The Great Wolf hung in the air, stuck behind the unseen wall of the golden portal.
Voban stood on the cracked earth, breathing hard.
His suit was burned, his side bleeding—earned in his fight with the Seventh.
He took one look at the teenager in the yukata.
Voban’s eyes went wide, then narrowed into slits, venomous and cold.
He knew exactly who this was.
He didn’t bother asking.
“You.” His voice rumbled through the crater, low and nasty.
“The rat who stole my hunt.” Ren didn’t answer.
He just stood there, calm and out of place, as if he’d wandered out of a bathhouse and found himself in a warzone.
Voban didn’t wait.
He roared, pouring the last of his mana into his hand and snapping his fingers.
A bolt of violet, damned lightning—enough to melt a tank—split the air, aimed for Ren’s heart.
Erica sucked in a breath, lungs locking tight.
Next to her, Yuri Mariya’s eyes went huge.
Her spirit vision screamed in panic.
This was Demon King power.
Nothing should survive this.
Ren didn’t move an inch.
With nothing more than a lazy flick of his finger— The air behind him rippled.
A dozen golden portals split open.
From them, spears made of ancient, sacred metal shot into the path of the lightning.
The cursed bolt smashed against the weapons, shattering into harmless sparks that faded before even getting close to Ren.
Then, silence.
Thick, heavy, dangerous.
Erica stared, her mind scrambling to keep up.
She prided herself on tactics, but she couldn’t make sense of this.
Voban was feared by the magical world; now the boy in the yukata had snuffed out his death blow with a flick of his wrist.
All the rules she lived by just died in that moment.
Voban stayed frozen, his hand still out.
The sheer weight of the Eighth Campione’s presence pressed down on the whole mountain.
He was spent, nothing left after fighting the Seventh.
He wanted to keep fighting, wanted to tear Ren apart, but his experience as a King cut through the urge.
Push now, and he’d die here.
Voban forced a sneer, dignity patched together by pride and spite.
He glared at Ren, ice-cold.
“I don’t play games with scavengers picking at kings’ leftovers.” His shadow stretched up over him, thick as tar.
The Great Wolf’s aura flared—not to fight, but to cover his retreat.
“Enjoy your peace while it lasts,” Voban spat, his voice echoing with battered arrogance.
“I haven’t forgotten my prey.
I’ll return for my kill, and you’ll know why I’m the oldest of them all.” Ren didn’t blink.
He just looked straight at the ancient King, expression flat and chilling.
“If you live long enough.” Voban let out a final growl, then melted into a huge, shadowy wolf.
He slipped into the night and was gone.
Just like that, the storm he’d brought faded.
Silence settled over the crater.
Godou Kusanagi sucked in a shaky breath, all the adrenaline drained away.
His eyes rolled back and he collapsed in the mud.
Erica caught him right before he hit, her arms tight around him, but her gaze stuck on Ren.
She was shaking.
Ren ignored them.
He raised a hand and pulled a golden ripple out of the air.
“Send the repair bill to the History Compilation Committee,” he said, voice flat as ever.
He stepped through the portal and vanished, leaving behind two stunned witnesses and a mountain that’d be making headlines for years.
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