Legend says that in an island nation of the Eastern world, people revered spirits so deeply that nearly every aspect of life intertwined with the divine. This evolved into a unique belief system where all things possessed a soul—even ordinary objects became objects of worship.

Take the samurai’s blade… the katana. This nation’s history brimmed with villains, yet heroes flourished too. Defining "hero" sparked endless debate, for each heart held its own vision. But in those war-torn eras, samurai lived day by day. Survival demanded embracing death—a truth all knew: only those giving their all, always, would live.

In this dark vortex where crows ruled the three thousand realms, your blade was your sole anchor. Family… a burden. Friendship… a weight. Love… an illusion. To reach the peak, one must embrace solitude… walking alone on shadowed earth. Yet humans cannot truly live alone. Born to shun loneliness, to crave reliance, the samurai found their only companion in the sword at their hip.

Obsession birthed spirit. Spirit hardened into soul. Though centuries passed… souls never truly faded. No matter how the world judged them… a soul remained true to its essence.

————

Slasher Juro slowly pulled the katana from the earth and sheathed it at his waist. He unhooked a weathered flask, yanked down his demon mask, and gulped deeply. Wiping his mouth roughly, a satisfied, feral grin twisted his lips.

"Took you long enough… Drinking liquor that tastes of home means no regrets, even dying far from it. Silver-haired brat—do you have a home?"

"......" (Bai shook his head.)

"Hah… What a misfortune. Hmph…"

Slasher Juro’s hand gripped his sword hilt. His legs shifted subtly… weight sinking low. Thick black smoke erupted from his body… crackling like dark lightning—a stark contrast to Bai’s pristine white. Between them, the earth split under clashing auras: a white, rune-inscribed barrier of light hissed against a dome of black thunder.

Bai stood ready too—one hand on his sword, front foot planted in a lunge, wings fully spread. His own pressure surged.

Purames had already retreated beside Pipe Captain. He seized her shoulder and leapt onto a nearby boulder. Such intimate contact was rare; Purames’ cheeks flushed crimson, as if she’d just climaxed.

"Unbelievable… He’s reached this level?"

"The Captain means the silver-haired kid? He’s barely six-tenths our strength. If not for that holy power suppressing Slasher Juro’s darkness—countering him—he’d be pinned down instantly."

"Even so… remarkable. We must gauge his true power."

No one was more stunned than Pipe Captain. This shattered his earlier doubts about gods’ existence. Slasher Juro had called Bai the soul of the Holy Silver Sword. And Slasher Juro himself was a god—not born of nature, but undeniably divine. Bai’s status thus rose to godhood. The notion that humans couldn’t kill gods? Shattered. Humans not only killed gods… they enslaved them.

When both warriors peaked in pressure, they struck simultaneously. Seizing initiative… decided battles. Dominating early let relentless offense widen the gap—especially against unfamiliar foes. Overwhelm their rhythm, crush them in one breath. Stalemates of mutual probing were rare unless opponents knew each other well.

"Not bad, kid!"

Slasher Juro swung his katana, wreathed in black lightning. Moon-bright arcs flashed through the air… carving deep gashes into the earth wherever they struck. Pipe Captain pulled Purames farther back, watching from a distance. Night or day made no difference to them; both saw perfectly in darkness.

The Holy Silver Sword now glowed with a soft, translucent white aura—no longer blazing flames, but purer, steadier light.

*Clang! Crack! Clang! Crack! Clang! Snap! Clang! Clang! Clang! Crack!*

Blades met countless times before locking in a final, shuddering clash. Faces illuminated by their weapons’ glow: Slasher Juro’s demon mask twisted by hellish lightning, Bai’s expressionless face sanctified by white radiance—angelic, yet his sharp eyes burned with killing intent identical to the fury leaking through Slasher Juro’s mask.

"Guh…"

"......"

Mid-stance, Bai flew backward. He rose from the dirt, brow furrowed. Slasher Juro slowly retracted his kicking leg…

"Heh. Where I’m from, samurai don’t just fight with blades… A dirty kick? Commonplace. Guh… You learn fast, kid…"

"......"

Bai spread his wings and soared. Against Slasher Juro—bound to the earth—Bai held every advantage from the sky. He became a white comet, a streak of light diving with sword gleaming lethally.

"Wings sure are convenient… damn it…"

Slasher Juro could only defend. Bai struck from all sides—darting in, forcing a block, then retreating before a counter could land. Again and again.

Suddenly, Slasher Juro stopped blocking. He sheathed his sword, hand resting on the hilt, ignoring Bai’s charge… until the Holy Silver Sword was half a meter from his chest. Then—a draw-cut. A flash like blooming lotus petals. The iaijutsu strike forced Bai to parry… though he dodged instantly. After several futile dives, Bai ceased close attacks, instead firing white sword beams from afar. The ground cratered like a meteor shower’s aftermath.

"Thrilling!"

Slasher Juro slashed black lightning arcs skyward. But light always subdued darkness… Though stronger, he couldn’t wound Bai mortally. Neither could break the stalemate. They stood apart now… minutes of all-out combat had drained them mentally.

"This… was truly exhilarating. One final strike… taste my ultimate technique."

"......"

Slasher Juro drew his katana, reversed his grip, and plunged the tip into the earth. He released it—the blade sank like stone in water. The world dimmed, reality blurring… fading as if erased. Behind him, a tree’s outline sharpened—a beautiful sakura, pink petals swirling down… Then another tree. And another. A grove formed. Figures emerged from the blossoms—children in elegant, robe-like garments, boys and girls laughing, circling the trees, singing a nursery rhyme… The scene flipped: the grove now viewed from above. The singing children spun faster… forming intricate patterns… A 卍 symbol appeared within their circle.

The 卍 spun… rotating… pulsing with black light…

Danger. A lethal aura crashed over Bai. Darkness swallowed the world—no light, only endless night. He heard water… a vast, wide river. Crimson spider lilies bloomed along its banks—flowers he’d never seen.

"...The road to Yomi’s slope… Even gods… cannot escape…"

Slasher Juro lifted the katana rising from the earth. He sheathed it slowly… sealing the path to Yomi he’d opened. Bai was buried. No one escaped that infinite dark… crossing the Sanzu River onto the dead’s path, entering the Six Realms of Rebirth…

Slasher Juro returned to Pipe Captain’s side, his aura calmed.

"Finished?"

"Yes. A splendid fight. I’m deeply satisfied… Thank you… Wait. No… It’s not over. It seems…"

Space twisted. Black lightning crackled… tearing a rift. Light pierced the fracture but couldn’t break through—until the barrier shattered completely. Radiant white light spilled out. Bai stood there again. His armor was cracked. His luminous wings gone. Wounds covered his body—but as he touched the ground, they sealed. Black smoke dissipated… From the rift came wails of tormented spirits…

Bai smoothed the rift shut—as if erasing a stray line on canvas. Light faded. The tear vanished.

"I am Light itself… Hell cannot hold me."

"Guh… Is that so…"

"Slasher Juro. Stand down… He’s mine."

Pipe Captain stepped forward, blocking Slasher Juro’s path.

Bai studied the skeleton. Something about him… reminded him of another. That attire… uncannily similar…

Crimson coat. Black boots. Mountain-shaped hat. A curved black saber at his waist. An ornate flintlock pistol holstered low. Yet this one reeked of darkness—Undead…

Then, the unthinkable happened. Princess Sasha appeared—rushing barefoot in thin sleepwear toward Bai. Purames spotted her and swept her up.

"Sasha, it’s dangerous… Don’t go near him. Stay here and watch the Captain handle this."

Purames soothed Sasha gently, nodding to Pipe Captain.

"Release her."

Bai’s eyes narrowed. Seeing Sasha held, a flicker of raw emotion—anger—cut through his icy calm.

"Want her? Defeat me first."

Pipe Captain drew his saber…

"Release her. And hand over the man with her. Let me take them. I’ll spare your lives."

"Hmph… Heh… HAHAHA! Ah, pardon me… I didn’t expect you’d steal my line. I never take back my words… Want her? Defeat me."

"..."

Bai fell silent, thrusting his sword at Pipe Captain. Fearing he might accidentally hurt Sasha, he held back his full strength.

Yet right before his eyes, the skeleton captain vanished as if piercing a spatial barrier. A punch slammed into Bai’s face... then he crashed heavily to the ground. Slowly, he rose and thrust again... only to be inexplicably sent flying once more. The opponent didn’t even draw his sword... but Bai couldn’t quit. That light was his deepest yearning... the one thing he clung to... what made him feel alive...

"Not giving up? You’re no match for me..."

"...I said, release her... and that man too..."

"Fool..."

Pipe Captain donned a disguise, covering his skeletal face. He shifted back to Dracula’s form... Bai froze, dumbfounded. Purames set Sasha down—clever as he was, he knew Sasha and Bai recognized each other. Only one explanation fit: this man must’ve met the captain during his last solo trip. Sasha sprinted to Bai, tugging his pants leg... Bai reflexively crouched and lifted her onto his shoulders.

"Well... my friend... surprised? Just another identity... a disguise to walk among humans..."

"Is that so... then... that’s truly wonderful..."

Sasha hugged Bai, kissing his cheek... A ray of dawn light pierced the eastern sea, scattering the darkness. The night was over...