Tetsuo lay motionless in the flooded street.

The crimson barrier above them continued to pulse, painting the ruined district in a sickening red glow while Suzu moved through the battlefield with the same empty expression she had worn since reforming. Blood spread slowly around Tetsuo, darkening the surface of the floodwater, while Shunjiro stood several yards away with both wrists bleeding and his legs barely supporting his weight.

He could not reach him.

Every time he tried to move forward, Suzu forced him back.

A blood blade whipped toward his throat, and Shunjiro raised his forearm just in time. The attack sliced into his wrist instead of his neck, reopening the wound there and sending pain through his entire arm. He staggered sideways, teeth clenched as another blade came for his thigh. Aiko swapped him away at the last possible second, pulling him out of the attack’s path and placing him behind a pile of shattered stone.

“Stop rushing her!” she shouted.

Shunjiro landed badly, nearly collapsing as pain tore through his injured legs. “Tetsuo is still out there!”

“I know!”

Aiko’s voice cracked as she said it.

She looked toward the flooded street where Tetsuo had fallen, but Suzu stood between them. The Blood Witch did not even glance at him anymore. Her attention had already shifted to the fighters still standing, as though Tetsuo had stopped existing the moment he could no longer move.

That was what made it unbearable.

Yoshinori stepped into view beside Shunjiro, one hand pressed tightly against his bleeding shoulder while lightning gathered around the other. The energy was weaker than it had been before, unstable and flickering through his fingers, but his eyes remained sharp.

“We can’t get to him until we force her back,” he said.

Shunjiro turned toward him, rage twisting across his face. “Then force her back.”

Yoshinori’s expression hardened. “I’m trying.”

He lifted his hand and lightning gathered around it, forming into a jagged blade that extended from his grip. The weapon was brighter than the lightning he had used earlier, but it came at a cost. His arm trembled beneath the strain, and blood continued to run down from the wound in his shoulder, slipping across his sleeve and dripping into the water.

Suzu moved toward them.

Yoshinori met her first.

He rushed forward with the lightning blade raised, water exploding around his legs as he crossed the distance. Suzu formed a curved barrier of blood in front of her, but Yoshinori cut through it before the defense could fully harden. Electricity tore through the crimson construct, and the blade continued toward her neck. Suzu leaned away at the last moment, allowing the strike to carve across her shoulder instead.

The smell of burning blood filled the air.

Yoshinori did not stop. He swung again, then once more, driving Suzu backward with a series of desperate strikes. His lightning blade flashed through the red-lit darkness, cutting through blood barriers, breaking apart blades, and forcing Suzu to retreat several steps. Every movement looked painful. Every swing dragged at the wound in his shoulder. But Yoshinori kept attacking because he understood what Shunjiro could not accept.

They needed room.

They needed one opening.

They needed to get Tetsuo out before Suzu decided to use him against them.

“Now!” Yoshinori shouted.

Aiko lifted her shaking hand.

The air twisted around Shunjiro, and he vanished from behind the rubble. He appeared beside Suzu with his fist already drawn back, spiritual energy flaring wildly around his arm. The force inside him was unstable, surging too hard and too fast, but he did not care. He drove his fist into Suzu’s chest with enough power to send a burst of pressure across the flooded street.

Suzu slid sideways through the water.

Aiko swapped Yoshinori away from a blood spear aimed at his chest and placed him behind Suzu instead. He swung his lightning blade downward, cutting across her back and sending a spray of blood into the air. Suzu twisted toward him, but Shunjiro came in again from her side, striking at her face. She caught his wrist, and pain exploded through his injured arm as her grip tightened.

Then a wall of ice erupted between them.

Yuki stood farther back near Lars and Sora, both of whom remained down near the edge of the battlefield. Lars still clutched his reopened chest wound, barely conscious, while Sora’s body was covered in cuts from Blood Sickles. He had survived the attack, but the effort of adapting to it had left him struggling to remain awake. Yuki’s attention shifted between keeping them alive and keeping Suzu away from the remaining fighters.

The ice wall shattered almost immediately under Suzu’s blood.

But it created enough distance for Shunjiro to rip his wrist free.

“Ryuji!” Aiko shouted.

Everyone turned.

Ryuji had pushed himself away from the wounded group and was limping through the floodwater toward Tetsuo. His face was pale, and one hand remained pressed against his side, but he kept moving anyway. Aira called after him from behind the broken wall where the injured had gathered, her voice sharp with panic.

“Ryuji, don’t!”

He did not look back.

“If he stays there, she’ll kill him for sure,” Ryuji shouted over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving him!”

His skin began to harden around his arms and shoulders as he reached Tetsuo’s body. The power was weaker than usual, flickering and uneven, but it gave him just enough protection to survive the debris and blood slicing through the flooded street.

Ryuji dropped beside Tetsuo.

For a second, he stared at him.

Tetsuo did not move.

The left side of his face was covered in blood. His body lay limp in the water, one hand half-submerged and unmoving while the shattered remains of his stone armor rested around him.

Ryuji swallowed hard.

“Come on,” he muttered, grabbing Tetsuo beneath the arms. “Don’t do this.”

Then he began dragging him backward.

The effort nearly broke him.

Tetsuo was heavy, and Ryuji was already injured badly enough that every movement sent pain through his body. His hardened skin cracked as he pulled Tetsuo through the water inch by inch, but he refused to release him. Aiko and Yoshinori forced Suzu back as best they could, buying him seconds whenever they found them.

Those seconds were all Ryuji had.

Daichi watched from near the wounded group.

He had remained beside Roki after being talked down earlier, his body exhausted and his injuries worsening by the minute. But as he watched Ryuji drag Tetsuo away from the center of the battlefield, something inside him finally broke.

They were fifteen.

All of them.

And they were still fighting.

Daichi pushed himself to his feet.

Aira noticed immediately. “Daichi.”

He did not answer.

“Daichi, sit down.”

His legs shook beneath him, and blood still ran down from the injuries across his body. He could barely stand, but he stepped forward anyway.

Rei lifted her head weakly from where she sat against the broken wall. “You can’t go back out there.”

Daichi looked at the battlefield.

“I know,” he said.

Then he took another step.

Aira’s voice rose. “You’ll die.”

Daichi stopped for only a moment.

His shoulders trembled as he stared at Shunjiro, Yoshinori, and Aiko fighting the Blood Witch while Ryuji struggled to pull Tetsuo’s silent body to safety.

“I can’t keep watching children die in front of me,” he said quietly.

No one answered.

There was nothing anyone could say.

Daichi clenched his fists and limped into the battlefield.

Suzu noticed him almost immediately.

Her gaze shifted toward the injured man moving through the water, and blood began gathering beneath her feet. Shunjiro saw it and tried to move between them, but Suzu attacked first. A dozen blood spikes erupted from the ground around Daichi, forcing him to throw himself sideways. One sliced across his side. Another grazed his leg. He hit the water hard, but somehow rolled back onto his feet before the next wave could reach him.

“Daichi!” Yoshinori shouted.

Daichi wiped blood from his mouth and glared at Suzu. “Keep fighting!”

He charged.

There was nothing graceful about it. No impressive technique. No hidden power. Daichi ran toward Suzu with whatever strength remained in his body, throwing himself into the fight because he refused to stand back any longer. Suzu raised a blade toward him, but Shunjiro intercepted the attack with both arms crossed in front of his body. The blood sliced into his wrists again, but he held his ground long enough for Daichi to reach her.

Daichi drove a heavy punch into Suzu’s stomach.

The impact was not enough to knock her down, but it was enough to make her shift backward.

Yoshinori used the opening.

Lightning burst from his blade as he slashed across Suzu’s arm, cutting through blood and flesh at the same time. Suzu retaliated with a wave of crimson blades, but Aiko swapped Daichi out of the path and placed him near Shunjiro. The two of them stumbled apart while Yoshinori continued pressing forward, refusing to allow Suzu the space to regain her footing.

For several moments, they had her moving backward.

Shunjiro saw the opening and lost himself in it.

He rushed forward before Aiko could stop him.

“Shunjiro, wait!” Yoshinori shouted.

But Shunjiro did not listen.

All he could see was Suzu standing between him and Tetsuo. All he could think about was the body Ryuji was still dragging across the battlefield. All he could feel was the fury building inside him, swallowing every thought that should have told him to slow down.

Spiritual energy burst from his body as he crossed the distance.

Daichi shouted something behind him. Yoshinori tried to catch up. Aiko raised her hand, ready to swap him out if Suzu committed to an attack.

Suzu waited.

That was the mistake.

She let Shunjiro get close enough to believe he had her.

He pulled back his fist, spiritual energy gathering around it in a violent pulse. His entire body leaned into the strike as he aimed for Suzu’s chest.

Then the blood beneath the water moved.

A blade rose from the flooded street so quickly that no one saw it form, and before Shunjiro could react it cut cleanly across his waist. For a moment he didn’t understand what had happened. His fist was still drawn back, his eyes still locked on Suzu, as though his body had not yet caught up to the attack. Then a burning pain tore through him. He looked down and saw blood already spreading through the floodwater around his legs, and the realization struck all at once.

He had been cut.

His knees buckled. He tried to stay standing, forcing his body to obey, but the strength left him before he could recover. He collapsed into the floodwater, the sound of the splash seeming impossibly small against the chaos of the battlefield.

No one moved.

Yoshinori’s lightning blade flickered.

Aiko’s hand lowered slowly.

Daichi stood frozen several steps away, his face pale beneath the blood and dirt.

Even Suzu paused for less than a heartbeat, crimson eyes staring down at the body she had just dropped.

Then she attacked again.

A wave of blood blades rushed toward Yoshinori, Aiko, and Daichi all at once.

Yoshinori reacted first, throwing himself in front of Aiko and cutting through the nearest blades with his lightning sword. The attack tore across his arm anyway, forcing him to stumble as pain exploded through his arm. Daichi grabbed Aiko and pulled her backward just as a blood spear erupted where she had been standing.

“Move!” Daichi shouted.

Aiko did not move.

Her eyes were fixed on Shunjiro’s body in the water.

“Shunjiro…” she whispered.

Across the battlefield, Sora’s head snapped toward the place where Shunjiro had fallen.

For a moment, he looked frozen.

Then the sound tore out of him.

“SHUNJIRO”

The scream echoed across the flooded ruins, raw and desperate in a way none of them had ever heard before.

Yuki’s eyes widened.

Aiko turned toward him in shock.

Even Yoshinori glanced over for a split second.

Sora had never called him that.

Not once.

To Sora, he had always been shrimpy. An annoyance. A reckless idiot who kept throwing himself into danger. The nickname had survived every battle, every argument, every moment they had shared.

But now, with Shunjiro lying motionless in the water, Sora screamed his real name as if refusing to let him disappear.

Across the battlefield, Itsuki finally looked up.

Until that moment, she had remained exactly where Shunjiro had left her. She had sat in the floodwater with her head lowered and her empty eyes fixed on nothing while the battle raged around her.

Her eyes suddenly focused and her lips parted slightly.

“Shunjiro…”

The name came out so softly that it nearly disappeared beneath the sound of battle.

Then she stood.

Her movements were unsteady, almost mechanical. She stumbled through the water toward him, one step at a time, her face blank and broken as though she still had not fully understood what she was seeing. She did not scream. She did not cry. Her body simply moved because something deeper than thought had pulled her forward.

Yoshinori saw her coming and felt his chest tighten.

“Itsuki, don’t-”

But she kept walking.

Suzu’s attention remained on the fighters still standing. Yoshinori, Aiko, Daichi, Sora, and Yuki were all that remained between the Blood Witch and the rest of the wounded, and Suzu drove them backward with a storm of blades and spikes. Yoshinori barely managed to block each attack with what remained of his lightning. Aiko kept swapping them out of killing blows, though her trembling hands made every movement slower. Daichi fought beside them with blood running down his side, throwing himself into danger whenever Suzu tried to create an opening. Sora stood at the front whenever he could, using his barrier to absorb attacks that would have torn through the others, while Yuki raised walls of ice and launched frozen spears to slow Suzu’s advance, even as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her.

That chaos gave Itsuki enough time to reach Shunjiro.

She dropped to her knees beside him.

For a moment, she simply stared.

The water around his body had turned dark. His face was pale. His eyes were closed. He did not move.

Itsuki reached toward him with shaking hands.

Her fingers pressed against his chest.

“Please,” she whispered.

Spiritual energy should have gathered around her palms.

It always had before.

She had healed broken bones, deep wounds, poisoned bodies, and injuries that should have killed people. Healing was what she did. It was who she was. Even when she was afraid, even when she was exhausted, even when she believed there was nothing left inside her, she had always been able to reach for that power.

Now nothing came.

She stared at her hands.

No glow appeared.

No warmth spread through her fingers.

No spiritual energy answered her call.

Itsuki tried again.

Her hands trembled harder as she pressed them against Shunjiro’s body.

“Please,” she said again, quieter this time. “Please…”

Nothing.

The realization reached her slowly.

All of it was gone.

Not low.

Not exhausted.

Gone.

The black butterfly had healed her body. It had given her enough strength to fight Suzu. It had taken every last piece of spiritual energy she had in return, leaving nothing behind for the person she needed to save most.

Itsuki’s hands fell into the water.

She sat beside Shunjiro’s body as the truth settled over her.

Suzu was still standing.

Her sister was gone.

Tetsuo had fallen.

And now Shunjiro, the last person she had left to love, had died in front of her eyes.

Tears returned to Itsuki’s eyes.

She only sat there beside him, silent and empty, while the battle continued around her.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Kaito reached the Coastal Kingdom long after the battle had already begun.

From the upper roads leading into the city, the third layer looked nothing like the bright residential district he had expected to find. The streets were crowded with frightened civilians who had been forced out of their homes or had locked themselves inside whatever buildings still stood. Families huddled beneath awnings, behind locked doors, and inside narrow alleys, staring down toward the lower layers of the kingdom with terror in their eyes. Far beneath them, a crimson glow stained the night sky, reflecting off windows and pale stone walls until the entire city seemed drenched in blood.

No one stopped Kaito as he passed.

They barely noticed him.

The closer he came to the barrier, the worse the destruction became.

The second layer had once been the heart of the kingdom’s nightlife. Its streets were lined with taverns, entertainment halls, restaurants, open markets, and bright signs meant to draw people toward the lower beaches after dark. Now many of those buildings had been damaged by shockwaves from the battle below. Windows were shattered. Signs hung loose from broken chains. Furniture and debris had been scattered across the streets, and several sections of the road had collapsed beneath the pressure of attacks coming from inside the barrier.

At the center of it all stood the crimson dome.

It rose above the district like a living wound, enclosing the ruined battlefield beneath it. The barrier had shrunk since Kaito first saw it from the road, no longer stretching across most of the kingdom, but it was still enormous. Its surface shifted constantly, streams of dark red blood moving beneath it in slow, uneven currents. Every few seconds, the barrier pulsed, sending faint ripples through the flooded streets around it.

Kaito stopped several feet away.

For the first time since arriving, he allowed his spiritual energy to rise.

The pressure around him changed immediately.

The air grew heavy. Loose pieces of stone trembled against the ground, and the water gathered along the street rippled outward from his feet. Kaito’s hand moved to the katana at his side, fingers resting against the hilt as his blue eyes narrowed at the barrier.

He already knew who was inside.

Kaito stepped forward until he stood directly in front of the barrier.

Then he raised one hand and placed his palm against its surface.

The moment his skin touched the blood-red wall, his expression changed.

The barrier moved beneath his hand.

Not like water.

Like a pulse.

A slow, heavy thud traveled through his palm and into his arm.

Then another.

The barrier had a heartbeat.

Kaito remained still, his eyes fixed on the crimson surface as he felt the rhythm again. The pulse was faint but unmistakable, spreading through the dome in steady waves. It was not simply protecting Suzu. It was connected to her. Feeding her. Responding to her.

Behind the barrier, another shockwave erupted from the battlefield.

Kaito’s jaw tightened.

He stepped back and unsheathed his katana.

The blade slid free with a soft metallic sound that seemed unnaturally quiet against the distant chaos. Moonlight reflected faintly along the edge, and for several seconds Kaito held it at his side without moving. Spiritual energy gathered around him.

One clean strike.

Kaito lowered his stance.

Then he vanished.

The air cracked behind him as he crossed the distance in an instant. His katana swung upward, carrying enough spiritual energy to tear through a fortress wall.

The blade collided with the barrier.

The impact shook the entire kingdom.

A violent tremor ripped through the second layer, splitting sections of the street and knocking loose debris from nearby buildings. Windows shattered in every direction. Far above, frightened civilians in the third layer screamed as the ground beneath their homes shook hard enough to make them believe another earthquake had struck.

Inside the barrier, everyone felt it.

The flooded battlefield shuddered violently. Rubble bounced across the water. Broken pieces of stone rolled away from the impact point, and the crimson dome overhead rippled as if something massive had struck it from the outside.

Suzu felt it too.

Her crimson eyes lifted toward the barrier for the briefest moment.

Something had arrived.

Outside, Kaito landed several steps away from the barrier and slid across the fractured stone. He recovered instantly, katana still raised, but his expression had gone cold.

The barrier had not broken.

It had not even cracked.

Yet the pulse beneath it had changed.

The heartbeat he had felt before was faster now.

More agitated.

Kaito stared at the surface as the blood slowly settled back into place. He could strike it again. He could strike harder. With enough force, he could likely cut through eventually.

But brute force was not the answer.

The barrier was linked too closely to whatever was happening inside. A reckless attack might not simply destroy the wall. It might send the force of the impact inward, directly toward the people trapped beneath it.

Kaito lowered his sword slightly.

The blood-red surface rippled again.

Two enormous hands of blood erupted from the crimson wall.

They were massive enough to crush a building, their fingers stretching through the air as they reached for Kaito from opposite sides. The first hand came down from above, its palm wide enough to cover the entire street. The second swept in low, trying to trap him between them.

Kaito disappeared.

The upper hand slammed into the ground where he had been standing, crushing broken stone into dust and sending a wave of water across the road. Before the second hand could close around him, Kaito reappeared beside it in complete silence.

His katana flashed once.

The blade cut through the wrist.

The blood hand separated cleanly and collapsed into the flooded street, splashing across the road before being pulled back toward the barrier as though the dome itself had inhaled. The severed blood dissolved into the crimson surface, leaving no trace behind.

Kaito landed several yards away, his sword held loosely at his side.

“That was unnecessary.”

A voice came from behind him.

Kaito turned.

A man stood near the remains of a damaged building, far enough from the barrier to avoid the worst of the impact but close enough that he had clearly been watching everything. He looked calm despite the ruined streets around him, though his gaze remained fixed on the blood-covered dome with an unease he could not fully hide.

Kaito’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Vil.”

Vil gave a small nod. “Kaito Ishiro.”

There was no warmth in the greeting. No hostility either. Just the uncomfortable recognition of two men who knew one another well enough to understand that neither had ever wanted the other nearby.

Kaito sheathed his katana with one smooth motion, though his hand remained close to the hilt.

“You should be inside.”

Vil glanced toward the barrier. “Someone has to take care of the outside.”

“The outside is not the problem.”

“It is when half the city is trying to figure out whether they should run or hide.”

Kaito said nothing.

Vil’s expression tightened as he looked toward the third layer, where faint lights still burned in the windows of residential buildings. “This is my home. I’m not leaving the people here to panic while that thing is tearing the kingdom apart.”

Kaito studied him for a moment.

Vil was strong. Strong enough that most adventurers would think twice before challenging him. But Kaito could sense the difference between them immediately. Vil had the power of an S-rank fighter. Against ordinary threats, that would be more than enough. Against Suzu, it was not.

Against what was happening inside that barrier, it might not be enough to survive a single mistake.

Kaito’s expression remained unreadable. “Who is fighting her?”

Vil hesitated for only a second.

“Three guilds.”

Kaito’s gaze sharpened.

“Which ones?”

“Titans. Mars. Illumina.”

The words settled heavily between them.

Kaito already knew Shunjiro and Itsuki were inside. He had known the moment he sensed the familiar traces of their spiritual energy beneath the barrier. But hearing Illumina’s name spoken aloud made the situation feel more real.

They had been in there the entire time.

Fighting Suzu.

Kaito looked toward the barrier again. “How long?”

Vil’s expression darkened. “About an hour.”

Kaito’s grip tightened around the hilt of his katana.

An hour.

An hour against a monster strong enough to create a barrier that covered part of the kingdom. An hour while the Titans, Mars, and Illumina slowly ran out of energy, blood, and people.

Vil watched him carefully. “You knew they were in there.”

“Yes.”

“And you still came alone?”

“I came as fast as I could.”

Vil did not respond to that.

The barrier pulsed again.

This time, Kaito could feel the heartbeat from several steps away.

He stared at the crimson dome for a long moment before walking closer. He stopped directly beside it, close enough that the red light painted across his cloak and face. Vil expected him to draw his sword again. Expected another strike. Another attempt to force his way through.

Instead, Kaito sat down.

He lowered himself onto the fractured stone beside the barrier and placed his katana across his lap. Then he closed his eyes.

Vil frowned.

For several seconds, he waited for something to happen.

Nothing did.

Kaito did not speak.

He did not move.

His spiritual energy vanished, dropping so low that Vil could barely sense him at all. It was as though the SSS-rank adventurer had disappeared while sitting directly in front of him.

Vil took one cautious step closer. “What are you doing?”

Kaito did not answer.

The crimson barrier continued to pulse beside him.

Slowly.

Heavily.

Like a giant heart beating beneath the skin of the kingdom.

Vil looked from Kaito to the barrier, uncertainty growing in his expression. He had expected overwhelming force. He had expected Kaito Ishiro to tear through the dome with his sword and force his way into the fight.

Instead, Kaito sat in silence with his eyes closed, listening to something no one else could hear.