Rage and wet tearing filled the crooked alley, braiding a darkest hymn of blood and bone. Here, justice didn’t rule. Power did. The powerless met a cold end; the victors rewrote the rules like ink on rain-soaked parchment. Blood painted the walls like a storm smear. Bodies lay still, sleeping forever on this so-called pure ground.

Shitou Yuuya toed the nearest corpse, a cautious tap like testing thin ice. No breath. He exhaled, a blade slid back in its sheath. He flicked a hand, calling Shen Ling Zou and Kananin Rin forward like shadows drawn by the wind.

“Another pile dealt with.” Shen Ling Zou stared at the mound of dead, eyes like winter water. Disgust pricked, habit smothered it, and joy never came.

They’d been hacking at the Church’s front like axes at an old tree for days. No rest, no dawn, only cuts widening in the dark. It wasn’t unwillingness. It was survival. For their families to breathe under the Underworld’s ceiling, they shattered their knuckles against the cage bars. The clans would look away if profit gleamed. That was why the road stayed open like a river broken free.

“The Church hasn’t thrown in its main force,” Yuuya said, voice flat as stone. “We’ve been picking low fruit. It won’t last.”

“Right. The three of us have been too loud,” Rin murmured, her tone a drawn bowstring. “They’ve noticed.”

Dread crawled under Shen Ling Zou’s ribs like cold mist. The Church towered above them like a mountain. If their elites moved, they’d be the grass under hooves.

“No path back,” Yuuya said, steady as a temple bell. “We knew that when we chose to face the Church.”

“Yuuya…” Shen Ling Zou’s breath hitched, a coal turning bright.

“So, Yuuya, I’ll help you,” he said, heat behind his words like a forge. “It’s for me too. I won’t watch my Clan Head get exploited while he’s weak. You feel the same, don’t you?”

“You see the board clearly,” Yuuya answered, gaze like a whetted edge. “But sight isn’t enough. Without power, the end stays the same.”

“I’ve got faith,” Shen Ling Zou said, fire licking the dark. “I’ll win. The Church won’t take the Underworld. Not while I stand.”

That unwavering look struck Yuuya like thunder under the ribs. Shen Ling Zou wasn’t a saint; his vow was born from self-interest. Even so, Yuuya felt respect rise like incense smoke.

“You’ve grown up, Zou.” Memory flickered—an unruly kid, a laugh too loud. Now, a man standing like a pine in snow. Comfort warmed Yuuya’s chest like tea.

“Be that man,” Rin said, patting his shoulder, a spring touch on winter bark. “Do what you want to do.”

A sting caught in Yuuya’s throat, a blade of grass in the wind. Watching Shen Ling Zou stirred ghosts. He missed his own blood.

His sister—Four Pupils Clan’s cast-off, a withered sprout to their eyes. She fled the clan two years ago and fell off the map like a star into the sea. Maybe their parents could shrug. Yuuya couldn’t. It was a thorn under his nail, a shame that wouldn’t heal.

He wanted everything back, the way a child wants summer to never end. Even flowers by the roadside pulled him into dusk. Petals blurred; his gaze turned lonely as a moonlit pond. Power or not, Shitou Yuuya still carried a beating heart.

“Yuuya?”

“…I’m fine.” He sealed it behind his teeth, a secret folded like a paper charm. Some weights, he preferred to shoulder alone.

The world was already rotten wood, he thought, ready to collapse. Burn it down and start over. After the Church, the next target would be the Magic Institution. The thought flashed and shattered like thin glass.

A man blocked their path, and Yuuya’s calm rippled. He hadn’t finished with the Church, yet he’d let his mind wander. Too naïve.

“Combatant of the Church. Evangelist Adelaide,” Shen Ling Zou said, voice going cold as a blade. Crimson crystal crawled over his forearm like frost.

“Shen Ling Zou. Kananin Rin. And Shitou Yuuya. All three, gathered like moths to a lantern,” Adelaide said with a smile that showed teeth.

“Did your homework, huh?” Rin’s lips curved, sharp as a sakura petal in wind. “Finally smart, or just twisted?”

“What must be done must be done,” Adelaide answered, easy as rain on tile.

“One man against three,” Rin said, Mystic Power stirring around her like a tide. “You know who bleeds most.”

“Rin, stand down,” Yuuya said, voice a locked gate. “He’s mine.”

“Wha—Yuuya, you—”

“Zou, you too. Down. Watch,” Yuuya snapped, iron under silk.

“Yuuya!” Both allies protested, their concern a shouted drum. Even Adelaide frowned. In his eyes, Yuuya’s choice looked like a candle facing a storm.

“Alone?”

“Yeah. Enough talk.” Yuuya slid into a fighting stance, breath slow as fog. His intent flashed like steel in sunlight. Adelaide chuckled, a dry leaf skittering on stone.

“Good. Interesting.”

Whoosh!

Yuuya kicked off the ground, a cannon shot in tight alleys. He ghosted behind Adelaide in a blink, fist coiling for a spine-shot. Adelaide moved like a door already shut; his elbow caught the blow, solid as a pillar.

Yuuya’s mouth twitched, a bitter line. He dropped like rain, shaving past a killing swipe over his head. His fingers clenched and hammered for the jaw.

No use. Adelaide’s answers came neat as beads on a string. The moment he reached, he’d decided Yuuya’s attack would fail.

Adelaide’s blade-work was vicious and clean, one knife used like a storm of knives. For a heartbeat, Yuuya thought he faced some new weapon, not a hand and steel.

He stepped back three paces, feet whispering like reeds. Adelaide sneered. Yuuya didn’t bite. He drew in Mystic Power, red sparks coiling around his bones.

“It starts,” Rin whispered, a wind-bell in the dark.

“Yeah. Yuuya finally got serious,” Shen Ling Zou said. Their eyes locked on the fight, no blink wasted.

Red aura curled over Yuuya, a dusk cloud hugging a mountain. His gaze sank, a well with no bottom. His face emptied of noise; inside, stray thoughts went still, like snow covering tracks.

“Finally,” Adelaide said, battle will rising like heat mirage. “This will be fun.”

Shitou Yuuya, the name that rang through the Underworld like thunder over plains. Adelaide wanted to see how deep that river ran.

When Yuuya opened his eyes again, his black irises had bled red. Fine markings fanned from the corners, delicate as leaf veins. His whole bearing shifted—less play, more weight. He wore victory like a cloak.

Yuuya vanished, a candle flame snuffed. He reappeared by Adelaide and slammed a fist down like a falling hammer. Adelaide caught it, but Yuuya moved quicker, his aura blasting out like a shockwave.

Adelaide froze for a heartbeat. Yuuya smiled inside, small and sharp. A blood-red orb bloomed in his palm, a heart of coals. He thrust—but Adelaide clamped his wrist. Surprise flashed; fingers like manacles locked his arm.

“Speed alone won’t do it,” Adelaide said, voice gravel over steel. “Your body’s not enough.”

He flung Yuuya. The arc traced the air like a bright wound. Yuuya hit hard, earth slamming his ribs, grit in his teeth.

Against a bull like Adelaide, a pure speed blade chipped. It needed heft to bite.

“Yuuya!”

“Don’t come. I’ve got this!” His shout cracked like a whip. He stood, blood-red eyes pinned on his prey like twin suns.

“Still not giving up? Alone, you change nothing,” Adelaide said, gathering power. It rumbled around him like a brewing storm.

The energy snarled, unstable as a firework in a fist. One wrong twitch and it would blow the sky apart.

“Trust him,” Rin murmured, tapping Shen Ling Zou’s shoulder. Her smile was thin and brave. “He’s Shitou Yuuya.”

Yuuya moved again, steps light as a fox on snow. He chose the front road, no tricks, no branches.

Adelaide smirked, then detonated his gathered power. It burst into a meteor shower, white fire seeding the sky. The streaks fell toward Yuuya like a rain of razors.

Yuuya didn’t flinch. He watched, cool as still water. He poured more power into his limbs and ran every red light. He walked the chaos, threading through falling stars, slipping every strike like a fish through reeds. He stood at the eye of it, untouched.

“What?!” Adelaide’s shock cracked the air. Who danced inside the heart of his storm? To do that took reflex like lightning and a mind that turned on a dime. Yuuya had both.

Boom!

Yuuya burst out of the blaze and crushed an uppercut into Adelaide’s jaw. Adelaide bounced up like a puppet cut wrong, mouth full of dirt and grass. Shame burned; a man he’d toyed with minutes ago now shoved him into the mud.

“Damn it!”

Boom!

They collided, two storms grinding. Energy struck energy; the ground buckled and spat. Mud and stone flew like flung birds.

Yuuya’s body wore Mystic Power like coiled serpents. Blood-red aura wrapped him, a river that felt endless, a drum that never stopped.

Whoosh!

He vanished and flashed before Adelaide. Adelaide swung, and Yuuya vanished again, a lantern wink. He repeated, a stutter-step that frayed nerves. Then came the answer. A kick speared Adelaide’s gut like a piledriver. Yuuya lifted and flung him skyward, then rained fists like cold autumn hail.

Adelaide had no answer, only the helpless beat of a bag in a butcher’s hand. Yuuya’s face stayed calm, a still lake reflecting storm.

“Four Pupils Clan’s secret art. Blood Pupil,” Shen Ling Zou breathed, awe edged like ice.

“A terrifying gift,” Rin said. “In every sense.”

Yuuya looked down at the wreck of Adelaide, eyes cool as night rain. He punted him aside, clearing the clutter from his path.

Adelaide snarled and drew a gun. The trigger snapped, and bullets spat like hornets.

Clang, clang, clang!

Yuuya raised a butterfly knife, its spine ringing like a bell. The rounds scorched trails across the blade, heat singing steel.

Blood Pupil—Four Pupils Clan’s hidden art. It multiplied its bearer’s strength for a short span, most of all the reflex and the eye that tracks motion. It was the clan’s heartbeat technique, their name written in red.

With it, Shitou Yuuya pushed his power higher and caught thunder with bare hands. His reactions sharpened to the edge of a falling leaf.

“No wonder Yuuya said he could take this alone,” Rin said, relief blooming like dawn. “He’s advanced this far. That confidence wasn’t empty.”

“Good,” Shen Ling Zou answered, battle heat rising like a sun. “I’m glad. One day, I’ll step past that field with my own feet.”

He seemed to catch fire, like tinder flaring under a sudden gust.

“No way. This has to be a dream—a fogged mirage.”

Adelaide, trounced by Shitou Yuya, clung to denial like smoke, refusing the cold iron of reality.

“If it’s a dream, then let me wake, like a bell at dawn…”

“You won’t wake; that door’s sealed. The night doesn’t give second chances.”

He froze, a startled gasp knifing through the silence.

Whoomph!

A single palm loosed a pressure wave that made the earth drum and shiver.

At point-blank range, Adelaide was erased, not even scraps left.

Blood spattered like red rain, a few pieces gleaming like broken shells; most of him sank into the pool.

Shitou Yuya stood there, half his face lacquered red, blood freckling clothes once kept spotless.

His expression was a still pond.

Killing, for him, was weather—expected as winter wind.

He wasn’t kind; he cut to sever future rot. He never softened toward foes.

In battle, his mind stayed ice, his power iron. He would become a legend of the Underworld.

“It’s over—” his words fell like a curtain.

In this dark world, blood is common as rain; no matter how many fall, Shitou Yuya doesn’t blink.

Those sunk in night don’t fear the King of Hell.

That’s the law of this world, carved in cold iron.