The disciples stood at the portals, each one a gleaming gateway back to the physical world. Their training had ended, but the tension in the air was not release—it was anticipation.
Hiyori's gaze lingered on Zenith, steady and sharp, as if weighing him against some unseen measure.
"You've changed," he said at last. "I can see it in the way the air bends around you. The strength to face what lies ahead is finally yours. With the awakening of the sixth sense, mastery of the Oborowa Mandala has been etched into your very soul."
Hoshigami stepped forward, his presence as immovable as the mountains around them. Lithos lowered his head respectfully.
"Thank you," Lithos said. "For the training… and for the patience you've shown."
A rare smile touched Hoshigami's lips.
"Do not speak of it as though this is the end. Return, when fate permits. The spirit realm is vast, and if luck favors us, we may even uncover the truth of your birth. This world is far larger than you yet imagine."
Lithos nodded silently. But Hoshigami's eyes, like tempered steel, turned to Zenith.
"There is something you must know before you leave."
Zenith tilted his head. "Something… about the Mandala?"
"Indeed." Hoshigami's voice lowered, as though speaking into the depths of time itself.
"Long ago, when strife with the gods still burned across the worlds, each race sought a means to resist. What they unearthed was Grace—a divine authority, born not of divinity but of the miracle residing within an undying spirit's heart. Humanity's share of this gift was the Mandala. My lord once carried something akin to it, though Flow is never bound by reason. Perhaps the Mandala returns again and again, reincarnated into those with a will that dares to defy."
His gaze sharpened, as though piercing Zenith's very core.
"To bear the Mandala is to carry the title of Inochi no Daikan — the Grand Judge of Life. One who may stand in defiance even against the will of the gods themselves."
Zenith drew in a quiet breath. "…The Grand Judge of Life?"
Hoshigami inclined his head. "Do not mistake it for a mere weapon. It is complex, subtle, and dangerous. Even I have never witnessed its full measure, nor could I claim to understand it. Yet it has chosen you."
Before Zenith could respond, the sound of shifting air rippled through the realm.
The portals that shimmered before them snapped shut all at once.
From the far side of the field, a figure emerged—an immortal draped in majesty and disdain, followed by an army of armored spirit warriors. His name carried with it the weight of centuries: Bu the Immortal.
"You mortals who dared to violate the sanctity of our realm," Bu declared, his voice rolling like thunder, "shall face your punishment."
Hoshigami merely stepped aside. With a gesture of his hand, a throne of obsidian and light coalesced behind him, and he sat, crossing one leg over the other as if this were nothing more than entertainment.
"Everyone," he said to Hiyori and the disciples, "stand down. This battle belongs to Zenith alone."
The air grew thick with unease. Even Bu's soldiers shifted uncertainly, but the immortal himself only laughed.
"So this is your cruelty, Hoshigami. To pit a child against the Immortal Legion? I never did like you, and now I understand why."
Hoshigami rested his chin on one hand, unconcerned.
"Cruelty? No. This is necessity. Show them, Zenith. Show them what it means to be the judge of ideals."
Zenith's hand tightened around the hilt of his katana. A breath, slow and steady. Behind him, the Oborowa Mandala bloomed into existence, a circle of shadow and light that trembled the very space around it. Something ancient stirred within his soul, branding itself into eternity.
"Hangan no Kotowari…" Zenith whispered, his voice resonant, "…the Decree of the Judge."
A great black sphere unfolded across the battlefield, and every spirit warrior dropped to their knees as though pressed beneath an unseen weight.
"What is happening?" Lithos whispered, eyes darting toward Hoshigami.
"The judgment has begun," Hoshigami replied, his tone quiet, reverent.
Zenith's eyes closed. His voice carried not as speech, but as decree.
"You claim we have broken the laws of your realm. Yet we came not with blades drawn, but with intentions of peace. And still I see within your souls the will to commit evil, not from conviction, but because obedience has chained you. You kneel not to justice, but to an immortal who preaches violence as the only truth. You have marched into countless wars, slaughtered those who stood to protect what was rightfully theirs, and raised your weapons against the oppressed. Your sins have spoken."
A warrior cried out, voice ragged. "I cannot move—my Flow is draining away!"
Only Bu remained standing, encased within a radiant orb.
"As expected," Hoshigami muttered. "He shelters himself within a spiritual subspace. A clever trick."
Bu raised his hand. Water swirled and surged, forming into the wings of a colossal phoenix. With a piercing cry, it dove toward Zenith. Zenith leapt aside just in time, the heat of vapor searing his skin. The black sphere shattered—but not before every soldier in Bu's army lay unconscious, their Flow leeched dry.
The immortal's smile widened.
"Spirit Engulf: Spatial Dominance."
The realm bent. All space bowed to Bu's command. From every angle, orbs of searing light rained down. Zenith dashed between them, each step a blur, though beams still grazed and burned his flesh. Then suddenly, his body froze mid-stride.
"Did you think speed alone would save you?" Bu mocked. "I erased the very concept of space in that region. Did you not notice?"
A barrage of beams tore into him, blood scattering across the fractured earth.
(He's not erasing permanently…) Zenith thought, gritting his teeth. (No—it's more like he's rewriting the laws of space itself.)
Each attempt to advance was swallowed, looped endlessly back to where he had begun. Space itself betrayed him, splitting open with rifts that spat beams of annihilation.
"This man is insane!" Oborozuka shouted, unable to look away.
Hoshigami smirked faintly. "When I first arrived, they attempted the same tricks. My solution was simple enough."
Lithos blinked at him. "…You mean you just—"
"I beat the hell out of them."
Lithos could only stare.
Zenith's breath grew ragged as he dodged strike after strike. Frustration welled within him. "This ability… it's unbearable!"
And then, his eyes flared golden. The world shifted.
Koshin no Me — the Eyes of Immutable Truth.
Threads of Flow revealed themselves, weaving across space like divine inscriptions written into reality itself. His blade lifted, and with a single slash, one thread was cut. The law collapsed instantly.
Bu's expression faltered. "He is severing the laws? Impossible!"
Hoshigami's voice was calm, almost amused.
"The Oborowa Mandala is not simply power. It is the will to defy, made manifest. It grants its bearer the right to say: This shall not be."
Zenith's aura surged as he leapt skyward.
"Now," Zenith cried, voice echoing across the ruined land, "Tensei—Ryūkōzan!"
A golden arc of pure destruction erupted from his katana, tearing through Bu's barrier. The beam carved mountains in half, their peaks crumbling to ash beneath its radiance.
When the light faded, silence lingered.
From his throne, Hoshigami's lips curved in satisfaction.
"Yes… there is no doubt. He has been chosen. The one who judges. Zenith—the Grand Judge of Life."