The ruins welcomed them back like a dying beast—breathing smoke, coughing flames. Nogare and Kaito moved through the cracked streets without a single wasted breath, two silhouettes sliding through a battlefield already half-dead. They weren't here to wage war. That part was done.
They returned for something far stranger and far more dangerous.
Weapons of kings.
They crossed the northern quarter where the buildings leaned against each other like exhausted soldiers. Kaito's voice came quiet, almost thoughtful.
"The Kobold King… I remember a shield and sword. Small but tough."
A tremor rolled across the stone. Pebbles jumped. Dust swirled.
That was no shield. And the silhouette stepping out from the ruin haze no longer matched the memory.
A hulking kobold—towering, mutated, dripping with heat—dragged two greatswords behind it, metal screaming along the floor.
Kaito grinned. "Guess he upgraded."
Nogare didn't reply. His hand rested lightly on his blade, gaze measuring the creature's weight, breath, timing—its fate.
The Kobold King roared and charged.
Kaito answered with steel.
Their first clash split sparks across the smoke. Kaito's stance tightened, his muscles humming with brutal confidence. The greatswords were huge, but the king swung them like extensions of fury itself. Steel rang. Stone cracked.
For a moment, Kaito almost laughed.
"This is more like it."
But Kaito wasn't alone. Nogare moved without sound, stepping through the distorted heat the monster produced. He watched not the creature's arms, but the faint twitch of tendons beneath its thickened skin. A microscopic tell—barely a tremor.
"Now," Nogare whispered to himself.
Limitless Future – Mortal Recoil.
He slipped past a swing that could split boulders, blade shimmering like a disturbance in time, and cut upward with a single precise recoil of fate.
The Kobold King howled as its right wrist flew off in a spray of black-red blood.
One sword crashed into the rubble.
A voice erupted from behind them, loud and delighted.
"THAT'S MINE!"
Zentake sprinted into the battlefield, half-mad from adrenaline and opportunity. He dove toward the fallen greatsword and snatched it up as if collecting a rare mushroom.
He spun once, laughing.
"Treasure day!"
Kaito took advantage immediately, pressing the attack. His swings landed harder now—the king forced into wide, clumsy arcs with its remaining weapon.
Nogare stepped back, reading the battlefield with frightening calm.
More footsteps—dozens.
Kobolds and ogres converging.
Zentake saw them too.
"Oh, guests. Perfect."
He tossed small explosives from his sleeves. The ruins flashed with brief firebursts, scattering rubble, slowing the horde.
But the Kobold King wasn't done. It lunged in a desperate downward strike.
Nogare blurred forward.
Limitless Future – Rending Verdict.
A ranged slash carved itself through the air, slicing space like paper. The blade slipped clean through the king's left arm.
The second greatsword thudded to the earth.
Zentake screamed with triumph and scooped it up instantly.
"I'm rich! I'm SO rich!"
He now held a sword in each hand, wobbling under their ridiculous size.
Behind them, ogres roared and advanced.
"Pocket Sandstorm!" Zentake shouted, scattering a handful of gritty dirt he had apparently collected during gods-know-when. The wind swirled unnaturally. The sand bit into the eyes of the kobolds and ogres, throwing them into chaos.
Kaito stepped before the armless king.
The creature roared, stumbling, half-collapsing.
Kaito raised his weapon, aura igniting.
Saigo no Kirifuda.
Final Trump Card.
The Kobold King's head flew into the firelit air, spinning before crashing among the stones.
For one breath, silence.
Then the ground trembled far deeper… far heavier.
The Ogre King thundered into view—massive, towering, skin cracked like ancient stone. Its roar shook ash from the ruined walls.
Zentake hugged his loot. "We should leave."
Nogare's voice stayed calm.
"This one is beyond the three of us."
But Zentake's eye tracked the giant club the Ogre King held—a monstrous slab of metal and bone.
He exhaled sharply.
"We only need the weapon anyway."
He darted forward.
Zero Roshisutairu – The Final Claim.
The world bent for a heartbeat. Light smeared. Zentake vanished—then reappeared behind the Ogre King, triumphantly holding the stolen club almost twice his size.
"RUN!" Nogare ordered.
Zentake unleashed another sandstorm behind them, blinding the entire mob.
The three sprinted through narrow alleys, Nogare leading with impossible precision, Kaito crushing obstacles without slowing, Zentake cackling with loot clattering on his back.
The burning ruins opened into the southern outskirts. Smoke thinned. Wind returned.
Beneath a jagged cliff, they finally spotted them—Ryuji and Hana resting, weapons on their laps, the last peace within the warzone.
Nogare didn't even pause.
"Everyone—move. We're leaving."
They turned south.
Behind them, Bustleburg still burned, flames clawing at the sky like a grieving beast.