Suddenly, fog crawled up from their legs. Flesh-coloured fog, thick and heavy, red and grey twisting together like veins and ash. It swallowed the battlefield in a breath. Seas of flowers shattered into dust mid air; mountains crumbled soundlessly, reduced into drifting particles. Rivers froze, then broke into glittering fragments that rose upward as if gravity had inverted.
All those particles gathered.
They formed a colossal bud, bulb-shaped, grotesque, sitting on a concave cylindrical base of compressed fog. Red, white, and black currents streamed upward from below, feeding it like arteries. Inside the bud, no shapes were clear, only silhouettes. Two shadows colliding again and again. Each impact sent tremors through the fog, slicing it open, letting violent energy leak out and tear apart what little remained of the outer world. Entire seas vanished. Mountain ranges were erased. Flowers screamed as they dissolved.
Inside, the sound was unbearable.
Metal shrieked. Bones cracked. Breath tore. Laughter echoed, distorted and wrong.
Then, slowly the fog began to peel away.
First the upper layers thinned, drifting like burnt skin. The bud deflated, collapsing inward. When it finally vanished, only the lower haze clung to the ground like a dying organism.
The being stood first, hunched slightly. Its body was covered in countless cuts, deep, jagged wounds that should have been fatal. Black ichor oozed out, hissing as it touched the ground. Yet before the eye could blink, the wounds began to close, flesh knitting together with obscene ease.
Across from it, the boy stood unmoving.
White lines had appeared all over his body, thin at first, like chalk marks. Now they were cracking. Spreading. Veins of pale fracture ran across his skin, glowing faintly. There were no rings behind him.
The ground beneath his feet was shattered, layered with claw marks, blade scars, and symbols burned so deeply they seemed carved into the world's bones.
The balance had shifted.
The being straightened, rolling its shoulders. Power surged behind it as the nine rings reappeared, spinning faster than before, screaming as they tore at the air.
Behind that being's body, hands formed, many of them, unfurling from its back like blasphemous wings.
The boy did the same.
From his back, black ink bled outward, shaping into hands. Cracking veins were showing up more. Still, his eyes were calm, almost bored.
The being laughed harder. "Look at you. Cracking. Breaking. Still pretending you stand equal to me."
"Bow," the being said softly, cruelly. "Before I butcher you slowly."
The boy lifted his head.
"Shut up," he said hoarsely. Then his lips curved into something ugly. "Piglet."
The being froze.
"What… did you say?"
"Why are you so eager to butcher?" the boy continued, voice low, sharp. "Is this where the fun finally starts?"
For a heartbeat, the being said nothing.
Then it laughed.
A deep, thunderous laugh that shook the remaining fog loose from the ground. "You're already dying," it sneered. "And you still bark."
Suddenly, both women heads beside the being's main face opened their mouth.
Sound poured out, but it was not like sound, but a pressure. A scream made of layered voices, of grief, anger sadness, madness and hunger. The air warped violently, transforming into energy arcs, rushing toward the boy like a collapsing star.
The boy's pupils shrank.
In an instant, black and white energy erupted from his hands. They spiralled together, forming a spinning Taiji diagram before him. He slammed it forward.
The scream struck the diagram and bent.
It curved, split, and rebounded, tearing backward toward the being, shattering the fog behind it. The being's eyes widened slightly but calmed down as both women mouth opened again.
Petals poured out.
One stream was pink, soft, deceptively gentle. The other was black, threaded with writhing red vines that hissed like living veins. They cut through space itself, shredding the reflected attack.
The boy snarled, thrusting both hands forward.
The taiji diagram expanded violently, swallowing the petals. It grew, compressing everything into a churning sphere, petals, sound, energy, spinning wildly, barely contained.
The being staggered back, rings screaming as they resisted the pull. Its expression twisted in irritation laced with something darker.
How much power does this bastard have? it thought furiously. These two parasites are sucking my power like children licking candy.
Its lips curled. "Hateful little leeches."
The boy roared, veins glowing as he hurled the sphere forward.
But halfway through its flight—
It burst into a moon.
A pale, broken moon emerged, dragging a massive, twisted tree with it, roots wrapped around lunar stone, branches dripping shadows. Gravity distorted instantly. The ground buckled as the moon-tree descended, crushing reality beneath it.
The atmosphere changed suddenly.
........
Suddenly, the scenery collapsed inward and rewrote itself.
The shattered battlefield dissolved like wet ink, and in its place rose a single colossal plum blossom tree, its trunk pale as bone, its bark veined like exposed nerves. Countless branches stretched outward, heavy with blossoms that bled moonlight. Behind it, the moon climbed unnaturally fast, swelling into the sky until it hung vast and oppressive, its surface cracked like an old skull.
Night swallowed everything.
The sea below turned calm, too calm. Its surface was black glass, reflecting the moon and the tree perfectly, as if the world had been folded in half. No waves. No wind. Only silence.
The being threw its head back and laughed.
"Hahaha… hahahaha… at the end—at the very end—I won."
Its voice echoed across the still sea, reverberating inside the skull rather than the ears. "I told you. I told you I would destroy the next one by her own hands. Look. Look carefully."
Its laughter cracked midway.
From the woman's eye, one of the heads fused beside its own, water slid down slowly, cutting a clean path through dried blood. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out. Her face was frozen in the same regret she had worn that day, when a promise was broken and could never be repaired.
She stared at the boy.
Apology twisted her expression, but her body did not move.
Above the tree, petals thickened, spinning like a storm. From them, four faceless figures were born.
Two descended gently, feet brushing the branches, human forms, faceless, smooth like porcelain masks. Their robes were soft pink and deep blue, sleeves flowing like mourning banners.
The other two fell.
Their bodies twisted as they emerged—demonic forms, taller, sharper, clothed in black and blood-red. Their limbs bent at wrong angles, claws dripping moonlight, mouths split too wide though no faces existed.
The being spread its many arms in mock reverence.
"This is her most powerful manifestation—Fourfold Plum Requiem: Moon-Burial Sovereign Form."
It leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"In the past, I had to exhaust all my authority just to suppress her. Be honoured. Both of you."
Its gaze cut between the boy and the weeping woman.
"You will be destroyed by your savior… and by her repentance. Remember this—she was nearly invincible. The strongest I ever fought. There were moments I nearly begged for my life."
Its smile sharpened.
"So tremble now."
The boy exhaled slowly.
For a brief moment, tension flickered across his face—but then he smiled.
Beneath his feet, the air crumbled.
Particles poured upward from nothingness and settled under him, forming a small, dark sea, ink-black water churning with silent screams. From its surface, shapes climbed out.
One after another, armoured Samurai figures emerged, their bodies composed entirely of black-and-white ink. Their eyes were empty brush-strokes. Their armour dripped calligraphy. Behind them rose monstrous silhouettes, ink-beasts, twisted and half-formed, crawling from the same sea.
Ten samurai stepped forward.
Each took a stance.
The boy raised his hand slightly.
The being raised all of its.
Both spoke at the same time.
"Attack."
Ink soldiers surged forward. At the same instant, petals screamed through the air like blades.
The first collision was silent, then reality tore.
The First Ink Samurai slammed its foot down.
"Beast Scripture: Black Tortoise Devouring Heaven!"
Its body warped into a colossal ink-beast, jaws snapping, crushing dozens of petals at once.
A faceless human woman raised her sleeve.
"Plum Path — Gentle Snowfall Slaughter."
Soft petals drifted down… then pierced straight through the beast's skull, shattering it into ink rain.
The Second Samurai unfurled a scroll mid-air.
"Heavenly Calligraphy — Thousand Seal Suppression!"
Runes exploded outward, binding one demonic form in chains of scripture.
The demoness laughed—an echo without a mouth.
"Moon-Burial: Crimson Reflection Break."
Moonlight bent, slicing through the seals, severing the samurai cleanly in half.
Ink reformed instantly, but slower this time.
The Third and Fourth Samurai moved together.
"Twin Styles: Forest of Ten Thousand Brush-Strokes!"
A forest of ink-trees erupted upward, branches impaling the sky.
The human forms stepped lightly across the branches.
"Plum Sovereign Step, No-Shadow Crossing."
They vanished, then reappeared behind the samurai, blossoms erupting from inside their bodies.
Ink sprayed everywhere.
The atmosphere thickened. Petals poured endlessly from the woman's mouth, each bloom screaming softly as it formed. The moon pulsed, its light turning sickly.
The boy did not move.
Cracks spread across his body, crawling like spiders beneath his skin. Pus seeped out, evaporating before it fell. His smile never faded.
The being pointed at him, authority surging.
"Heaven-Demon Decree: Kneel Before the Rings!"
Invisible pressure crashed down.
The pressure struck the boy and reflected.
Like light hitting a mirror, it rebounded, tearing into the being's own ranks, crushing petals and ripping demonic forms apart.
Its eyes widened slightly.
The boy's eyes changed.
The whites flooded completely, pupils dissolving into nebula-like fractures, white galaxies spinning in black voids. The irises cracked outward, as if his vision itself were shattering.
More samurai fell.
More emerged.
Still, the four women advanced.
The demonic pair ripped through ink bodies effortlessly now, claws carving sigils into the air. The human pair danced through attacks, serene, merciless.
The being laughed again—but there was strain in it now.
"More," it commanded. "More!"
Petals thickened into storms. The samurai numbers could no longer keep up. Ink bodies were torn apart faster than they reformed. The sea beneath the boy boiled violently.
The boy finally spoke.
Softly.
"Continue."
His smile widened as another crack split across his chest, black light bleeding out.
The moon darkened.
The plum tree groaned.
And the battle escalated further, spiralling toward something far worse, far deeper, as the night itself seemed to lean closer, waiting for what would break first…
**********
**********
At the end, only one samurai remained.
Its ink body was already torn, brush-strokes unravelling, Around it, all swordsmen of petals closed in, human and demonic forms together, faceless, merciless. Their blades pierced from every direction.
"Plum Burial: Thousand-Blossom Nail."
Petals stabbed through the samurai's chest, back, skull, legs, pinning it in the air like an insect on that tori gate top part. Then its form collapsed inward, ink evaporating into nothingness.
Only the boy stood on the battle field.
His body began to fail visibly. From his legs, black ink poured out like pus from a ruptured wound. Flesh softened, sagged, cracked open. The ground hissed where the ink touched it.
Still, he smiled.
He lifted his head slowly, eyes fractured like broken porcelain stars.
"Do you know," he asked calmly, "why gods and demons introduced death?"
The being snarled, stepping forward, rings grinding like broken millstones. Its expression was impatient, cruel.
"Are you trying to delay your end?" it spat. "You are finished. Crumbling insects. I don't need your useless chatter. Death was created to kill heretics like you."
The boy shook his head faintly.
"No," he said. "If something begins… it must end. That is the rule of life. Of all life. Nothing is eternal, not gods, not demons, not hatred."
The being laughed sharply, but there was tension in its jaw.
"On your deathbed, you finally understand who was stronger." It leaned closer, eyes blazing. "You heretic. I will be freed from my curse… by killing you."
The boy stared at it blankly.
Cracks spread faster now—black fissures racing across his torso, ink bubbling out, dripping like rot. His breathing was shallow. Yet his smile did not fade.
Behind the being, the woman's head, one of the fused faces, twitched.
The being suddenly felt it.
Its energy was draining faster than before.
Nearly half of it was being siphoned away through that head. Its eyes widened. It turned slightly, seeing something impossible.
The woman was smiling.
A real smile.
Fear surged through the being. "No, no, not now! Demoness do something" it roared. Sweat poured down its many faces. "Before you die, last chance!" It thrust a hand toward the boy even though it was in distance. "I am a god! I can still show mercy! Give your technique to me now!"
The boy did not answer.
Without warning, the human petals with those shaped like women, attacked that being.
The demoness petals reacted instantly.
Black-red vines lashed out, impaling the human-petal forms mid-air.
"Moon-Burial: Scarlet Devourer Bloom."
The battlefield exploded into chaos again.
Human-petal women fought demoness petals, blossoms tearing blossoms apart. Limbs fell like broken flowers. The air filled with screams that overlapped into madness.
The being roared, veins bulging.
"What are you waiting for?!" it screamed at the demoness. "Kill her! Finish it!"
Red and black petals surged forward and stabbed the woman's head repeatedly, through the eyes, mouth, temples.
The demoness laughed softly, venomously.
"Enough," she whispered. "Cut her off. I have absorbed enough."
The being hesitated only a fraction of a second.
Then it snarled, grabbed the woman's head by the hair, and ripped it free from its body.
The sound was wet.
It hurled the severed head toward the boy like refuse.
"You bitch," it spat. "Even in death, you are a nuisance."
As the head flew, its eyes met the boy's.
A single tear slipped out.
She smiled.
Her form, head, petals, memory, began to dissolve, turning into pale light that drifted towards the moon.
The atmosphere changed.
He went toward her through in the midst of everything, drifting through ash and moonlight; caught her severed, spineless head. Her hair was soaked in black-golden blood. Her eyes were still open.
Tears slid out as they trembled, slow and heavy.
"I'm sorry…" her voice cracked, weak, almost gone. "I tried to delay him with my last energy. I couldn't… I couldn't do it. I'm sorry." Her lips quivered. "Go. You should live. Someone must live to see the sunlight again."
The boy smiled gently, so gently it felt wrong in this place.
"Everything will be okay," he said softly. "I'm not going to perish. And neither are you."
She stared at him, disbelief flickering in her fading eyes. Slowly, she smiled too, small, fragile, and then closed her lips as if accepting rest.
He caressed her forehead with trembling fingers. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I have enough."
At that moment, memory struck her like lightning.
Previous battles.
Other women and men like her.
Human forms that tried to help her.
Hands reaching out.
Promises she could not keep.
Her eyes widened in terror.
"Stop!" she screamed suddenly, voice tearing out of her throat. "Run! I can still defeat him—don't do this!"
But it was already happening.
From the boy's melting body, viscous liquid poured out, black and silver mixed, like dissolved ink and moonlight. It crawled upward, wrapping around her head. Her soul began to reform.
His body was collapsing faster now, skin sloughing off, cracks widening, ink spilling endlessly—yet he kept transferring energy into her, forcing her existence back into shape.
When the being saw it, for the first time horror split its many faces.
"No—no—NO!" it roared, rings screaming wildly. "You dare—!"
All petals turned at once. Pink, black, red, every petal sharpened into spears. They screamed as they flew, ripping through the air, and the boy stepped in front of her forming body without hesitation.
The spears pierced him.
Chest.
Arms.
Throat.
Legs.
At the same time, the being unleashed everything.
Weapons on its hands, halberds, chains, blades of authority, broken divine relics. All of them was torn free and hurled forward.
It impaled him on his own tori gate.
Blood and ink exploded outward, thick pus pouring from the wounds, flooding the base of the gate. The torii groaned as if alive, soaked completely in filth and divine ichor.
The being laughed, breath ragged, eyes wild.
"This is my domain!" it screamed. "I controlled everything from the beginning! I win! Your self proclaimed energy is nothing before me!"
Behind the boy, her reforming body flickered dissolved, slowly, into mist, vanishing like clouds torn apart by wind.
The being watched that the boy was still breathing.
Weak. Broken. Coughing.
His head lolled slightly. Blood bubbled from his lips.
A bloody conch sound echoed across the entire world.
To be Continued...