The days dragged on, and Oza pressed Reji harder with every passing hour. He treated the boy not as a child, but as a weapon to be forged—pushing him past his limits until every muscle ached and his breath came in ragged gasps, leaving him utterly exhausted.
One night, Oza slipped away and traveled to the heart of the Luminary Kingdom, arriving before King Leonard's sprawling, towering castle. As he stepped across the threshold, his gaze turned frigid, a faint, menacing swirl of dark purple light flickering deep within his irises. His voice was low and heavy with authority as he spoke directly to the king.
"I have come to give you an order," he declared. "Burn Astral Virel City to ash. Slaughter every soul within its walls—leave not a single trace of anyone, save for one child: the boy with hair the color of dark green. Tomorrow night, you will strike. While you carry out the deed, I shall keep the boy deep within the forest, training him until he has no strength left to resist… while his entire world crumbles and dies."
King Leonard smiled, a cold, obedient glint in his eyes. "It shall be done exactly as you command, Lord Oza. Have no fear—we will not fail you."
Oza merely nodded, calm and unmoved, before turning and walking away, his presence vanishing into the night as if he had never been there at all.
Far off, outside his humble little cottage, Reji knelt with bright laughter, clutching a squawking young chicken gently in his hands. "Got you again, you little rascal!" he chirped, grinning from ear to ear. "You're so soft and cute… I think I'll make you my pet, even if you are just a chicken! Hehehe…"
Elsewhere, Oza's mind drifted back to Shougo. He had long planned to face him in battle, but once he had learned the truth of Shougo's passive intangibility, he realized it was a power almost impossible to overcome. For days, he pondered it, searching endlessly for even the smallest weakness.
And the more he understood it, the more terrifying it became.
Shougo's intangibility was unlike anything ever seen.
It was not mere phasing or evasion—it was the complete absence of vulnerability.
His very existence drifted perpetually just outside the rules that governed reality itself. Physical blows could not land; energy blasts passed through empty air; spiritual power could not even find a target to latch onto. Concepts, laws, and magic alike found nothing to anchor themselves to. Even abilities meant to rewrite fate, reverse cause and effect, erase existence, twist space, or reshape reality were rendered useless—for they all required one fundamental thing:
A valid object to affect.
Shougo never dodged. He never defended.
Attacks simply could not find a version of reality in which they were capable of touching him.
When a sword was swung, he existed in a state where that strike had never reached him.
When reality was rewritten, his essence slipped beyond the boundaries of the new order.
When fate itself was altered, he drifted free of every chain of cause and effect.
This power ran infinitely and automatically—no focus, no thought, no reaction needed. Even if his mind was sealed, his body frozen, or his consciousness utterly destroyed, his intangibility would continue to function independently, unshakable and eternal.
To any observer, it seemed like pure madness.
To reality itself, Shougo was a living contradiction—visible enough to be seen, yet absent enough to never truly exist within the world that sought to harm him.
There was no distance limit, for it did not create distance.
No speed, for it did not require movement.
No barrier, for it did not block anything.
He simply existed in a state where interaction with harm was impossible.
Because of this, most powers failed before they could even manifest.
The ability would seek its target… only to find that target did not exist within its field of influence.
And so it would fizzle away—not because it was resisted, not because it was overpowered, but because it had never found anything to strike in the first place.
Yet intangibility was not the only secret that chilled Oza's bones. He had also learned of Shougo's Forbidden Energy—and once he grasped its true nature, his confidence crumbled into silence and dread. The moment Shougo had explained what that power truly was, fear had taken root deep within Oza's soul. That was why he lingered, why he plotted and waited—he dared not strike until he found a way past both defenses.
Morning broke pale and clear as Oza arrived at the Stonefang Highlands. The villagers greeted him warmly, bowing and smiling as if he were their greatest hero. He smiled back, charming and gracious, yet within his chest burned a bitter, cold hatred. He despised their false courtesy—hated that they only ever smiled at him because they feared his strength, never knowing the darkness he truly carried.
When he reached the heart of the forest, he spotted Shougo sitting quietly beneath the shade of the trees. He wore a rugged wanderer's attire: a loose, sand‑toned poncho falling wide from a stiff, high collar fastened with two leather straps. Beneath its hem peeked cuffs of deep rust red, matched with worn olive‑brown trousers and tall, polished leather boots. Fingerless gloves of supple leather covered his hands—simple, functional, and built to endure long journeys through wild lands.
Oza approached with a casual grin. "Yo, Shougo! How goes it today?"
Shougo lifted his head, returning the smile gently. "I am well enough. And you? How was your journey?"
"Uneventful," Oza replied easily. "I'll make some coffee—enough for both of us."
"Thank you," Shougo nodded.
Later that afternoon, once Shougo had settled back inside his cabin to rest, Oza slipped away unseen and traveled straight to Astral Virel City, where Reji waited unaware. Shougo never suspected that Oza had another pupil hidden away, nor that every word Oza had spoken to Reji about a "helpful friend" had been nothing but lies.
"Yo, Reji!" Oza called out, his tone bright and enthusiastic as he strode toward the boy. "I've got a new technique for you! And wait until you hear this—you will learn to channel and control raw force through your kusarigama. Plus, an old master I know has granted you a new gift, similar to the Reikou style, but far sharper and swifter. He calls it Dexterity."
Reji's eyes went wide with shock and excitement, and he hopped from the ground, bouncing on his heels. "Really?! Can you teach me right now? And who is this old master?"
"His name is Master Fushi," Oza said, his smile twisting just slightly—dark, hungry, and utterly cruel. "And yes… we begin right this moment."
As the hours stretched into night, Reji slowly realized the truth. There was no mercy, no kindness, no patience. The training was brutal, relentless, and unending. Every blow, every drill, every command stripped away his hope until he finally understood: the man before him was no mentor. He was a monster.
Back in Astral Virel City, chaos erupted. The king's royal guards swarmed through the streets, torches in hand, setting homes ablaze and striking down anyone who tried to resist. Masaru's eyes flared in horror as he grabbed his sword, drawing it in a flash of silver steel. Beside him, Yuriko clutched their youngest son, Kenji, tightly against her chest.
Then a figure stepped from the shadows—a man named Zero.
His power surged outward, crushing every shadow cast by the light of the fires. Wherever darkness touched a person's silhouette, their soul was twisted into malice and despair, freezing their limbs and sapping their strength. Masaru struggled against the invisible grip, forcing his body to move despite the agony, and lashed out with a sweeping slash of pure light. The strike cut through Zero's influence, startling the assassin—he had not expected anyone to survive his Shadow Step.
Yuriko seized the moment. She quickly set Kenji down and tucked him deep inside a wooden closet, pressing a finger to her lips.
"Stay silent, Kenji… do not make a single sound," she whispered, voice trembling but firm. "No matter what you hear, no matter what you see… wait here. I promise I will come back for you, and for Reji too."
Then she drew her katana and moved with blinding speed, vanishing into the smoke to defend her home. Zero's power was terrible: so long as your shadow touched the light, your soul turned against you, and death followed before you could even raise a hand.
Masaru raised his sword once more, his voice thundering over the roar of flames. "You will not touch my family! You will not destroy my city! I swear I will protect it until my very last breath!"
Another slash of light erupted outward, shaking the ground itself like an earthquake. Far away in the forest, Reji felt the tremor deep in his bones, followed by a blinding flash that lit the night sky for an instant. He glanced toward Oza, who watched him with that same cold, pleased smile—and Reji's heart sank. He was so tired, so hollowed out, yet he bowed his head and forced himself to keep practicing.
By dawn, Astral Virel City was no more. Smoke billowed into the sky, and ash fell like gray snow. The royal guards began to withdraw, leaving ruin in their wake. Masaru lay motionless, his body severed in two where he had fallen, while Yuriko had been seized and dragged away, her screams muffled as she was violated and abused by the king's men.
Kenji, trembling in the dark, slowly pushed open the closet door and stumbled out, his small legs unsteady. When he saw his father's lifeless form, he let out a wail of grief that cut through the noise.
One guard heard it and turned. Yuriko, bloodied and broken, looked back in terror. "Please… please don't hurt him! He is only a child!" she sobbed.
The guard struck her hard across the face, silencing her. "Shut your mouth. We follow the king's orders—nothing more."
"I beg you!" she shrieked, tears streaming down her face. "Spare him! Do whatever you want to me—hurt me, use me, do anything… but leave my boy alive! Please!"
The man merely smirked and hauled her roughly onward. "You are far too noisy."
Meanwhile, the guard who had spotted Kenji marched over, grabbed the little boy by the scruff of his neck like a rag doll, and slammed his fist into his fragile body again and again, no mercy in his strikes. "Little brats like you need to learn to stay quiet!"
Kenji coughed, choking up blood, his cries fading to weak gasps—until the guard drove his blade straight through his chest.
In the forest, Reji could barely stand. Every limb shook, his vision blurred, and his lungs burned as if filled with fire. He dropped to one knee, gasping.
"Master… please… may I rest? Just for a little while?" he pleaded.
Oza loomed over him, expression unyielding and cold.
"Rest?" he repeated softly, his voice devoid of pity. "You will not rest until tomorrow night. And you will not sleep at all. Not until you break."