An unholy pulse glimmered through the haunted city, painting the battlefield in jaundiced light. Towers stretched high above, their jagged silhouettes slicing through smog and emptiness. For the combatants gathered far below, every breath was thick with the promise of violence—every heartbeat, a drumbeat echoing impending doom.
Entity 404 floated above the broken streets, his form flickering with a subtle distortion. His eyes, fractured orbs of obsidian and starlight, scanned the scene with feigned detachment. He longed to seem invincible, regal—a master in control of chaos. But the smallest crack in the city's shield betrayed the lie.
"These attacks…they happen, once in a while," his voice rolled, hollow and thunderous. "It is not something to be scared of."
Yet as the sound bounced from wall to wall, it fizzled and warped, sliced by erratic static. Even the shadows seemed to twist and recoil. Entity 404 felt the ancient anxiety gnawing at him, the way it always did whenever the Realm felt truly out of balance. He was cold, and for a demon as old as the night, that was terrifying.
Down in the arena, the finalists braced themselves. Team Akashi—Bachi, Kamiko, Kaguro, Kashimo, Alan—and their rivals Team Kerimi stood shoulder to shoulder, senses razor-edged. With every passing moment, the fabric holding back the Realm's violence seemed thinner.
Entity 404 tried to rally himself. He could not let them see him doubt. "It's the finals," he boomed, "Team Akashi versus Team Kerimi. A match to the death." His pronouncement carried on a swell of electricity. Even the air trembled. But as he enunciated each word, a chilling undertone crept in—his timbre distorted, as if something powerful was trying to force its way inside his own skin.
Lightning flickered, illuminating a city forever trapped between hell and the promise of heaven. Entity 404 summoned all his will and conjured a radiant shield at the city's heart—a sphere of light more brilliant than anything since the Realm's creation. Inside, the two teams watched its beauty, foolish enough to hope for safety. To them, it seemed as if they were gazing up toward salvation, though all around them hell awaited.
But neither hope nor protection proved solid for long. As the shield's magic surged, a low, seismic tremor rippled through the ground, rattling stone and spirit alike.
A cold wind swept through the haunted city, carrying whispers older than the Realm itself. High above the glow of the protective shield, the Midnight Demon observed the fragile defenses with a cruel smile. His claws scraped against the obsidian railing, eyes sharp and calculating.
"This is only the beginning," he hissed, voice slicing through the charged air. "Are you prepared to surrender the secret, 404? Or will you face the consequences?"
From a billowing cloud of shadows, another presence emerged—Entity 05. His form shifted, transforming from a vague silhouette into a towering figure clad entirely in blinding white, the embodiment of cold calculation.
Midnight's dark gaze fixed on his ancient enemy. "You, who once hunted me without mercy, I call upon now to be my ally."
Entity 05's voice was like the chill before a winter storm: "You seek my cooperation to destroy 404? Is this not forbidden by the sacred laws of our hierarchy?"
"The rules bend for necessity," Midnight replied smoothly. "Among these humans—our mortal foes—hide those declared 'chosen.' They have thwarted our plans, survived battles meant to break them. We cannot allow the truth of our hierarchy to leak through 404's desperation. We must silence him, by force or deceit."
Suspicion flashed in Entity 05's eyes. "And yet you call me friend. Why should I trust you?"
Midnight's smirk deepened. "Because enemies, forged by conflict, often prove more loyal than friends bought with smiles. I offer an alliance—tribes brought together not by sentiment, but by purpose. Together, we will crush 404 and preserve the order."
A heavy silence fell, as if the shadows themselves waited for the answer.
"I accept," Entity 05 finally said, voice dripping with reluctant conviction. "But know this: our bond is one of convenience. There can be no true trust."
The pact sealed, a malevolent alliance wove itself through the realm. Unseen, insidious forces crept—intent on unraveling the fragile veil of protection around the final fighters.
Back inside the shield, chaos erupted with merciless suddenness. Kashimo's head was severed in a blink, his life flowing out like crimson ink spilled onto the void. The arena shuddered with shock, and Entity 404 bellowed his fury.
"My soul is invaded…my body torn…but my will remains!" His voice thundered as he cast a complex charm—an ancient incantation in the forgotten tongue of Reamism that echoed like a dirge: Desania prolema Kashimo—"Deceased solution…Kashimo."
To all watching, death had come swift and absolute—but to 404's force of will, it was only temporary. Kashimo's chest heaved; wounds knit; life returned with the scent of blood and iron.
One by one, the fallen—Kamiko, Kenzo among them—were resurrected by the same dark spell. Each resurrection bore a toll unseen, shadows lurking beneath renewed flesh, a grim reminder that nothing returned unscarred.
Entity 404 fortified the shield anew, weaving power into a barrier unbreachable by mortal or demon alike. "This fortress shall hold," he proclaimed, breath ragged but voice resolute. "No harm shall cross its boundaries."
Yet beneath this fragile safety, anxiety festered like a wound left to rot. The question loomed: did fighting here mean salvation…or a prelude to annihilation?
The gong echoed sharply through the charged silence, a sound that carved time into fragments. Faces tensed, hands gripped weapons tighter. This was no ordinary combat—it was a clash of wills, a war fought both inside and out.
Kashimo versus Nagumo
For ten seconds, the fighters froze, locked in the grip of adrenaline's cruel stasis. Then, like a storm breaking, Nagumo lunged, blade flashing toward Kashimo's eyes. A hair's breadth from death, Kashimo dodged, breath catching.
The battle spiraled into chaos—slashes came fast and wild, but Nagumo's strikes had rhythm, precision. Kashimo's attacks were desperate darts, erratic attempts to find weakness.
Words cut sharper than knives.
"Ha! What do you think of me?" Kashimo spat, voice dripping with scorn.
"You're a worthless fool, swinging aimlessly," Nagumo replied coldly.
The taunt struck deeper than any wound. Kashimo's confidence buckled under the weight of the insult, his sweat burning his eyes. Rage flooded in—a dangerous, blinding force.
But that fury faltered when Nagumo's blade pierced deep—once in the stomach, then in the temple. Kashimo collapsed, his life extinguished as swiftly as a candlelight blown out by the wind.
Entity 404's voice cracked through the stunned silence: "1-0. Team Kerimi leads."
Kenzo versus Bachi
Bachi stepped into the ring, pain threading through every muscle from prior wounds. Kenzo, scholarly and sinister, sneered. "Your existence is a joke," he taunted, pacing like a predator.
Bachi's reply was fierce. "I'm living proof you're wrong."
The dance was lethal, a fluid exchange of blows and parries that tested not only strength but intellect. Both were masters—fighters as much of mind as body.
Bachi's gamble was simple and brutal: offer his own body, luring Kenzo into a lethal mistake. As Kenzo celebrated victory, Bachi vanished—only to reappear at Kenzo's back, blades ready.
A sudden, chilling strike ended the battle. Kenzo crumpled, shocked.
"1-1. The fight is even."
Kaguro rushed to Bachi's side, pressing a torn shirt to his bloodied side.
"Should I fight next? Alan's weakened."
Bachi shook his head, voice fierce. "No. I'll see this through."
Kamiko versus Itsuki
Their encounter was brutal ballet of violence—blows rained like thunderclaps, knives kissed bloodied flesh, neither backing down.
Kamiko's blade found Itsuki twice, but retaliation came swift and brutal—a kick followed by a deep stab to Kamiko's gut.
Both fell, broken but defiant. Moments stretched in suspended agony as observation turned to anticipation.
With a surge of desperate strength, Kamiko rose. A series of rapid punches felled Itsuki, rendering him unconscious.
Entity 404's voice thundered: "2-1. Can Team Akashi secure victory?"
Kaguro versus Hayate
The final duel summoned the sharp edge of fate. Hayate, lithe and lightning-fast, struck first—a near fatal slash grazing Kaguro's brow.
The two circled, predators sizing each other in a deadly game of patience and precision.
Kaguro noted the pattern beneath Hayate's speed—predictable despite its terror.
With calibrated mockery, Kaguro taunted, provoking frustration. "Speed means nothing if it's all you have."
Silently, Hayate charged. Kaguro vaulted above him in a soaring backflip, landing behind and plunging a blade into Hayate's windpipe.
Hayate crumpled, silence swallowing him.
"3-1! Team Akashi wins!" Entity 404 declared triumphantly.
The roar of the crowd was drowned out by the deep chiming of the realm's collapsing barriers.
Team Kerimi faded into ash, knocked from existence.
Team Akashi, battered but unbroken, stood within the glowing shield. Entity 404 closed his eyes, breath heavy.
He drew Kaguro aside. "You doubted, sensed a mystery beneath our world. The secret you seek is closer than you know."
Their eyes met, the weight of the unseen waiting to be unveiled.
The adrenaline faded, replaced by the acrid taste of exhaustion and triumph. Within the protective barrier's glow, Team Akashi gathered—breathing hard, drenched in sweat, blood mingling with tears and grit.
Entity 404 beckoned Kaguro aside, his gaze heavy with unspoken weight. The battle was won, yes, but the war's deeper wounds lingered beneath the surface—a secret coiled tight, waiting to unravel.
"You doubted," 404 said softly, voice threading through the cavernous silence. "You felt it—the fractures beneath our world, the distortion in Reamism's chant, the shift in accents. You were not mistaken."
Kaguro's eyes narrowed, heart pounding not from exertion, but from the dawning realization that the realm—the tournament, even the entities themselves—were masks layered one upon another.
"The secret you seek," Entity 404 continued, "is a truth hidden not just from mortals, but from many within our ranks. The structure of Fujism, the ancient hierarchy of demons—Madness is seeping in from beyond. The Unknown One stirs once more."
Kaguro's blood chilled. Whispers of an eternal rival to the Midnight Demon had long haunted legends, but the reality was far more immediate. That rival's emergence could shred this world—and theirs—into chaos.
"It's why the barrier's weakness grows," 404 warned. "Why attacks bypass our defenses. We are not merely fighting for victory in a contest. We are protecting a fragile peace—one that trembles on the brink of collapse."
As the words sank in, every member of Team Akashi felt the weight of destiny pressing down—fighters today, pawns in a cosmic game tomorrow.
Yet within that pressure lay their greatest vulnerability: the bonds between them, fragile but unbreakable. More than steel or magic, it was trust forged in blood that might turn the tide.
Entity 404's next words fell like a blade's edge: "Prepare yourselves. Our trials have only just begun."
Chapter 29 ends
To be continued