The Swordsmith Village held its breath.
That was the sensation Karina woke to—an unnatural stillness, as if the valley itself had paused between heartbeats. The forges were quieter than usual, their fires banked lower. Even the wind seemed reluctant to move, sliding along the stone paths in cautious, whispering currents.
This was not peace.
It was prelude.
Karina rose from her mat before the first bell, Arcane Breathing already threading through her muscles in a controlled, alert cadence. The events of the council still reverberated in her thoughts—not as doubt, but as confirmation. Formalizing the synchronization had shifted the battlefield from the physical to the conceptual.
Muzan would not tolerate that.
She stepped outside just as dawn broke properly over the eastern ridge, pale light catching on the masks and rooftops of the hidden village. Mitsuri was already there, seated on the low stone wall bordering the training terrace, stretching with quiet focus.
"You felt it too," Mitsuri said without turning.
"Yes."
Mitsuri glanced over her shoulder, smiling faintly. "Good. I was worried I was just being dramatic."
Karina crossed the terrace, stopping beside her. "This stillness is engineered. Gyokko is preparing a large-scale manifestation."
Mitsuri's movements slowed. "Here?"
"Here," Karina confirmed. "And below."
Mitsuri straightened, eyes sharpening. "The core tunnels."
"Yes."
They stood together, watching the village wake reluctantly around them. No alarms yet. Gyokko was not interested in warning signs. He wanted confusion. Displacement. A spectacle.
A message runner arrived moments later, breathless.
"Kanroji-sama. Karina-san. Shinobu-sama requests immediate deployment to the lower forge network. Structural distortions detected."
Karina nodded once. "Acknowledged."
As they moved through the descending paths, the air grew denser, cooler. Lantern light flickered in uneven patterns along the carved stone corridors. The further they went, the more Karina felt the wrongness—space subtly misaligned, distances stretching or compressing by imperceptible degrees.
Gyokko was no longer probing.
He was constructing.
The lower forge network opened into a massive cavern—a lattice of platforms, channels of molten metal, and suspended walkways connecting ancient workstations. At its center stood a structure that had not been there before.
A shrine.
It was built of porcelain and steel, fused together in grotesque harmony. Unfinished swords were embedded along its surface like offerings, their blades warped, veins of ceramic growth pulsing faintly along the metal.
Shinobu stood at the cavern's edge, flanked by several elite guards. Her expression was taut, controlled.
"He's turned the forge into a focal point," she said as Karina and Mitsuri joined her. "A ritualized anchor. This isn't just corruption—it's amplification."
Gyokko's laughter echoed from within the shrine, smooth and delighted.
"Oh, bravo," he crooned. "You arrived right on time. I was beginning to worry my audience would miss the performance."
Porcelain rippled.
Gyokko emerged—not fully, but far more than before. His upper torso rose from the shrine's core, multiple arms unfurling, eyes gleaming with manic intelligence. The structure responded to his presence, channels of molten metal flaring brighter as if feeding him.
Mitsuri's grip tightened on her blade. "He's using the forge to reinforce his body."
"And to broadcast influence," Karina added. "A village-wide distortion field."
Gyokko's eyes fixed on Karina instantly. "Ah, anomaly. And her counterpart. How delightful of you both to come."
Shinobu hissed under her breath. "He's baiting you."
Karina stepped forward regardless. "State your objective."
Gyokko chuckled. "Straight to business. Very well. I wished to test a hypothesis."
The shrine pulsed.
The embedded swords began to sing—a discordant chorus that reverberated through the cavern, setting Karina's Arcane senses ablaze. The sound carried intent, laced with demonic influence.
"Hypothesis?" Mitsuri demanded.
Gyokko's grin widened. "Whether your precious synchronization survives externalization."
The cavern lurched.
Suddenly, the space fractured—not collapsing, but multiplying. Platforms duplicated, corridors branching impossibly. Reflections of Karina and Mitsuri appeared along the periphery, distorted but active, mimicking their stances with unsettling accuracy.
"Mirror constructs," Karina said. "He's projecting behavioral copies."
"Precisely!" Gyokko clapped his hands together, delighted. "If your bond is power, then let us see how it fares when replicated… without consent."
The copies attacked.
Mitsuri reacted instantly, her Love Breathing cutting through the nearest construct, but the thing did not bleed—it refracted, splitting into two lesser forms that rushed her from opposing angles.
Karina moved to intercept—
—and the floor shifted.
Space folded between them, sliding Karina several meters away despite her forward momentum. The separation was brief but deliberate.
Gyokko laughed. "Ah-ah. No shortcuts."
Karina adjusted mid-step, Arcane Breathing surging as she severed the distortion holding her at bay. She cut through the space itself, forcing a path back toward Mitsuri.
Too slow.
One of the constructs lunged, its blade scraping Mitsuri's shoulder, tearing fabric and skin alike. Blood blossomed—real, vivid.
Mitsuri gasped but did not cry out. She retaliated, blade whipping in a furious arc that obliterated the attacker entirely.
Karina felt the injury like a spike through her own chest.
Arcane output surged dangerously.
"No," Karina said sharply—to herself more than anyone else. "Control."
Gyokko noticed immediately. "There it is! Emotional surge! How exquisite."
Karina forced her breathing into rigid structure, locking the surge into form rather than release. She reached Mitsuri in a blur of motion, placing herself between her and the remaining constructs.
"Can you fight?" Karina asked, voice low, urgent.
Mitsuri nodded, teeth clenched. "It's shallow. I'm fine."
"You are not fine," Karina said. "But you are functional."
Mitsuri gave a strained smile. "You always know what to say."
They stood back-to-back as more constructs emerged, the shrine pulsing brighter with each manifestation. The distortion field intensified, pressing down on Karina's senses like a vice.
This was Gyokko's design—not to defeat them outright, but to force instability through repetition, injury, and separation.
Shinobu's voice echoed from the cavern edge. "We can't get close! The field is repelling us!"
Karina understood then.
This was not a battle meant to be won through conventional means.
It was a stress test.
Gyokko wanted to see what broke first—the synchronization, or the individuals sustaining it.
Karina made a decision.
"Mitsuri," she said, turning her head just enough to meet her gaze. "I am going to invert the Arcane field."
Mitsuri blinked. "Invert—wait, that could—"
"It will externalize the bond," Karina continued. "Make it visible. Tangible. He will target it directly."
Mitsuri's breath caught. "And if it destabilizes you?"
Karina's eyes were steady. "Then you will anchor me."
Silence stretched between them for half a second—long enough for the weight of trust to settle fully.
Mitsuri nodded. "Do it."
Karina inhaled deeply, drawing Arcane Breathing beyond its usual operational ceiling. The air around them shimmered, reality thinning like stretched glass.
Fourth Form: Arcane – Resonant Inversion.
The world rang.
An invisible lattice snapped into place around Karina and Mitsuri, lines of distorted light connecting them in a geometric pattern that pulsed in time with their combined breathing. The constructs froze, their movements stuttering as the inversion disrupted Gyokko's control.
Gyokko screamed—not in pain, but in outrage. "No! That connection is internal! You cannot—"
"—externalize it?" Karina finished coldly. "You underestimated my adaptability."
The lattice tightened, collapsing inward, crushing the mirror constructs into shards of inert ceramic that rained harmlessly onto the stone.
Mitsuri felt it then—not as power, but as clarity. Karina's presence was no longer just beside her; it was with her, reinforcing, stabilizing, mutual.
Gyokko recoiled, his form flickering violently. "This isn't possible. Bonds are exploitable! They fracture!"
"Only when one party bears the weight alone," Mitsuri said, voice fierce despite the blood soaking her sleeve. "We don't."
Karina advanced, blade raised. The shrine cracked beneath Gyokko's retreating form, fissures racing across its surface.
"This structure will collapse," Karina said. "Withdraw."
Gyokko's laughter turned shrill. "Oh, I will. But know this—Muzan-sama will not allow this anomaly to persist."
His form dissolved into shards of porcelain and smoke, the shrine shuddering violently as the demonic energy sustaining it unraveled.
Shinobu shouted orders as the cavern began to destabilize. Guards rushed forward, evacuating the area as molten channels flared dangerously.
Karina sheathed her blade only after ensuring Mitsuri was steady on her feet. She placed a hand at Mitsuri's back, supporting her without hesitation.
Mitsuri leaned into the contact briefly, then straightened. "So," she said weakly, attempting levity, "I anchored you. Did I pass the test?"
Karina looked at her—really looked at her. Bloodied, breathing hard, eyes unwavering.
"Yes," Karina said. "You exceeded it."
The cavern shook one final time as the shrine collapsed fully, molten metal pouring harmlessly into containment channels designed for far less dramatic failures.
The threat had withdrawn.
But the message was clear.
Gyokko had confirmed what Muzan feared.
This bond was not a weakness to be exploited.
It was a convergence point.
And next time, the demons would not test it.
They would try to erase it.