Since that day, the war against the Soul King had raged for a century, and it was far from over.
9,125 battles. 0 wins, 9,125 draws, 0 losses. A vicious tightrope walk where everything would be lost the moment either of us conceded even a single defeat.
"God... I just want to surrender..."
I want to pull a 'French.' You know—wave the white flag.
The Hundred Years' War was a French victory, so why does it feel like I've spent a century fighting only to end up in World War II?
Lying naked on the dirt floor, I tossed and turned while muttering nonsense before finally face-planting into the earth with a heavy sigh.
Since I opened my mouth while buried in the dirt, a mouthful of soil and grass rushed in. Naturally.
The scent of raw greenery and the grit of earth filled my mouth.
Not even a cow would eat a meal this shitty... With that thought, I rolled over onto my side.
Crunch, crunch... Chewing on the soil and grass, I blinked at the valley that had now become a massive, jagged fissure in the world.
I swallowed the mess in my mouth and let out another sigh. In the past, if even a speck of dust got into my mouth, I would've spat and gagged like a madman. Now, I felt nothing.
I like to think of myself as a sane person, but every time I realize things like this, I'm reminded of just how far gone I actually am.
In that sense, I really wanted to end this precarious tightrope walk as soon as possible...
"Hey, disciple... hurry the hell up..."
My disciple, who was supposed to be researching how to seal the Soul King... he's late. Very late.
Am I going to turn into a geezer before he gets here?
Maybe it's because I've done nothing but fight for these past 100 years, but I think I'm going senile. I can't stop talking to myself.
My body is perfectly fine, but my mind is fraying. It feels like my hardware is top-of-the-line, but I've been infected with some nasty mental ransomware.
I miss you, disciple...
Honestly, I didn't think about him once during all this time, but now that I actually need him, I'm feeling nostalgic.
'In that regard, I might be as cold as the Soul King.'
I brushed off the useless thought, sat up, and scanned my surroundings.
I've been waiting for a century, yet there's still no sign of that brat. I let out a long, weary sigh.
But seriously, why is he taking so long?
No joke, if he's any later, this world is going to be consumed beyond recovery.
It won't even matter if it's divided into the Three Worlds or not; it'll just collapse entirely.
I didn't realize this because I'm smart or because I have knowledge of the original series.
Crackle—
"Whoa, shit! Almost fell."
The damn ground is literally crumbling beneath me.
It's like... what was it? That old anime where they fight in a digital world? Like when data gets deleted and the world starts pixelating into nothingness—that's happening in reality right now.
"Get here already, please..."
I don't even know how much longer this world can hold on...
Sighing again—a habit that's become far too frequent lately—I avoided a sinkhole-like rift and lay down on a patch of ground that was still relatively intact.
"Oh, for God's sake. Why do you show up the second I lie down?"
Does this guy have some kind of clairvoyance?
Does he wait for the exact moment I try to take a breather just to mess with me?
This. This is exactly why I want to pull a 'French' and quit.
Every time I try to catch my breath, he finishes healing himself and creeps back over. Who would want to keep fighting like this?
"I guess I'm pretty incredible for doing this shit for a hundred years."
With a bitter smile, I stood up and warmed up my body as I always did.
Maybe because I'd fought over nine thousand consecutive battles, my joints felt stiff, but a little stretching loosened them right up.
If my body didn't recover this quickly, I probably would have lost at least once by now.
And that loss would have been my last.
"Alright... Round 9,126. The 1v1 grudge match against the Soul King. I'm sure it'll end in a draw again, but let's have a good one."
I was bracing myself, expecting him to open with a Reishi Cannon (I just gave it that name because he shoots Spirit Particles), but then I felt it.
Four familiar presences were approaching.
Tsunayashiro, Shihoin, Shiba, and Kuchiki.
It had been 100 years since I'd felt them, but perhaps because my life had been nothing but combat lately, I recognized them instantly.
"Finally, this tedious fight is coming to an end."
"...."
As I let out a sigh of relief and looked at the Soul King, he snapped his head toward the direction of the four ancestors.
It was obvious he was about to do something to them.
"Whoa there, where do you think you're going? The old folks should play with the old folks."
I shattered the translucent barrier in an instant, threw my arm around the Soul King's neck, and gripped his shoulder tight.
Sizzle—a sound like flowing electricity hummed as blue lines traced across the Soul King's shoulder.
What was that again? Blut Vene? Something like that.
I didn't remember the details perfectly, but...
"Don't give me that menacing look. You were the one who asked for this, remember?"
Truth be told, his face was as expressionless as ever, but I chuckled and slammed him into the ground.
At that moment, a burst of blue energy erupted from the Soul King's body in all directions.
"Argh! Holy—!"
I don't know what kind of power that was, but it was absolutely disgusting. The skin on both my arms, which had been holding him, was completely flayed off, leaving the muscle exposed.
It hurt like hell, but the only saving grace was that it stopped there.
If it had been anyone else, it wouldn't have ended with just their arms. They would have been reduced to a handful of ash before they could even react.
...Looking at the potency, I doubt even ash would remain.
"You were hiding this? You didn't show it even once until now, so why pull it out now?"
"...."
Right, no way he's going to tell me.
In the original series, if a character asked 'Urgh... what is this ability?!', the villain would happily blather on about it.
I guess that's the difference with the Soul King. I laughed at my own pointless thoughts and flexed my hands.
Squirt, squirt—the blood that was pulsing out with every heartbeat suddenly stopped.
I stopped the bleeding with pure muscle tension.
Doesn't make sense? It's an anime world; deal with it.
I clenched and unclenched my fists. I could still use them, but they weren't in any condition for a full-throttle exchange.
"Tch... can't use these arms for a while."
Muttering that, I looked back at the Soul King. The landscape surrounding him was completely warped, likely due to that energy burst from earlier.
How should I describe it? It looked like a corrupted image file. That's the feeling.
Honestly, it was terrifying. How much power did he use to make reality itself distort like that? And...
"Terrifying stuff."
What's even more terrifying is my body, which survived it.
Am I actually a monster?
Unbelievable. I gave a bitter smile at the renewed realization and let my arms hang limp at my sides.
Seeing that, the Soul King turned back toward the four ancestors. He seemed to think I was no longer capable of continuing the fight.
"That's hubris."
What do you think allowed me to move faster than sound and run alongside light itself until now?
My abilities? Teleportation?
No. It was my leg strength, honed to a sheer, pure absolute.
"...!"
I swung my leg at the Soul King with everything I had. It was a basic roundhouse kick—the absolute fundamental of fundamentals.
But its destructive power was beyond imagination. The Soul King's body folded like an old flip phone as he was sent flying into the distance, completely leveling a mountain upon impact.
"Legs have always been stronger than arms."
It had been a while since I used my legs for offense. Maybe I put too much into it; my ankle was stinging. Glancing down, I saw it was already quite swollen.
"Tenacious bastard. You even managed a counterattack in that split second."
I didn't know if he saw the future or if his eyes simply tracked the speed, but either way, he reacted.
I shook out my stiff ankle and crossed my arms.
"Does this count as 1 win for me?"
As I said that, the Soul King—who should have been sent flying—reappeared right in front of me. As if to say he would never acknowledge such a victory.
"Just let me win once, man. Isn't this enough?"
As I thought that, the Soul King reached his hand out toward me. I let out a sigh, assuming he wasn't going to let it go, but I immediately noticed something strange.
"?"
The blue lines from before weren't on his arm. And the power I felt was significantly weaker. No, to begin with...
'Is he... not using the surrounding Reishi?'
Usually, before the Soul King attacks, he subordinates the surrounding Spirit Particles, bending them to his will. That's why the environment shatters whenever he uses his power. But this time... he hadn't gathered a single particle.
No, perhaps he had stopped gathering environmental Reishi a long time ago.
When did that start?
'Right around when our fights crossed the 8,000 mark.'
It was right when the world began to dangerously crumble. Was the reason he attacked me every time I tried to rest simply to prevent me from having the time to realize this?
No, is that too much of a leap? But at least one thing was certain.
This bastard...
"Even without your consciousness, were you using your own life force to protect the world?"
"...."
Looking at the Soul King, whose skin had become as white as an unfinished porcelain mannequin, I let out a hollow laugh.
Except for his hair and eyes, he looked literally 'bleached.'
A person on the verge of death wouldn't look this pale. The end was approaching without hesitation.
"Why would you go that far?"
An end for a beginning.
I'd heard it many times, but it was still an inscrutable concept. The literal meaning was clear, yet the intent remained frustratingly vague.
"If you die like this, what does it achieve? You could just use your power to divide the Three Worlds yourself. Why are you so hell-bent on dying?"
Naturally, there was no answer.
Yeah. Of course there wouldn't be.
I was scratching my head in irritation and staring off into the distance when I heard the Soul King's voice.
"...You are the fifth."
"What...!?"
How? Didn't he say his self-awareness was gone? And the fifth? Wait, does that mean I'm...?
In an instant, an enormous amount of speculation filled my head.
"Why are you telling me that now—!"
I tried to ask, but the Soul King was no longer in a state to answer. Because a sharp blade had already erupted through the center of his chest.
"Seal [封]."
That blade had completely severed the Soul King's dying body from the world, fixing him in place.
I let my arms fall limp as I stared at the Soul King, who now looked exactly as he did in the original series.
"Self-centered to the very end."
I guess that's what it means to be a King. A magnificent bastard.
9,126 battles. 0 wins, 9,126 draws, 0 losses. In the end, it was a hollow result where no one claimed victory.
Would it have killed you to let me win at the end, you stingy prick?