"You bastard," Lira growled, eyes flaring with fury. "You didn't even see my technique…"
She slammed her fist into her open palm.
"Gravity Abyss: Stage One."
Without touching a thing, she raised a massive chunk of stone into the air. Her fingers curled—then flicked.
The boulder launched like a missile straight at Souta, slicing through the air with brutal speed.
But just as it reached him—it shattered.
Exploded into countless fragments, like it hit an invisible wall made of blades.
Lira's eyes widened. "What…?!"
Souta didn't even flinch.
She clenched her jaw. "I don't need to touch anything to destroy it. That rock? Just a knock at the door."
Souta sighed like he was already bored. "Whatever. Let's see what's behind it."
"Gravity Abyron: Stage Two."
A wave of crushing pressure slammed down from above, warping the air itself. The earth cracked beneath it. Even trees nearby splintered and bent. It felt like the entire area was being pulled into a singularity—straight onto Souta.
But then—
Souta raised his hand lazily.
"Reverse Technique."
Lira gasped.
Her own gravity reversed, crashing back into her like a tidal wave. She staggered, coughing, eyes wide in disbelief as she struggled against her own power turned against her.
"You're not the only one who controls force," Souta said coldly. "You manipulate gravity? I rewrite it."
Before she could recover, Gora roared.
"Black Panther—AWAKEN!!"
From his shadow, a colossal, jet-black panther burst out, its body formed of smoke and dark energy, claws sparking, fangs glowing like molten steel. It sprinted toward Souta like a living bullet.
But Souta vanished.
Not teleported. He just moved—so fast Gora didn't even register the blur.
By the time Gora turned his head, it was already over.
The panther—dead. Its massive corpse slumped to the dirt, rapidly being absorbed into Souta's katana, like the blade was feeding on it.
Gora's pupils shrank.
For the first time… he felt fear.
Then came the flashback.
---
FLASHBACK – YEARS AGO
A younger Gora knelt before a throne made of cracked obsidian. Kaede sat above, draped in black and crimson robes, his red eyes glowing like cursed moons.
His voice echoed with deadly calm.
"From now on… you are Zai Eight."
Behind Kaede, ten thrones stood in silence. Most were empty—but not all.
One was occupied by a boy.
Slender, pale, black hair tied up loosely, a scar running across his collarbone. He was around Gora's age—but the pressure from him was… unnatural.
A glowing "-5" mark shimmered beside his eye.
Kaede motioned lazily. "This is Saisheiu Yamato. Zai Seven. He'll be your partner. And your teacher. He'll show you what it means to walk as one of us."
Gora stared at him.
Yamato only gave a nod. Silent. Cold. Dangerous.
That was the day it began.
From then on, they fought. Trained. Bleeded side by side. Gora was wild, untamed, a beast of primal rage. Yamato was precise—razor-sharp intellect and deadlier instincts. Opposites. Rivals. Friends. Enemies. The line blurred fast.
They respected each other, even if they'd never admit it.
They both knew—they were different from the rest.
---
BACK TO PRESENT
Gora clenched his fists.
His friend... rival... the one he always chased—wouldn't forgive him for losing here.
And yet...
Souta's power felt impossible. Like it didn't obey any logic. Like he didn't even need strength—just sheer understanding of reality.
"He's not even using full effort..." Gora whispered.
Souta flicked blood off his katana, eyes glowing silver and green.
"This the part where you get serious?" he asked casually. "Because if not—you're both dead within ten seconds."