculating, analyzing, breaking down each technique and display of power.
The youngest Titled Douluo in the history of their world... or rather, formerly the youngest.
Because the man on the screen had surpassed even him.
As Riku drew the Destroyer and unleashed a devastating attack, the live feed caught the moment a red Spirit Ring appeared.
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Tang San stood. So did the others-every one of them reacting instinctively, eyes widening in disbelief.
"How..." Tang San whispered, voice low. "A Hundred-Thousand-Year Spirit Ring... on a someone without a Martial Soul? That shouldn't be possible."
Ma Hongjun swallowed hard. "That's not just unusual, that's straight-up impossible. Japan... doesn't even have Spirit Beasts nor even a connection to the Spirit Realm"
Dai Mubai crossed his arms, expression darkening. "So how in the world did he obtain a ring of that level? Who-or what-did he fight? Or did he do something we know nothing about?"
Before any of them could form another theory, a calm voice answered from the doorway.
"That's because Riku's Martial Soul is an exception."
Six heads turned sharply.
Standing at the hall's entrance was Ning Fengzhi, head of the Seven Glazed Treasure Tile Clan. His robes were pristine, carrying the clan's signature colors with quiet authority. His smile was gentle, but his eyes carried a weight none of them missed.
Beside him stood a giant of a man-a broad-shouldered, wild-haired figure with sleepy golden eyes and a beard that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in years.
Tang Hao.
Tang San's face brightened almost instantly.
"Dad?"
The Clear Sky Douluo stepped inside with a rare smile. "Fengzhi asked me to accompany him as his guard. With the Sword Douluo away and the Bone Douluo meditating, someone had to fill in." He shrugged, stretching lazily. "Besides, it's been too long since I last relaxed. A day without someone challenging me is almost refreshing."
Tang San's gaze softened. For all his father's power and reputation, it was rare for Tang Hao to have a moment simply to be a father.
Zhu Zhuqing was the first to break the quiet.
"Lord Fengzhi... earlier you said Riku was an exception. What did you mean?" Her eyes shifted briefly toward the screen where Riku's cannon gleamed ominously. "He has no Martial Soul. That much we confirmed."
Fengzhi nodded slowly. "Indeed, Riku was born without a Martial Soul. But the weapon he wields... is an Artificial Martial Soul."
Silence slammed into the room.
Oscar shot to his feet so fast the couch groaned beneath him. "A-what!?"
Ma Hongjun flung his hands into the air. "You can't just make those! That's like-like building a spirit beast out of scrap metal!"
Xiao Wu stared, eyes wide and trembling. "Fatty's right! There's no record of anything like that... not even Spirit Hall has the audacity to create a Martial Soul artificially!"
Even Tang San-calm, analytical, composed-felt his breath catch. "Artificial... Martial Soul." He repeated the words slowly, as if testing whether they truly existed. "This surpasses every principle our world was built upon."
Fengzhi smiled faintly. "It is possible. Because we made it possible."
The room fell silent.
Tang Hao stepped forward, shoulders squared, voice steady and deep as steel. "The Artificial Martial Soul was created by the Three Major Clans. The design blueprint came from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. The internal mechanisms were produced by the Seven Glazed Treasure Tile Clan. And the forging-every strike of hammer and tempering of metal-was done by our Clear Sky Clan."
He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle.
"I personally forged the cannon alongside my older brother, Tang Xiao. And making that thing is much more exhilarating than facing seven Titled Douluo at once."
Even Fengzhi's calm presence couldn't soften the explosion of shock that ripped through the room.
Tang San's pupils trembled. "F-Father... why would you forge something so powerful... for someone outside our borders?"
Before Tang Hao could answer, Fengzhi raised a hand, his expression turning uncharacteristically serious.
"Because it was Rongrong who asked us."
Every head snapped toward him.
Fengzhi continued, voice gentle but firm. "She came to us months ago. She believed Riku was heading toward a future steeped in danger-one he couldn't survive without power of equal magnitude. She asked us to help him. And with the Uncle Sword's support, she convinced the Three Clans to collaborate."
Xiao Wu leaned forward, worried. "Rongrong... she must have offered something huge for that. What did she give in exchange?"
Fengzhi exhaled deeply. "...One billion and five hundred million US dollars."
Six jaws dropped simultaneously.
"ONE POINT FIVE BILLION!?" Ma Hongjun shrieked. "And in DOLLARS!? You expect a 19-year-old to pay that off!?"
Oscar swayed like a man about to faint. "Lord Fengzhi... with all due respect... that's enough money to buy three cities!"
Zhu Zhuqing's brows drew together. "That explains the empty galleries in the villa..." she murmured softly. "Some of her personal paintings-her favorites-are gone."
Xiao Wu nodded slowly. "Rongrong... sold them."
Fengzhi clasped his hands behind his back, face solemn. "She has already paid a large portion. Her paintings are prized across nations. But the rest..." He shook his head. "She insisted on paying it alone. No help from me, no clan resources."
Oscar opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "Lord Fengzhi, isn't that... isn't that too harsh on your own daughter?"
Fengzhi did not flinch. "I told her the same. But Rongrong welcomed the burden. She wanted to prove-to herself more than anyone-that she is worthy to inherit the clan. Worthy to stand beside the man she chose."
Oscar lowered his head. Even if he loved her, even if it stung to know she chose Riku... he respected her resolve. More than anyone, he understood how fierce Rongrong could be when she made up her mind.
With the emotional storm settling, Dai Mubai leaned back, folding his arms. "Alright... that explains the weapon. But what about the Hundred-Thousand-Year Spirit Ring? That still doesn't answer how Riku got that."
Fengzhi adjusted his glasses. His next words shifted the room's atmosphere instantly.
"Before Riku obtained the Artificial Martial Soul... he already possessed another power. Something not born of Spirit Masters."
Tang Hao raised an eyebrow. "Something not from our world?"
"Yes." Fengzhi nodded. "It is called a Sacred Gear."
Xiao Wu tilted her head. "Sacred... Gear? Like divine equipment?"
"Close enough," Fengzhi replied. "According to the information he shared with me, Sacred Gears are gifts from the God of the Bible-tools meant to protect humans against supernatural forces. Very few awaken them, as the ability only emerges when someone experiences a near-death event."
Tang San exchanged troubled looks with his fiancée. "A system of weapons parallel to Martial Souls... carried within the body... that sounds terrifyingly similar."
"It is," Fengzhi agreed. "The one Riku possesses is named Divine Dividing. And it is said that it's one of the Thirteen Longinus-the most powerful Sacred Gears known to exist."
Oscar blinked rapidly. "Longinus? What's a Longinus?"
Fengzhi's voice grew heavy. "A Longinus is a type of Sacred Gear that is capable of killing a god."
A collective gasp swept through the room like a gust of wind.
Even Tang San stiffened.
He wasn't just any Spirit Master-he was the successor to the Sea God. And the thought of someone wielding power capable of killing divinity itself...
It shook him to his core.
Fengzhi pressed on before panic could settle. "However, that is simply the nature of the Sacred Gear. Its wielder determines its true path. And Riku's path is not one of conquest."
Tang Hao nodded approvingly. "That boy fights for his own. Not for power's sake. And I can tell from the way he fights. He's not fighting to kill, he's fighting to protect. Something that some Spirit Masters lack."
Dai Mubai leaned forward. "But what does that have to do with the Spirit Rings?"
Fengzhi answered plainly, "We embedded nine Spirit Rings into the Artificial Martial Soul before delivering it."
Six sets of eyes widened.
Tang San stepped closer. "Embedded? Into the weapon itself?"
"They were dormant, and fresh off from a select Spirit Beasts," Fengzhi explained, "ready to awaken the moment Riku infused his soul into the cannon. We placed four Thousand-Year Rings, and five Ten-Thousand-Year Rings. Our estimate was that-upon awakening-he would reach the peak of Spirit Saint or a Spirit Douluo at most."
Ma Hongjun nodded vigorously. "That's already ridiculous."
Zhu Zhuqing frowned. "Then the estimates were incorrect?"
Fengzhi let out a long, weary breath.
"You're very much right. When he awakened the Destroyer... the rings evolved."
The room went silent.
Fengzhi raised a single finger.
"Four black rings."
He raised another.
"And five red rings."
Even Tang Hao's eyes widened.
A rush of cold went down everyone's spine.
Red Spirit Rings-Hundred-Thousand-Year Rings-were rarities among rarities. Only the strongest had even a chance of obtaining them. For nine rings to evolve into such a monstrous configuration...
Oscar whispered, "How... how is that possible?"
"The Divine Dividing," Fengzhi replied. "Uncle Sword believes Riku's Sacred Gear harmonized with the Artificial Martial Soul during awakening. And the resulting force... pushed every ring beyond its limit."
Tang San gripped his fist. "Then his actual rank..."
Fengzhi closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.
"Uncle Sword estimates Riku reached the equivalent of a Rank 98. "
Xiao Wu gasped.
Ma Hongjun fell backward onto the couch.
Dai Mubai stared at the floor in disbelief.
Oscar's lips parted but no sound escaped.
Zhu Zhuqing-calmest of them all-felt her heart skip.
Tang San's mind raced, comparing this rank with the mightiest of their world. Rank 98 was Sword Douluo. Rank 97 was Tang Hao. Rank 98 was among the pinnacle of human strength aside from Rank 99, which is the Grand Elder of Spirit Hall, Qian Daoliu, his great-grandfather, Tang Chen and the High Priestess of Sea God Island, Bo Saixi.
And Riku... was nineteen.
Fengzhi continued, voice heavy with an emotion none of them expected.
"Thus, Uncle Sword granted him a title. The first Titled Douluo in Japan's history."
Everyone leaned in.
"He shall be known as the White Dragon Douluo."
The words echoed across the hall like a divine proclamation.
And every member of the Seven Devils felt one thing-
The world had just changed.
The living room had fallen into an uneasy quiet, a silence thick enough to feel like it pressed on the chest. Even with the television still showing the live broadcast of the ongoing battle in Japan, no one among the six members of the Shrek Seven Devils could fully focus on it. Their minds were still reeling, spiraling between disbelief, awe, and deepening concern.
Riku... a Rank 98 Titled Douluo.
The number refused to settle neatly in their minds. It defied logic, defied history, defied every natural order they understood.
Tang San steadied his breath, forcing himself to push through the shock. There was one outcome of this revelation he needed to know immediately-one faction whose reaction could decide whether the world plunged into chaos or managed to maintain the fragile balance it stood on.
"Dad," Tang San finally said, voice low but firm. "What does Spirit Hall say about all this? About Riku?"
The others turned toward Tang Hao instantly. Their faces carried the same realization-the same fear. Spirit Hall did not tolerate threats. Nor did they tolerate wild cards. Someone like Riku, someone who had suddenly vaulted to the peak of the Spirit Master world without following any conventional path, would not go unnoticed. And anything that did not go unnoticed by Spirit Hall was either claimed... or crushed.
Tang Hao exhaled long and slowly, as if the answer itself was an unwanted burden. His eyes closed for a brief moment before he finally spoke.
"Spirit Hall released a statement a day after." His tone was heavy, but not grim-just honest. "As long as Riku doesn't strike at Spirit Hall without provocation, they have no intention of acting against him."
Shock and suspicion flickered across the group.
"That sounds... too peaceful," Dai Mubai muttered.
"It isn't the whole story," Tang Hao continued, opening his eyes again. "The Great Elders are insisting that Riku be tested. Evaluated. So he should expect several Titled Douluo to be sent to Japan soon. They want to confirm whether he truly deserves the title he carries."
Everyone stared at him, stunned.
"Test him?" Oscar said, incredulous. "Test him? He's wielding an Artificial Martial Soul and a power that can kill gods! They want to 'test' him like he's taking an entrance exam!?"
Tang Hao shrugged with a helpless sort of dry humor. "Spirit Hall has always been stubborn."
Before more shock could spiral, Fengzhi stepped in, adjusting his glasses as he calmly observed the battlefield displayed on the enormous television. Riku swung the Destroyer Cannon with effortless grace-as if it were nothing more than a metal staff rather than a weapon that would require several elite blacksmiths and high-rank Spirit Masters just to lift.
"Even so," Fengzhi said, "it won't be easy for any Titled Douluo-Spirit Hall or otherwise-to challenge him. You've seen what he's capable of. And keep in mind... the Celestial Families themselves already possess strength rivaling peak Titled Douluo. And not just that, he's also a mage. So his array of spells are much more than us Spirit Masters."
Xiao Wu covered her mouth with both hands as she watched the screen. "He's fighting like it's nothing... and that's without using magic."
Fengzhi nodded. "Even with their limitations right now, they're holding the line."
Oscar leaned forward, hopeful. "Do you think we'll be allowed to help? If things get worse?"
Fengzhi shook his head decisively. "No. Not this time. This war is theirs to fight. All we can do is watch... and pray they finish this cleanly."
Their faces fell, a collective frustration settling over them. Watching their friend fight a literal war-one they could not join-was a helplessness none of them were used to.
But the world was changing. And so were they.
Far across the sea, deep within the reinforced corridors of the Imperial Palace, three figures stepped into the bright, sterile lights of the mobilization chamber. The air here hummed faintly with Lunarian technology-precise, cold, and brilliant. Their Lunar War uniforms gleamed with a subtle sheen, each tailored meticulously for both function and identity.
The transformation from shrine maiden, magician, and half-ghost to elite Lunar-Tech soldiers was complete.
Youmu stood tall, adjusting the high collar of her short white-and-gray tactical jacket. The garment blended tradition and futuristic design-white and gray base colors with black detailing and cool green-teal accents weaving along the fabric. The crescent-like patterns on the sleeves glowed faintly, resonating with Lunarian energy.
Her phantom half drifted behind her in calm silence, now adorned with a sleek black ring that synchronized its movements with her own. A white cape with black trimming draped across her shoulders, flowing lightly as she moved.
Her lower attire was undeniably bold-short skirt, exposed upper thighs, and armored, high-tech knee-high boots glowing with neon green lines. Mobility and elegance melded into one.
But her weapons were the centerpiece.
Two katana-shaped lightsabers, resting at her hips.
Roukanken glowed a dangerous violet.
Hakurouken shimmered a tranquil light blue.
Youmu's eyes softened with genuine admiration as she ran a finger along the polished hilt.
"I always wanted to try using lightsabers," she murmured. "They did excellent work."
Reimu examined her new pair of pistols with a faint smirk-sleek, futuristic weapons that mirrored her signature Yin-Yang lineage. Her uniform was a striking dark red coat with black trim, extending to mid-thigh. Beneath it lay a red tunic bearing a stylized circular emblem reminiscent of the Yin-Yang orb.
Purple belts and black straps wrapped tightly across her torso and arms, reinforcing armor plates without sacrificing her flexibility. Her lower half remained traditionally Reimu-dark bloomers beneath the tunic-but sleek black knee-high boots with glowing cyan lines brought her firmly into the Lunar War aesthetic.
Youkai exterminator, priestess, and now a battlefield specialist.
"This looks better than what I requested initially," Reimu admitted, spinning her pistols once before holstering them with sharp precision.
Then there was Marisa-loud, bright, and undeniably Marisa.
She tugged the brim of her black baseball cap, stars embroidered across it, and beamed proudly. Her blonde hair spilled past her shoulders in messy, charming waves.
Her oversized bomber jacket-black with gold stars, bright orange lining, and a fluffy white fur collar-screamed style and rebellious confidence. Underneath was a bold yellow cropped top with a star dominating the chest.
Her bottom attire was a mix of mobility and flair: loose black shorts with orange trim, compression shorts beneath them, and a belt with attached utility pouch.
Chunky high-top sneakers in black, orange, and yellow grounded her look, pink socks peeking out with unapologetic enthusiasm.
And slung over her shoulder-her new baby.
A massive, star-engraved, futuristic cannon-staff hybrid glowing with golden circuitry.
"Oh yeah~! Just like I requested ze~!" Marisa sang happily, hugging the weapon close.
Eirin approached the three girls, clipboard in hand-calm, efficient, and unreadably composed as always.
"I'm glad the final designs suit your expectations," she said. "But now it's time for deployment."
Reimu and Marisa exchanged matching smirks, the kind that said they'd been waiting for this moment far too long.
"Finally," Reimu said as she cocked both pistols, the metallic click echoing through the room. "Time to work."
"Let's see how much punch this baby packs!" Marisa declared, lifting her oversized cannon with one arm like it weighed nothing.
Youmu straightened her posture, the epitome of discipline.
"You two will take the air with Udongein-san and Sanae-san. Sakuya-san and I will cover the ground."
Reimu nodded. "Understood."
Marisa gave a thumbs-up. "Leave it to us~!"
With Lunarian flight boosters embedded directly into their boots and armor, both Reimu and Marisa launched upward with a burst of light-no magic required. They cut through the ceiling exit hatch, emerging into the crimson-stained skies above the Imperial Palace.
The second wave of youkai had arrived.
And Japan was about to meet its counterattack.
Back on the ground, Youmu exhaled slowly, drawing one of her lightsabers. The violet blade hissed to life, casting a sharp glow across her determined eyes.
Her gaze lifted toward the expanding mass of youkai charging through the palace gardens, their screeches shaking the air.
"You're not getting past me," she whispered.
Then she dashed forward-half-ghost, swordswoman, guardian of the palace-and met the enemy head-on.
----------
Imperial Palace - Gathering Hall
The Gathering Hall had become a battlefield of shattered stone, drifting dust, and clashing wills. What had once been a solemn chamber now echoed with the thunderous strikes of power and steel. Half of the enemy force-hundreds of rogue youkai and morphs-lay defeated. The remaining half stood shaken, reduced to a desperate, scrambling mass.
Ephidel and Kouya, standing at the far end of the hall behind a screen of surviving morphs, stared in disbelief.
"What... what is this?" Kouya hissed, voice shaking with fury and fear. "We had no information-none! Riku shouldn't have access to this power!"
His fists trembled. He knew Riku's magic reserves were supposed to be crippled forever. He had hired the assassins himself. He had ensured Riku's magic would never recover. Yet here the boy stood-transformed, empowered, unstoppable.
Ephidel's expression, however, remained cool as ever. "It appears," he said mildly, "that the young heir had an ace in the hole none of us knew about."
Then his eyes narrowed. "Regardless... it's time to proceed to phase two."
With a single snap of his fingers, the battlefield changed.
Every morph froze at once-as though time itself had hiccupped. Riku and the others paused mid-movement, instincts raised. A ripple of dense black mana tore open another portal behind Kouya and Ephidel, and from it stepped a lone figure cloaked identically to the other morphs... except this one kept its hood up, its presence radiating a pressure even the veterans felt.
"What now?" Aichi muttered, slicing down a lunging youkai while keeping his eyes on the portal.
"I'm more curious about who that is," Byakuren said calmly, tilting her head.
Before Riku could finish voicing his suspicion, a sudden flash overwhelmed his vision-a sharp, abrupt premonition. He saw explosions. He saw a storm of magic. And most importantly, he saw death.
His heart lurched.
"Everyone! Evasive action-NOW!!"
He rocketed upward just as the morphs unleashed a barrage of magic. Dozens-then hundreds-of spells rained down like meteor showers. Fire, water, lightning, wind, raw mana-chaotic, uncoordinated, but impossibly lethal within the confined hall.
By some miracle, Riku's warning gave everyone just enough time to scatter.
Byakuren landed beside Kasen, shielding them with her forearm. "This shouldn't be possible. They're in an anti-magic field. They shouldn't be able to cast anything."
"They shouldn't," Kasen agreed, her expression tightening. "Someone's giving them a bypass. Or something."
Kuroka landed light on her feet near Riku, Rongrong clutched protectively behind her. "Look there," she said, pointing. "Front of the two at the back. One morph hasn't moved at all."
Aichi narrowed his eyes. "The source?"
"Most likely," Rongrong murmured. "But how do we break that thing when we can't use magic?"
Riku didn't hesitate. "Leave it to me. I'll drag it into the sky."
Yorihime stepped forward, expression cool but worried. "Be careful of the newcomer. I don't like the feeling I'm getting from him."
Riku nodded-
-but the warning came too late.
A blur appeared before him. A fist smashed into his abdomen like a meteor. Riku's eyes widened as he was sent flying across the hall, smashing through marble pillars before Kuroka caught Rongrong and leapt to intercept him.
Behind them, Aichi, Kasen, Byakuren, and Yorihime immediately retaliated.
The newcomer simply slammed his fist into the floor.
A tidal wave of red lightning exploded outward, tearing through the ground in jagged, violent streaks. The four were forced to retreat immediately, even Byakuren's calm composure breaking.
"Red lightning..." she murmured. "This is going to be troublesome."
Lightning had different colors-and different meanings.
Riku's bluish-white lightning: holy, empowering, enhancing speed and strength.
Mafuyu and Kyoya's violet lightning: slower but massively destructive.
Kouya's black lightning: fast, invasive, tearing the inside far worse than the outside.
But red lightning?
Even seasoned warriors tensed at the sight.
Red lightning burned the inside of the target-melting organs, boiling blood-unless one was protected by magic. Without spells, they were severely disadvantaged.
Riku groaned as he rose, Kuroka's healing magic flowing into his battered ribs. "Red lightning... there's only one person I know who can use... Shinichi..."
Every head turned.
The newcomer slowly reached up and pulled back his hood.
A young man in his early twenties. Short dark-violet hair. Gold eyes. A long scar carved across his left eye.
Nagae Shinichi.
Byakuren's breath hitched. "Shinichi-kun? But... I thought he was missing."
Riku exhaled slowly, pain and anger swirling together. "He was. Missing, until the Branch Family claimed they found him..."
His glare shifted to Kouya.
"But to think... you turned your own grandson into a morph."
Kouya smirked, twisted delight warping his expression. "Shinichi lacked discipline. He lacked ambition. Now he has no lingering emotions. The perfect heir for the new era."
"Perfect heir my ass!" Riku roared, the Destroyer snapping back into his grip. "You turned him into a puppet-just so you could remain the one pulling the strings!"
Ephidel let out a laugh. "Well, perfect or not, he's still far beyond you now. And young heir- we have a special surprise for you."
Shinichi stepped forward.
Eight black Spirit Rings rose from his feet like pillars of death.
Riku and Rongrong froze.
Eight. Black. Spirit Rings.
A non-human creature-without a Martial Soul-using Spirit Rings.
It wasn't just forbidden.
It wasn't just unnatural.
It was a violation of every law that governed the Spirit Master world.
"This... this is impossible," Rongrong whispered, face pale.
Kouya cackled. "What's the matter, girl? Losing your nerve?"
Rongrong's eyes locked onto him-and her fear shifted into something colder. "I'm not afraid of what you did. I'm afraid of what Spirit Hall will do when they learn of this."
The color drained instantly from Kouya and Ephidel's faces.
Spirit Hall did not tolerate anomalies. Riku was already an exception only because the Sword Douluo vouched for Riku. But Shinichi?
This was an abomination.
Riku turned to Rongrong. "What happens to someone... like Shinichi if this goes on?"
Rongrong swallowed hard. "There are only two possible outcomes... At least according to Grandpa Bone."
Her voice trembled.
"One: You kill the user to ease their suffering. Or two: The Spirit Beast's soul takes control of the host's body. As you can see..."
She pointed to Shinichi's face.
Black lines were crawling across his skin like corruption made visible.
Riku felt his chest tighten-not with fear. With grief.
Shinichi... his brother...
Kasen placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll handle things here. Go. Bring him peace."
Aichi nodded firmly. "We'll cover you. Don't hold back, Riku."
Rongrong stepped forward, eyes soft. "Riku... whatever happens... we're with you."
He took a breath-long, steady, pained.
"Alright."
He activated his thruster-like wings. Light erupted behind him in twin plumes.
He looked at Shinichi-who stood silently, expression empty, Spirit Rings circling him with predatory grace.
"Shinichi... I don't know if you can hear me. But I'm glad-really-that you're here."
His voice cracked, just barely.
"And... I'm sorry."
With a sudden roar, Riku burst forward, grabbing Shinichi and tackling him upward. They pierced through the shattered roof of the Gathering Hall and shot into the sky like two blazing meteors.
Below, the others watched him disappear into the heavens.
Byakuren whispered, "Go, Riku... do what must be done."
Kuroka tightened her fists. "Please come back..."
Rongrong pressed a hand to her chest-her Spirit Rings shimmering faintly.
"Shinichi-san...though I don't know you like Riku does... but Riku will free you. I promise."
High above the Imperial Palace, two figures clashed in mid-air-Balance Breaker against corrupted Spirit Rings.
A battle between brothers.
A battle that should never have existed.
And yet one Riku had no choice but to face.