Still walking down the long hall that stretched endlessly before him, Yourupt took too slow, deliberate steps, each one bringing him closer to the unknown. His thoughts remained focused, a calm resolve settling in his chest as he braced himself for whatever lay beyond that door. The air grew heavier, thick with anticipation. As if sensing his presence, dark tendrils of shadow began to creep along the walls, slithering and coiling with a life of their own, inching closer to him, their cold embrace almost palpable in the silence.

  The strange shadows that surrounded him were part of Yourupt's Elite Shadow Figures — powerful beings whose souls had been captured and transformed into loyal soldiers. These figures were no ordinary shadows; they retained their full essence, will, and consciousness from their previous lives. Their ability to think, speak, and make decisions set them apart from regular shadows, making them not only formidable but sentient in their own right.

  While Yourupt himself didn’t have full access to every shadow absorbed from Dark Yourupt, the number of shadows that had merged with him over time was staggering. Even with only a fraction of his full power, the shadows he could call upon now were enough to pose a serious threat to almost anyone in the unknown. The sheer weight of their accumulated strength and the numbers he could command made him an unstoppable force, able to overwhelm most enemies with ease.

  The shadows slowly took form, each one revealing its true nature.

  The first was a wolf, sleek and shadowy, with eyes glowing faintly like embers. It padded forward, its presence silent but imposing, a creature bred for surveillance and support in battle. The wolf bowed its head, acknowledging its master with unwavering loyalty.

  Next, a massive, hulking dragon emerged from the darkness. Its scales shimmered in a way that defied the dim light, as though the very spirits of the fallen dragons from the Vermillion incident had combined into this powerful form. It was a creature of pure might, built for crowd control and aerial supremacy, its enormous wings unfurling with a sound that reverberated through the space.

  Finally, a human-like woman figure appeared, its form ethereal yet solid. This spirit radiated an aura of healing magic, a quiet, unspoken power. It bowed deeply, its face hidden behind strands of long, silver hair, its presence a calming contrast to the aggressive energy of the other shadows.

  Yourupt nodded as they all bowed, a rare show of respect. He looked at each of them in turn before speaking.

  Yourupt: "Didn’t expect you guys to come back so fast just after a few minutes of calling you guys out, Kyorik, Drakaros, and Vereia," he said, his voice steady, commanding.

  Yourupt: "Better than being late, So what’s our situation looking like?"

  Kyorik, the wolf, was the first to speak, his voice low and steady, almost like a growl.

  Kyorik: "Nothing has happened at the Singularity Line," he began, his amber eyes scanning the surroundings.

  Kyorik: "But we’ve been sensing strange energy coming from the upper layers of the Unknown. It’s concerning... and it’s making its way down."

  Yourupt listened carefully, his gaze sharpening as he processed the information.

  Yourupt: "Okay," he replied. "Did you check who’s behind the door that leads to the gardens?"

  Kyorik tilted his head slightly, still focused on the task at hand.

  Kyorik: "There are about ten people. Eight of them aren’t very strong, but the last two... they might be the leader of the Bounty Hunters and his right-hand man. I don’t expect any form of ambush to happen."

  Yourupt nodded in acknowledgment, his hand briefly resting on Kyorik’s head in a gesture of appreciation.

  Yourupt: "Thanks for the info and head up, Kyorik. Now just keep an eye out for this unknown source of energy and report back if things go wrong ."

  Without a word, Kyorik bowed his head and melted back into the shadows, his form dissolving into darkness. His presence was still felt, his eyes still watching from the void, ever alert to any signs of danger.

  Yourupt’s attention shifted toward Drakaros, his voice steady but with an underlying urgency.

  Yourupt: "Have you been watching over and protecting the guests?"

  Drakaros straightened, his eyes glowing with an eerie light as he answered.

  Drakaros: "Yes, Master Yourupt. I’ve been overlooking the whole house from afar. I can’t sense anything that would bring harm to the people... except for the similar energy source Kyorik and I have been sensing since that maid girl was knocked out. It’s only in small moments, but it’s unsettling."

  Yourupt’s brow furrowed.

  Yourupt: "So, you’ve been sensing it too."

  A flicker of concern passed across Drakaros’ usually stoic face.

  Drakaros: "Yes, and I’m very worried, Master Yourupt. If this energy is connected to what we’ve been sensing around the rifts... and... her."

  Yourupt’s voice hardened as he raised his hand, releasing a pulse of mana to calm Drakaros.

  Yourupt: "Not here, Drakaros," he said firmly.

  Yourupt: "There’s nothing dangerous coming to the house right now. If you’re worried about me that much, then come back to me. I might need your help if this deal goes south."

  Drakaros immediately bowed his head in apology, his voice filled with regret.

  Drakaros:"I’m sorry for going out of line."

  Yourupt gave a small, reassuring smile, his hand lowering as he absorbed Drakaros back into himself.

  Yourupt: "It’s fine, Drakaros."

  The moment passed, but the concern lingered. As much as Yourupt valued the loyalty and power of his shadows, even they couldn’t quell the unease creeping through him.

  With both Kyorik and Drakaros having given their reports, only one shadow remained — the calm and steady presence of Vereia. In life, she had been a gifted healer, born half-human and half-spirit, and even now as a shadow, that mix gave her a certain gentleness that hadn’t faded.

  Now serving under Yourupt, Vereia’s role wasn’t about fighting — it was about keeping him alive. She monitored his vitals constantly, stepping in with powerful healing magic when his regeneration wasn’t enough. Her blessings gave him strength when he needed it most, and her magic kept him standing long past his limits.

  She stepped forward quietly, bowing her head slightly as her form flickered faintly in the dim light. She didn’t say much — she rarely needed to — but her presence alone was a quiet reassurance that, no matter what was ahead, he wouldn’t be facing it alone.

  Vereia gently pulled back the long hood that had shrouded her face, her glowing eyes meeting Yourupt’s with a calm, steady gaze.

  Vereia: “Even though it’s only been a few months since your new powers awakened — when we rose alongside you and the many others,” she began, her voice soft but unwavering, “they’ve all placed their trust in you. Not just to lead, but to uncover the truth — to find out what really happened to them before they were absorbed by your dark self and turned into what we are now… shadows, including myself.”

  There was no bitterness in her tone, only quiet acceptance. A trace of sadness lingered in her expression, but beneath it was a fierce loyalty — a resolve that, whatever answers lay ahead, she would follow him there.

  Yourupt didn’t respond right away. He stood in silence, eyes fixed on Vereia, her words lingering in the air like a weight pressing against his chest. For a moment, the confidence he carried so effortlessly seemed to falter — not out of fear, but out of something deeper… guilt, maybe, or responsibility.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm.

  Yourupt: “With your help… I can grow strong enough,” he said, looking between the three of them. “Strong enough to stand on my own. So that one day, you all can move on — find peace. And maybe… figure out if the rifts have anything to do with what happened to my other self.”

  His fists clenched slightly at his sides, the quiet fire in his eyes returning.

  Yourupt: “We’ll get the answers. I promise.”

  Vereia offered a soft, knowing smile before continuing,

  Vereia: “I know you can. But back to what you asked earlier… I think I may know why you couldn’t summon us during your fight with the Shadow Dragon.”

  Yourupt’s focus sharpened instantly.

  Yourupt: “Go on.”

  Vereia nodded, her expression turning serious.

  Vereia: “During that battle, when you were being wounded, you assumed it was because the Shadow Dragon was using an unusually high level of mana. But… it didn’t feel like mana. Not exactly. It was colder. Emptier. It felt more like a void than any magic pr mana I’ve ever sensed.”

  She hesitated for a moment before adding,

  Vereia: “And the strange thing is… this wasn’t the first time we’ve encountered it. I’m not just talking about that recent surge around the maid girl, either. I mean—”

  Yourupt: “Back at the Final War during the fight between Wfighter and Captain Kaha,” Yourupt cut in, his voice low, but certain.

  Vereia blinked, a little surprised.

  Vereia: “Yes. Exactly. According to what I’ve uncovered from Lady Chihaya’s library, that strange presence is known as null energy — something not aligned with any spiritual or magical system we know. It matches the strange fragments of memory you've been receiving since awakening your new powers.”

  She paused, letting the weight of that word settle.

  Yourupt: “Null energy… might be the key to unlocking what really happened back then and even the reason behind the rifts,” she finished.

  Yourupt suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, stopping him in his tracks. His vision blurred for a moment before unfamiliar memories started flooding in. They weren’t his own—at least, not completely.

  He saw his dark self standing in a strange, godlike realm, facing a towering figure with an overwhelming presence. The air seemed to bend around this being, as if reality itself struggled to hold steady. Then came a voice—deep, calm, and serious:

  Dark Yourupt: “Solandir the First… the oldest and strongest of the Supreme Narrators. I know you know something about null energy. Where it comes from… what it really is.”

  Before Yourupt could see more, the memory suddenly cut off—like someone was stopping it from going any further. But in those last seconds, he saw a flash of battle: his dark self clashing with that godlike figure. Screams echoed in the background. The realm was collapsing into chaos. And then, just for a moment, he saw his dark self standing over the fallen figure, victorious.

  The vision vanished.

  Yourupt took a deep breath, steadying himself. Whoever was sending him these memories clearly didn’t want him seeing too much. But now he had a name—Solandir the First—and another question to add to the growing list.

  Vereia rushed to Yourupt's side as she cast a healing spell to him as she says

  Vereia: "Anima Mend." The gentle light enveloped his form, mending the damage done to his mind.

  Still worried, she looked at him, her hands trembling slightly as she asked,

  Vereia: "Master Yourupt, are you okay?"

  Yourupt slowly rose to his feet, still feeling lightheaded but managing to steady himself.

  Yourupt: "I’m okay, Vereia, just got a little dizzy. But... Can you help me up?"

  Without hesitation, Vereia reached out, helping him stand. But as she did, tears began to spill from her eyes. Yourupt, alarmed, reached out to her.

  Yourupt: "Woah, Vereia," he said, his voice soft yet firm, "I told you, I’m 100% okay now."

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Vereia clung to him, her voice shaky as she replied,

  Vereia: "I know, but I was so scared. If your mind wasn’t healed... I wouldn’t have known what to do."

  Yourupt gently wiped away her tears, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

  Yourupt: "Thanks for watching out for me, Vereia," he said. "But you need to pull yourself together, alright?"

  Vereia sniffled, nodding and wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

  Vereia: "Okay."

  Yourupt sighed, his gaze drifting for a moment before focusing back on her.

  Yourupt: "So, about the shadow dragon... it must’ve either been using null energy, or—what I think happened—is that it was a being made from null energy itself. The memories I saw just now confirm that my dark self was seeking the source of it. He was looking for answers... or power."

  He paused, collecting his thoughts.

  Yourupt: "Do you remember back in the frozen forest, part of The Deep Darkest? When Lady Chihaya was collecting those bits of unknown energy? I think it must’ve been null energy. But what bothers me is that I don’t know if all that energy came from the shadow dragon alone... My dark self likely took over my body back then, but why now? Why take control again?"

  It took a moment for Vereia to process what Yourupt had just said, but as the weight of his words hit her, she gasped, her voice rising in shock.

  Vereia: "Wait, your dark self took over your body again? Are you serious? Fine, do I have to check for brain damage now? Because I must have just heard you wrong."

  Yourupt, though caught off guard by her reaction, couldn’t help but reflect inwardly.

  Yourupt: So that confirms it... she and the others don’t remember anything when he takes over.

  He exhaled slowly before responding,

  Yourupt: "This is just a theory... but it explains the blackout I had during the fight with the shadow dragon. I remember the fight starting, but everything after that is a blur. When I woke up, I didn’t remember much, and there was no sign of the dragon anywhere but the bits of null energy."

  Yourupt, now piecing together more about null energy, began to connect the dots. He suspected that this could be related to the rifts, but he needed solid proof. The question of whether null energy was the source of the rifts loomed large, and he needed one of his shadows to investigate further, possibly even visit one of the rifts to gather more insight into its true origin.

  He turned to Vereia, his expression serious.

  Yourupt: “That will be all for now, but I need you to keep looking into Lady Chihaya. Find anything you can about null energy and gather any reports related to the rifts. Once you have what you can, come back to me with your findings. Can you do that?”

  Vereia, understanding the gravity of the task, nodded before slipping back into her shadow form.

  Vereia: “I can do that.”

  As Vereia began to leave, Yourupt remained silent, his expression unreadable. Shadows coiled gently around his feet as his thoughts grew heavier. With a slow gesture, he summoned a portal—its swirling energy glowing faintly with a mix of violet and deep obsidian tones, whispering with traces of the unknown.

  He stood there for a moment, motionless, staring into the shifting veil beyond the portal. No words came from him this time—only silence.

  Vereia paused briefly, as if sensing the weight in the air, before fading back into the shadows.

  Left alone, Yourupt took one last breath, his figure outlined by the glow of the rift he created. Then, without hesitation, he stepped through and vanished into the unknown.

  A Few Minutes Earlier – The Garden

  In the stillness of the indoor garden, illuminated by soft, artificial light mimicking a twilight hue, ten figures stood in uneasy silence. The glow from carefully placed fixtures cast long shadows across the stone path and the carefully trimmed hedges. Mechanical vents provided the gentle rustle of air, stirring petals from the delicate cherry blossom trees that bloomed out of place, their beauty uncanny in such a controlled environment.

  These were the ones Kyorik had mentioned—guests, but ones who felt just a little too composed. Too aware. Despite their differing demeanors—some curious, some wary, others visibly restless—they all shared a single purpose: they were waiting. Waiting for someone important.

  One of them, a tall man in a dark coat with a scar running down his jaw, shifted his weight with irritation.

  Bodyguard 1#: “She’s late,” he muttered, eyes scanning the softly lit garden with suspicion.

  Bodyguard 2#: “Patience,” said a woman in a pale lavender cloak, her hands neatly clasped in front of her. “If it’s really Maid Isabella, she’ll come when she’s ready. And besides…” Her eyes briefly flicked toward a curved stone pathway leading deeper into the estate. “We’re being watched.”

  Despite the calm surroundings, unease settled thickly over the group. Kyorik’s warning echoed in their minds: stay sharp, trust nothing.

  At the heart of the gathering stood Ryouji Leich, a commanding presence. A half-human, half-demon hybrid of 23 years, his black skin, stark white hair, and piercing red eyes gave him a striking, almost mythic quality. He wore a long, silver-buttoned dark orange coat with three split coattails, the collar wrapped in a black demon skull pattern. An orange rag hung from his neck over a black sleeveless vest, revealing his chiseled arms and shoulders. Tan fingerless gloves, black scale-patterned pants, and tall brown boots completed the look—practical, yet unmistakably personal, who carried his father's legendary sword “Chtulu”.

  Beside him was his right hand, Jey, a calm-eyed sniper with white-tanned skin and dark brown hair. Jey wore a simple, durable long-sleeved shirt, layered beneath sleek, futuristic body armor. A dusty, battle-worn duster coat hung from his frame, and his metal-reinforced boots told stories of long travel and harder fights. His sniper rifle, slung casually across his back, glinted under the false twilight, while dual holsters at his hips gave him the silhouette of someone always ready.

  The remaining guards flanking them wore similar gear—rugged, armored, and dark-toned uniforms built for function, not fashion.

  Then, just as the vents shifted and petals danced across the stone floor, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the far hallway.

  Someone was approaching.

  Shadows began to creep unnaturally across the garden floor, crawling over the cobbled paths and curling around the edges of flower beds. The artificial lights flickered, dimming as if something unseen was drawing the energy out of the air. A chill settled over the room.

  Instinctively, weapons were drawn. Steel flashed, magic crackled, and the uneasy silence shattered into a chorus of tension. The guests formed a loose circle, backs to one another, eyes darting in all directions—but no one could tell where the darkness was coming from.

  Except Ryouji and Jey.

  The half-demon’s red eyes narrowed, and Jey’s fingers twitched toward the sniper holstered at his back. They could feel it—a presence. Not just hiding within the shadows, but moving them, controlling them. Something powerful.

  Ryouji: “Hold,” Ryouji murmured under his breath. “I know this signature.”

  Before they could act, a sharp crack split the air like thunder. Reality itself seemed to tear, right in the middle of their formation—a vertical slash of nothingness carved into space. Out of the rip in existence stepped Yourupt, calm, silent, his eyes scanning the tense ring of warriors.

  He said nothing.

  For a moment, no one moved. The shadows seemed to pause as well, like they were waiting for his command. The garden, once tranquil, was now cloaked in eerie quiet once again—but with an edge sharper than any blade drawn.

  The portal behind him flickered faintly, still open, casting an otherworldly light onto the garden stones beneath his feet.

  Yourupt stood still, unreadable. Watching.

  Waiting.

  Gasps rippled through the gathered group as their eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the portal. For a moment, it was dead silent—until someone broke it.

  Bodyguard3#: “It’s Dark Yourupt!” one of the bodyguards shouted in panic, pointing his weapon. “Use everything—take him down!”

  The moment shattered.

  Chaos erupted.

  In a blink, weapons were drawn and magic lit the garden in a frenzy of elemental bursts. Bullets tore through the air, swords flashed, and incantations echoed as the guards unleashed their full arsenal on the seemingly silent intruder. Some charged with blades, others hurled destructive spells, the garden trembling under the sheer force of the collective assault.

  Ryuji: “No—STOP!” Ryouji yelled, his voice cutting through the mayhem, but it was already too late.

  Jey shouted alongside him,

  Jey: “He’s not—! That’s not him!”

  The dust settled, revealing a warped figure in the center of the onslaught. Tattered, black, and misshapen, it was a shadow copy—a decoy.

  Too late, they realized their mistake.

  In a blur of movement faster than most could track, the real Yourupt struck.

  He appeared behind the first guard before they could react, dropping him with a precise blow to the back of the neck. Another tried to turn, but a swift kick sent him spinning into unconsciousness. One by one, he dismantled the group—no weapons, no magic—just flawless, fluid hand-to-hand combat.

  Each strike was perfectly calculated: enough to incapacitate, not kill. His strength was undeniable, but what chilled those still standing was the control. He was holding back.

  Even when surrounded, even misunderstood, Yourupt showed restraint—his silence more terrifying than a war cry.

  As the final guard collapsed to the floor with a pained grunt, stunned but alive, Yourupt straightened slowly. His gaze swept over the remaining onlookers, calm and unreadable, like nothing had happened at all.

  He hadn’t said a word.

  But his message was clear.

  Yourupt’s curiosity flickered in his eyes, the question hanging in the air as he gauged the sniper’s response. He had felt the presence of everyone in the garden—their spiritual signatures, the faint pulses of mana—but this man, the one with the sniper’s cold barrel at the back of his head, had evaded detection. There was something about him, something that didn’t quite align with the rest of the group. He hadn’t felt any trace of magic or aura from him, as if he was cloaked in some unseen way.

  He studied Jey for a moment, wondering what kind of mastery he possessed. It wasn’t a common skill to slip past someone like Yourupt. Either the sniper had an extraordinary ability to hide his presence or he was an expert at using manipulating mana to mask his signature.

  With a calm tone, Yourupt spoke up.

  Yourupt: “May I ask you a question?”

  Jey’s gaze tightened, his focus unyielding, but he didn’t falter.

  Jey: “I don’t see that being a problem yet, but go on, ask away.”

  Yourupt didn’t miss the slight edge in Jey’s voice—a man who had been trained to remain alert, to hold his ground no matter the situation. But Yourupt wasn’t fazed.

  He tilted his head slightly, the smirk never quite leaving his lips.

  Yourupt: “Can you and him over there use mana?”

  The question wasn’t as casual as it seemed, but more a probing inquiry into their abilities, into their knowledge. He could tell there was more to them than met the eye, and he had a suspicion they were no ordinary soldiers.

  Jey’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, perhaps sensing that the question held more weight than it appeared. His finger didn’t waver on the trigger, but his stance shifted ever so slightly as if weighing his answer carefully.

  Jey: "That depends on who you're asking," Jey replied, his tone measured, betraying little emotion. "We all have our... ways of doing things."

  Yourupt’s smile grew faint, though his gaze remained sharp.

  Yourupt: “Interesting,” he said quietly, “because I’ve been around long enough to know when someone’s hiding something.”

  His eyes flicked to the other man nearby—Ryouji, was it?—before returning to Jey. He was sure that, whatever these two were hiding, it wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

  Yourupt: "Tell me," Yourupt continued, his voice gaining a certain gravitas, "do you know what you're standing in front of?"

  Before Jey could even react, two shadow soldiers materialized from the shadows, their hands swiftly grasping both of his arms, attempting to restrain him. But it was clear that Jey had no intention of being captured. In that split second, Yourupt, sensing an opportunity to act, moved with incredible speed toward Ryouji. His intentions were clear: if he could neutralize Ryouji, he could take control of the situation.

  But something wasn’t right.

  Ryouji remained perfectly still, a calm expression on his face, not at all concerned about the impending danger. Yourupt's mind raced as he confirmed his theory. The moment Ryouji didn’t move, it clicked—Ryouji was likely waiting for something, and perhaps even hoping for an escalation. This didn’t look like a fight he planned to lose.

  Before Yourupt could strike, Jey’s right eye flared with a dark red light, and in the blink of an eye, the shadow soldiers’ heads were obliterated, leaving nothing but empty space where they once stood. The power behind Jey’s red eye was undeniable, and Yourupt’s eyes narrowed in recognition.

  Jey moved with the speed of a predator, blurring past the remaining shadows as if they were nothing. He appeared in front of Ryouji in a heartbeat, his ability to move so quickly almost impossible to track. In an instant, Jey used his power to teleport Ryouji away to safety, leaving Yourupt standing there with nothing but the aftermath of the sudden shift.

  As Jey took position, his hands already moving to fire, a sharp series of shots rang out, the bullets slicing through the air with unnerving precision. The first bullet struck Yourupt in the shoulder, a sharp pain that jolted through him, but it wasn’t fatal. However, it was enough to make him pause, recognizing the sting. These weren’t just ordinary bullets.

  Yourupt: “What are those bullets made of?” Yourupt muttered to himself, a low growl in his voice. His mind worked quickly, analyzing the properties of the attack. “And they must be more to that ability he’s using... requires his now red right eye.”

  As Jey continued to fire, each bullet tearing through the air toward Yourupt, he could sense the odd mix of magic and technology fueling the sniper's shots. The bullets themselves were different, not just metal, but something... unnatural. He could feel the energy lingering in the wound, a force that was definitely more than what it seemed.

  Yourupt, now a bit more cautious, raised his hand to shield himself, narrowly dodging the next few shots, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to counter this new threat.

  With a flash of dark energy, he disappeared, vanishing into the shadows for a moment to reassess. There was a lot more going on here than he had first anticipated. This group, these two in particular, had something he didn’t fully understand yet—but that wouldn’t last long.

  He had a new objective now: find out what made those bullets so dangerous—and how to deal with them.

  Jey would continue to fire shots into Yourupt, with Yourupt mostly dodging most of the bullets even holding back as he realize that the other bodyguards were taken by the shadows to keep them safe from the fight as Jay see this and says

  Jey: "Where the hell did you take my men bastard?" Yourupt would say back while dodging the bullets

  Yourupt: "Tell me what your powers are and stop firing at me then I might stop and tell." Jay would say back as he now reveal his sniper

  Jey’s eyes narrowed dangerously. His finger tightened on the trigger as he clicked a button on his sniper rifle, which slid into view from a holster on his back. He leveled the weapon at Yourupt with cold precision, the muzzle glowing ominously.

  Jay: “Then after what you tried to pull under my watch, say hello to my custom Barrett M82,” he said, his voice low and laced with menace. "With .50 BMG bullets made from Ecliptium. Strong enough to kill even gods from the fundamental core."

  Jay’s breathing deepened, each inhale steadying his focus as his left eye glowed a brilliant gold. The aura around him shifted, something darker and far more dangerous building within. Yourupt immediately sensed it—a pressure unlike anything he’d felt before, and he knew something terrible was coming. He moved, pushing himself to react faster than he ever had before, but before he could fully escape, the shot rang out.

  The bullet connected with his right chest, but it wasn’t just a physical wound. The impact sent a shockwave through his very being. The attack wasn’t aimed at his body; it was aimed at his existence itself. His soul. The force of the shot tore into him, leaving him stunned, on his knees, gasping for air.

  Yourupt: "What the hell was that?" Yourupt muttered to himself, fighting against the overwhelming sensation of his very essence being torn at. "It felt like he was targeting my very self... It wasn’t just a physical wound—this attack is far worse. But... it feels like there are major drawbacks to it."

  The pain in his chest flared as Jay’s eyes began to bleed, the toll of the attack clearly affecting him as well. But for now, Yourupt was wide open.

  In the midst of his struggle, trying to patch the damage to his being, Yourupt didn’t hear the faintest sound of movement behind him—until it was too late.

  Ryouji: “Kei Ichi: Gekkō Zan,” Ryouji’s voice sliced through the air.

  Without warning, a crescent-shaped arc of energy slashed through the air, created by Ryouji’s katana as he channeled his mana into the blade. The energy crackled as it sped toward Yourupt.

  He barely registered it in time—his focus was still divided from the earlier attack—but as the arc of energy grazed him, a deep understanding washed over him.

  Yourupt: “I understand now,” Yourupt whispered under his breath, his eyes widening in realization.