𝙀𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙎𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙
𝘼𝙧𝙘 𝟭: 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘼𝙧𝙘
𝘾𝙝 𝟭𝟮 — 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜
The void was 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘆.
Not merely empty in the way a room could be empty.
Not the emptiness of a deserted road or an abandoned house.
It was something deeper.
Something impossible.
There was no sky above him.
No ground beneath him.
𝗡𝗼 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱.
𝗡𝗼 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱.
𝗡𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲.
Yet the endless white space stretched forever in every direction.
It felt as though reality itself had been erased, leaving behind nothing but an endless blank canvas.
And standing within that impossible place— was 𝗔𝗸𝗶𝗿𝗮.
Or at least what remained of him.
His breathing was slow.
𝗛𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆.
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗳𝘂𝗹.
He looked down.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝗲𝘀.
One side of his face felt disturbingly hollow.
When he reached up, his fingers brushed against 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘆 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁.
Even here— even in a place where pain felt distant and unreal— the sight of his own ruined body made his stomach twist.
The memories returned instantly.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘄𝘀.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲.
The desperate struggle to stay alive.
He remembered crawling across the battlefield.
Remembered refusing to die.
Remembered the feeling of his body breaking apart piece by piece.
Yet somehow… he was still here.
𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀.
𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.
Akira slowly lifted his head.
Standing several meters away was a lone figure.
Silent.
𝗠𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀.
𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺.
The figure wore the face of someone familiar.
A face he recognized immediately.
Yet it wasn’t truly that person.
There was something unnatural about it.
Something ancient.
Something that didn’t belong.
Akira narrowed his remaining eye.
“𝘚𝘰…” he muttered.
His voice sounded rough.
Exhausted.
Like sand scraping against stone.
“𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘍𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯?”
The figure didn’t answer.
It simply stared.
Akira continued.
“𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦…”
His eye narrowed.
“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘝𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴?”
The silence stretched.
One second.
𝗧𝘄𝗼.
𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲.
Then— the figure changed.
Its body rippled.
Like water disturbed by a stone.
Its appearance shifted.
Hair lengthened.
Features softened.
Eyes became familiar.
Painfully familiar.
𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗮.
It now wore Hina’s face.
𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗮’𝘀 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀.
𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗮’𝘀 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲.
Yet everything warm about her was missing.
The thing standing before him looked at him with cold authority.
Then it answered.
“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦.”
Akira froze.
For a moment he genuinely wondered if he had heard wrong.
Then—
“𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛!?”
His voice exploded across the void.
The sound echoed endlessly.
“𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘋𝘖 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘔𝘌𝘈𝘕 𝘐’𝘔 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘏𝘠!?”
He pointed at himself.
Or at least tried to.
His missing arm made the gesture awkward.
“𝘐 𝘑𝘜𝘔𝘗𝘌𝘋 𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘕 𝘈𝘙𝘔𝘠 𝘖𝘍 𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘚!”
His voice shook.
“𝘐 𝘙𝘌𝘍𝘜𝘚𝘌𝘋 𝘛𝘖 𝘋𝘐𝘌!”
“𝘐 𝘍𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘠!”
“𝘏𝘖𝘞 𝘈𝘔 𝘐 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘏𝘠!?”
The void trembled.
Not from power.
But from emotion.
𝗔𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿.
𝗙𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.
𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
The consciousness stared at him silently.
Its eyes traveled over his broken body.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗯𝘀.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘀.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘆 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁.
Then it slowly raised one finger.
And pointed directly at 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁.
Directly at his heart.
“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦.”
Akira blinked.
“…𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?”
“𝘕𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦.”
The consciousness continued.
“𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”
“𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴.”
Akira frowned.
“𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦?”
He placed a hand on his chest.
Confusion filled his face.
“𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦?”
He laughed bitterly.
“𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴.”
“𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦.”
“𝘞𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴.”
“𝘞𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴.”
The consciousness stared.
Then answered immediately.
“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭?”
Akira stopped.
The response caught him completely off guard.
The consciousness crossed its arms.
“𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦.”
It said it like it was obvious.
Like it explained everything.
“𝘐…”
Akira blinked.
“𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰𝘯?”
The consciousness sighed.
A long.
Exasperated sigh.
Like a teacher forced to explain basic mathematics to an especially dense student.
“𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘦.”
Flames flickered around its feet.
“𝘐 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯.”
“𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺.”
“𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦.”
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.”
It stepped forward.
The temperature of the void rose.
“𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝙍𝙖𝙙𝙝𝙚 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥?”
Akira scratched his cheek.
“𝘜𝘩…”
A long pause.
Then—
“𝘞𝘩𝘰?”
The consciousness stared at him.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then a memory surfaced.
A laughing man.
Wild.
Fearless.
A grin on his face.
“𝘏𝘦𝘩! 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺? 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦? 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!”
“𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦!”
“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵!?”
The memory vanished.
The consciousness rubbed its forehead.
“…”
Then it transformed again.
This time—
Master.
The old man stood there.
Smiling.
Chuckling softly.
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮.”
Then the smile vanished.
Pressure exploded across the void.
𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆.
𝗣𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿.
𝗝𝘂𝗱𝗴𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁.
The consciousness spoke.
“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴?”
Its voice echoed from every direction.
“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺?”
Akira fell silent.
The question struck deeper than he expected.
His gaze slowly lowered.
Toward his broken body.
Toward the wounds.
Toward the blood.
Then— a memory.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.
A quiet afternoon.
A wooden porch.
A lesson he hadn’t thought about for years.
“𝘈𝘺𝘢𝘵𝘰.”
His father’s voice was calm.
Gentle.
“𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.”
“𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭.”
“𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵.”
“𝘈 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭.”
“𝘈 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦.”
“𝘈 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵.”
“𝘈 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺.”
“𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦.”
The memory lingered.
His father’s smile.
His warm hand on his head.
“𝘉𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘈𝘺𝘢𝘵𝘰.”
The memory faded.
Akira slowly lifted his head.
Then answered.
“𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵.”
The void froze.
For a moment— nothing happened.
Then— the consciousness burst into laughter.
𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 —
The cocoon of fire continued to expand.
At first it was only a sphere of flames surrounding Ayato’s broken body.
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘄.
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘄.
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘄.
The surrounding monsters backed away instinctively.
Even creatures that possessed no fear in their twisted minds found themselves retreating.
Because something ancient had awakened.
Something that did not belong to them.
Something that stood above them.
The fire was no longer ordinary mana.
It felt alive.
The flames twisted through the battlefield like serpents made of sunlight, consuming everything they touched.
𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆.
𝗥𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗯𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁.
The ground itself began to glow red.
The nearest monsters tried to escape.
They never made it far.
The flames chased them.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗹𝘆.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗹𝘆.
𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘆.
Every monster touched by the inferno screamed before turning into ash.
One moment they existed.
The next moment only 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗱𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱.
Inside the cocoon, Ayato could feel everything.
The rebuilding of his body.
The return of strength.
The restoration of nerves.
The pulse of blood flowing through newly formed veins.
Every heartbeat sounded like a war drum.
𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗣.
𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗣.
𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗣.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁.
𝗕𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲.
𝗠𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺.
𝗦𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝘀.
The sensation was strange.
Like remembering limbs he had forgotten existed.
He flexed newly created fingers.
Curled them into fists.
Opened them again.
Power surged through every movement.
Not borrowed power.
Not temporary power.
His power.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁’𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱.
The massive sphere shrank inward.
Layer after layer of flame compressed into Ayato’s body.
The inferno disappeared.
The battlefield became silent.
For a brief moment.
Then—
𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗢𝗢𝗢𝗢𝗠!!
A pillar of fire erupted into the sky.
The clouds above split apart.
A ring of pressure exploded outward.
Trees bent violently.
Monsters were thrown through the air.
Even distant demons looked toward the explosion.
Everyone saw it.
Everyone felt it.
And everyone understood one thing.
Someone had awakened.
𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘀.
The pillar slowly faded.
Standing at its center was 𝗔𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗺𝘂𝗴𝗶.
His body had been completely restored.
Every injury had vanished.
The wounds that should have killed him were gone.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲.
His destroyed legs stood firmly upon the ground.
But the biggest change was invisible.
Something inside him had changed.
His mana felt different.
Before, his mana had been calm.
𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱.
𝗛𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻.
Now it felt like standing beside a volcano moments before eruption.
His eyes slowly opened.
𝗢𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲.
𝗕𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴.
Glowing softly from within.
Flames danced inside his pupils.
The Fire Fragment’s consciousness spoke inside his mind.
“𝘚𝘰… 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”
Ayato looked at his hand.
Fire appeared above his palm.
A tiny flame.
No larger than a candle.
Yet the air around it distorted instantly.
The flame possessed frightening density.
Ayato smiled slightly.
“𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦.”
The Fragment snorted.
“𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦.”
Ayato chuckled.
“𝘕𝘰, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦.”
The Fragment fell silent.
Because it understood what he meant.
For the first time.
Ayato wasn’t looking at fire as a weapon.
Or a tool.
He was looking at it as a companion.
𝗔 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗻𝗲𝗿.
𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲.
A sudden roar interrupted the moment.
The surviving monsters had finally recovered from their shock.
Hundreds remained.
Perhaps thousands.
The battlefield stretched endlessly.
A sea of claws.
𝗧𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗵.
𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱.
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗱.
One particularly large demon stepped forward.
It stood nearly 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹.
Its body resembled 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗿-𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻.
Four eyes glowed crimson.
Its massive mouth opened.
A roar exploded from its throat.
The shockwave shattered nearby trees.
Ayato stared.
The demon charged.
The earth cracked beneath every step.
More monsters followed.
Then more.
An entire horde surged toward him.
The Fragment laughed inside his head.
A deep ancient laugh.
“𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭?”
Ayato rolled his shoulders.
Fire flickered around him.
“𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵?”
“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵.”
The horde drew closer.
Hundreds of monsters.
Then the Fragment’s voice became amused.
“𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵.”
The giant demon arrived first.
Its enormous fist descended toward Ayato’s head.
𝗙𝗮𝘀𝘁.
𝗣𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹.
𝗗𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆.
Ayato didn’t move.
The fist came closer.
𝗖𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿.
𝗖𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿.
Then—
He raised one finger.
The monster’s fist stopped.
A wall of fire appeared.
𝗡𝗼.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹.
𝗔 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲.
The demon’s arm touched it.
Instantly—
𝗙𝗪𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗛!
The entire arm ignited.
The creature screamed.
Fire raced across its body.
Within seconds the giant monster collapsed into ash.
Silence followed.
Every monster stopped moving.
Ayato lowered his finger.
His expression remained calm.
“𝘏𝘶𝘩.”
He tilted his head.
“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺.”
The Fragment sounded offended.
“𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴.”
The horde attacked simultaneously.
Thousands of monsters rushed forward.
The battlefield shook.
Ayato inhaled slowly.
The air entered his lungs.
Then he exhaled.
Fire followed.
A river of flame erupted from his mouth.
Not ordinary fire.
Golden fire.
Brilliant fire.
Living fire.
The river swept across the battlefield.
Monsters disappeared.
Entire sections of the horde vanished instantly.
Nothing remained.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘀.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱.
𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘀𝗵.
Ayato blinked.
“𝘖𝘩.”
The Fragment groaned.
“𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 ‘𝘰𝘩’ 𝘮𝘦.”
“𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.”
“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.”
“𝘐’𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨.”
The remaining monsters hesitated.
Then they attacked again.
Ayato stepped forward.
His body blurred.
The ground exploded beneath his feet.
𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗠!
He appeared in the middle of the horde.
A 𝗮𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗵.
𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗱.
𝗧𝗲𝗻 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱.
𝗔 𝗸𝗶𝗰𝗸.
𝗔𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
𝗧𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱.
A swing of his arm.
A blade of fire stretched across the battlefield.
Dozens were sliced apart.
The fight became one-sided.
𝗡𝗼.
It became 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗲.
Ayato moved through the battlefield like a living disaster.
Every movement carried fire.
Every attack carried destruction.
The monsters could not touch him.
Could not surround him.
Could not slow him down.
The Fire Fragment watched with interest.
Because despite wielding overwhelming power—
Ayato never chased fleeing monsters.
Never attacked aimlessly.
Never burned the entire battlefield.
Every attack was controlled.
Focused.
Purposeful.
Exactly as he promised.
To protect.
Not simply destroy.
The Fragment remained silent for a long time.
Then it spoke quietly.
“𝘈𝘺𝘢𝘵𝘰.”
“𝘏𝘮?”
“𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴…”
A massive explosion interrupted the sentence.
The final wave of monsters collapsed.
Ash drifted through the air like black snow.
The battlefield had become unrecognizable.
Nothing remained standing.
Ayato stood alone amidst the destruction.
Breathing calmly.
Not a single wound on his body.
Not a single monster remained alive.
The Fragment finally finished speaking.
Its voice carried the faintest hint of approval.
“𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.”
Ayato smiled.
Then looked toward the distant horizon.
Far away.
Beyond the battlefield.
Beyond the mountains.
Beyond the endless beauty and darkness of the demonic world.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 were waiting.
𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗺 was waiting.
And somewhere out there—
The future was waiting too.
He closed his burning hand into a fist.
Flames wrapped around his fingers.
His eyes glowed brighter.
The weak warrior who entered the battlefield had died.
In his place stood something new.
Something stronger.
𝗔 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲.
𝗔 𝘄𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀.
𝗔𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗺𝘂𝗴𝗶.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗙𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗨𝘀𝗲𝗿.
And this…
𝗪𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴.