The Oni's crimson eyes gleamed, molten embers burning within. He slammed the polearm into the ground with a thud, the roots around him shivering at his command.
Takara lunged first. Her nagamaki blurred in a heavy sweep, the long blade singing through the air with force enough to cleave stone. But the Oni's clawed hand snapped up, catching the strike mid-arc. The collision sent shockwaves through the clearing, grass flattening under the weight of their clash.
"Stronger than before," Oliver's voice rumbled from within the Oni's chest. He shoved her back with a single push, sending her skidding across the earth, boots tearing gouges in the soil.
Kaede came from the side, her twin naginatas slicing like lightning. The steel sang, flashing in dazzling arcs, each movement sharp and practiced. Oliver pivoted, his horns scraping low branches as his polearm met both her weapons at once. Sparks showered, the Oni's strength dwarfing her—but her speed kept her alive, forcing him to adjust instead of simply crushing her.
Sana darted between them, a kunoichi's speed turning her body into a blur. She slid beneath the Oni's sweeping strike, her twin daggers flashing toward his exposed flank. The blade bit deep—only to strike bark instead of flesh. His skin had hardened like iron plating, layered with Qi.
He grinned down at her as she rolled away. "Good. But aim to kill."
The ground trembled as his roots surged upward, lashing like serpents. The girls leapt apart, each adapting, striking back with their weapons or dodging narrowly. The clearing became a storm of movement—steel against claw, root against flesh, Oni roars echoing against the shrill ring of blades.
Minutes passed, sweat slicking their brows, their eyes bright with the thrill of battle.
Oliver's body relaxed. The Oni shell pulsed once—and then his true consciousness shifted. The pavilion inside his sea stirred.
A gate shimmered open behind him, its doors carved with weeping sutras. From its cracks spilled pale, hollow-eyed ghosts, hundreds of them, their bodies trailing chains and ash. They wailed as they poured forth, circling the women, pressing their killing intent like an icy tide.
Takara's knuckles whitened on her nagamaki. Kaede braced her stance, lips set in a grim line. Sana exhaled slowly, blades ready.
Oliver crossed his massive arms, his Oni form looming above them, watching. "Show me how you face the dead."
The ghosts shrieked and surged. The clearing filled with clashes of steel and spectral flame as the women fought, striking the wraiths, their blades carving through the half-formed bodies. Some they destroyed with clean cuts, others clung like smoke, draining Qi with their touch. Their techniques flared—Takara's strikes heavy, Kaede's precise, Sana's swift and merciless.
One by one, the ghosts dissipated into nothingness, until only silence and ragged breathing remained.
Oliver's crimson gaze swept over them. His Oni lips curled into a sharp grin.
"Not bad," he rumbled, lowering his polearm. "But that was only the measure of your courage."
The earth quaked.
From beneath the peach tree's roots, a colossal shadow began to rise. Soil split, trees snapped, and the ground buckled as a giant skeleton tore itself free of the earth. Its ribcage stretched like the beams of a cathedral, its skull cracked but glowing with inner fire. It loomed above the canopy, higher than any beast they had faced before.
With a thunderous groan, the giant skeleton lowered its hands—two massive bone-palms, each large enough to hold them all. The Oni leapt effortlessly into one palm, his weapon resting across his shoulder. The three women exchanged looks, then climbed onto the other.
The skeleton's hands closed gently, securing them. Then, with slow, thunderous steps, it began to march. Each stride shook the earth, sending flocks of birds fleeing into the dawn sky.
From atop its palms, Oliver's voice carried across the trembling forest.
"Now," he said, eyes glinting with cruel an ticipation. "It's time for the real test."