The air grew heavy. The darkness seemed to breathe, alive, as if every shadow listened to the heartbeat of the two boys hiding.
Jiro's eyes trembled. An icy terror climbed up his spine while his lips dried out.
Rayjou, heart pounding, could barely hold back a whimper of panic.
—We've been found… what do I do? —Jiro thought desperately, swallowing hard. His mind roared with silent alarms. He had to act.
Without another word, he grabbed Rayjou's arm and whispered—
—Run!
Both of them dashed out from the dark corner where they hid, not looking back.
—We're out, right? Please don't kill us! —Rayjou yelled, almost tripping over himself.
The masked spirit watched them from the air, floating as if the ground never existed. It looked them up and down. Then let out a brief, disdainful laugh.
—What is this...? Just simple children. I thought they were one of those annoying living beings—
—Living beings...? —Jiro repeated, puzzled.
—Yes —the spirit answered, lowering its gaze with arrogance—. Those who seal the rifts we open. Though you already knew, right? You've been spying on my conversation with my lord…
The word rifts hit Jiro's chest. He felt a heavy blow in his heart. His mind darkened.
—I don't understand… How do you open the rifts...? You are responsible?
—I thought I already told you —the spirit replied lazily, its voice resonating with a macabre calm.
And then, as if a gate opened in his memory, Jiro fell to his knees.
He saw the fire. He saw the corpses.
He saw that light tearing the sky of Yamashiga.
He saw his father… disappear.
His body trembled. The spirit's voice became a distant murmur.
Jiro sweated cold. His thoughts were a whirlwind of horror.
—That's why the dimensional rifts we open in every infinite world are necessary —the spirit continued, impassive—. So now you understand.
Rayjou tried to ease the tension, sweat on his forehead and nerves shaking—
—Hey, floating friend… it was a mistake to come here, okay? Our intention wasn't to spy! We were just passing by, alright? So… will you let us go?
—Go —said the spirit with a dismissive wave—. I don't have time to kill inferior beings… This mission is more important. I don't want obstacles.
And it laughed.
—Besides, you couldn't hurt me anyway —it added mockingly.
—Alright! We're leaving! Right, Jiro? —Rayjou asked, stepping back.
But Jiro didn't move. His gaze was empty and darkened.
—Hey, Jiro, what are you doing...? Let's go now! —Rayjou whispered desperately.
Jiro murmured—
—Ten years ago… in the village of Yamashiga…
The Great Catastrophe happened.
My land… my friends…
My life…
My father…
I lost everything… ever since I saw those rifts. That bright line in the sky… that gigantic spirit…
The spirit looked at him sideways, tilting its head.
—What are you talking about?
—Let's go, Jiro! Forget this! —insisted Rayjou, trying to pull him away.
But Jiro shook his hand off forcefully.
—Are you telling me… that all this was caused on purpose? —he shouted with fury.
—I don't like repeating myself —said the spirit, tired.
—So… those rifts are not just cosmic phenomena?! —Jiro panted. His lungs refused to obey.
The spirit watched him with curiosity.
—I see… I think you're a victim of some void wound in this world. Though… I don't remember when. I have very bad memory, you know. Eons of existence…
The spirit coughed fake and continued in a mocking tone—
—Let me clarify something.
The Shiketsus, Daiketsus, and Shinjetsu are not natural phenomena. They're caused. By us. The servants of our dear Spirit Lord.
He opens the rifts.
We prevent them from closing.
The rifts open across multiple universal lines. That's why we travel without limits. And thanks to this talisman loom— —it showed a shining green stone— —we also access the Spirit Realm. From there, we watch the worlds and drain their energy.
The spirit floated backward with a yawn.
—I've said too much… what a nuisance. Anyway, back to work. Have a good day.
Rayjou couldn't process everything he had just heard. His mind was a broken mess of thoughts.
But Jiro… Jiro's eyes were filled with rage.
—Yes… thanks for the information.
And with a roar of fury, he leapt toward the masked spirit.
—I WILL KILL YOU! —he shouted, fists raised.
—JIROOO?! —Rayjou yelled, desperate.
Time slowed.
Jiro's arms passed through the spirit as if it were smoke.
—What just happened?! —Jiro exclaimed, bewildered.
—He… he passed right through it like smoke… —Rayjou said, mouth agape.
The spirit slowly turned toward him.
—I'm sorry, little living being. I am a spirit. I have no physical body. Blows… don't affect me.
—Damn! —Jiro cursed, charging again with a roar, fists burning with frustration.
Once more, his attack went right through the ethereal being.
—Jiro, please! Stop! —Rayjou begged—. Let's go!
—You should listen to your friend —said the spirit, still laughing, floating with indifference.
But Jiro's eyes… were no longer the same.
The echoes of the blows resonated inside the cavern, but none touched flesh. Jiro, sweat sliding down his forehead, threw punch after punch, high kicks, sweeps, jumping strikes—martial combinations mixing speed, rage, and precision. But it all ended the same way. His attacks simply passed through the ethereal body of the Masked Spirit as if it were smoke. Smoke that looked at him with bright, empty eyes.
—Are you seriously still at this? —said the Spirit with disdain, floating slightly above the ground— I already told you your attacks are useless, kid...
Jiro gasped, frustration marking his face.
—Shut up! I'm going to take you down! I'm going to—!
—Jiro! —interrupted Rayjou, his voice trembling— If you keep going at him like this... you'll end up killing us!
His friend's words seemed to bounce off the walls, powerless against the tension filling the air. The cave, lit by light descending through the fissure above, felt closed in, trapped in a moment suspended between death and determination.
Jiro rolled back with an elegant flip, positioning himself next to Rayjou. His chest rose and fell heavily, but his eyes did not lose their shine.
—So, if physical attacks don't affect you... I know how to hurt you now —he murmured.
The Spirit tilted his head with mild curiosity.
—And what are you going to do now?
Then, without warning, Jiro lowered his arms and clenched his fists. A dense aura began to rise from his palms, wrapping them in a mist that swirled like thick, steaming vapor. It was energy. Pure, unstable, violent. Spirit.
The stone beneath his feet cracked as Jiro launched forward like a bullet. The Spirit stopped floating, landing softly on the ground. Rayjou's eyes widened.
—He stopped floating...!
Jiro's fist, wrapped in his spiritual aura, crossed the air with fury, leaving a trail of wind. It struck! It didn't go through. It was stopped.
A skeletal hand covered in shadows had caught the blow.
—Interesting... —said the Spirit, looking at his hand with slight surprise— Spiritual energy. I hadn't noticed you were users of that kind of power...
Jiro gritted his teeth. I touched it... I finally touched it...
But the atmosphere changed. The Spirit's presence became heavy, malicious, deadly.
—I don't like this one bit... —he muttered in a deep voice.
And then, with deadly fluidity, he twisted Jiro's arm and threw him through the air like a rag doll. Jiro's body flew several meters, violently crashing against a rock. The impact echoed throughout the cave.
—Jirooo! —shouted Rayjou as he ran to him.
The Masked Spirit began to walk slowly, firmly, like death itself.
—Very well... It's time to die. You should have left when I gave you the chance.
Rayjou managed to lift Jiro, who barely stood, bleeding from his forehead.
—Now we're in trouble... —he whispered in terror.
But Jiro, with a half-smile, spitting blood, responded:
—I'm just getting warmed up...
With a battle cry, he threw himself at the attack again. Bursts of energy blows flowed from his hands. The Spirit blocked them all easily, moving effortlessly.
—Your spiritual energy flow is very unstable... —he commented while dodging gracefully— You're a beginner. You have strength, but you don't know how to use it.
Then, with a quick spin, he landed a sharp blow on Jiro's nose. Jiro's world spun as a wave of dizziness hit his head. He fell to his knees, dazed.
—Leave him! —shouted Rayjou furiously.
He ran toward the Spirit, channeling his own spiritual energy into his legs. With a double spin, he launched two fast, powerful kicks. They were stopped by the Spirit's palm, who hit him in the chest and threw him backward.
The power difference was immense.
Now kneeling, Rayjou raised both hands. In his palms, a ball of fire began to form, spinning with raw energy. The cave lit up with its glow.
—This... is for Jiro!
The Spirit raised an eyebrow.
—Cool... So you can also create elemental power from that energy?
With one hand, he caught the fireball and partially absorbed it... then redirected it.
—Return the favor.
The ball flew toward Jiro, who was just beginning to get up. It hit him in the chest. His body was thrown back, falling next to a stone spear. He hit his head and his vision blurred.
—Jirooo! —Rayjou shouted again.
But there was no time. An invisible force grabbed him by the torso. The Masked Spirit lifted him with a psychic gesture and slammed him against a rock wall. A crack was heard.
—Allow me to show you how to use spiritual energy... correctly —he said with cruel calm.
He formed with his fingers something like a gun, pointing at Rayjou.
—I'll start with you.
At his fingertip appeared a small flame. It began to spin, changing from red to blue, then to purple. It became a compact sphere of purple fire that pulsed violently.
—You like fire, right? Then here you go...
He fired.
The sphere crossed the air like a meteor. Rayjou, half-conscious, barely reacted. The explosion shook the entire cave.
—RAYJOU!! —Jiro shouted, lifting his head as the smoke cleared.
Rayjou's body lay on the ground, burned, his clothes in tatters. He was unconscious. His breathing was weak.
Jiro fell to his knees, trembling.
—Rayjou... Look at what they did to you... Damn...
The Spirit watched him with a neutral expression.
—He's not dead yet. But yes, on the edge.
He turned toward him, pointing his finger again.
—Now... it's your turn.
A new purple flame began to glow in the darkness.
Time seemed to stop.
Facing imminent death, facing the purple flame slowly advancing toward him as if mocking his helplessness… Jiro Kamimizu did not move. He did not scream. He did not resist.
He simply… cried.
His eyes welled up, not from the burning heat of the attack, but from memories striking him like echoes of a life that felt so far away… The image of his father appeared clearly, as vivid as the day he last saw him. Those warm eyes, his firm voice, the hands that once lifted him with strength and tenderness.
Jiro trembled.
—Why… he wondered— —Why did you disappear, Dad? Why couldn't I do anything?— Tears fell silently, like heavy pearls flowing from the soul.
He remembered when Rayjou Tamashi first appeared in his life, that clumsy but brave boy who offered him a hand when he was lost. He remembered entering the Spiritual Training Academy, years of hard practice, days when he wanted to give up… and nights he thought of his father while looking at the moon through the window.
A thousand images flooded him: Baby Jiro, crying with tiny little horns, reaching out his hand to hold his father's finger. His mother, strong but exhausted. His grandfather, always present, but unable to fill the void left by the man who was once his hero.
And then he understood.
The regret was not for failing… It was for never feeling enough. For never being ready. For always carrying the guilt of being weak.
—Forgive me, Dad… he murmured with a broken voice— —Forgive me truly…—
It was at that moment, when the word forgiveness rose from his soul, that the red crescent pendant hanging on his neck began to vibrate… then glow, and finally resonate as if responding to the beat of his heart.
The Masked Spirit, impassive, released the shot.
A purple roar crossed the cave like a death ray. The explosion covered everything in smoke and dust. Rayjou, still unconscious, lay silently.
The Spirit lowered its hand coldly, confident in the outcome.
But turning, its gaze fell on the crack in the rock… and there, it saw only little Shiketsu, the ceremonial dagger. The crimson spear, however… was no longer there.
It frowned.
—It can't be… it whispered, floating again with tension— —Where is the Higetsu no Yari…?—
The smoke began to clear slowly… and that was when it saw.
There stood Jiro Kamimizu, upright.
And in front of him, silently floating… the Higetsu no Yari.
A spear with a blazing edge, crimson as blood, spinning gently while a stream of spiritual energy swirled around it. Rayjou's wounds began to close slowly, wrapped in that same protective aura.
Jiro stared at the spear with wide eyes.
—The Higetsu no Yari… but why…?—
The Spirit shuddered. Its voice trembled for the first time.
—This has to be a joke! The original bearer is supposed to be dead! That spear can't choose another without consent!—
Jiro gripped the spear with both hands. He felt the resonance vibrate in his chest.
—Did it choose me?— —The crimson spear of Raizen Tenkuma… he whispered with reverence—
The Masked Spirit clenched its fists, furious.
—Perfect! Now I have more reasons to kill you!—
And it lunged.
But before it could reach him, the spear flashed violently. Jiro's body reacted involuntarily: his arm rose and unleashed a vertical slash of spiritual power.
A crimson wave expanded in all directions. The entire cave trembled. The ground cracked. The air vibrated.
And outside…
The sky turned red. From the village, his mother and grandfather watched the scarlet light tearing the horizon. From the top of a tree, Shinji, the mysterious hermit, opened his eyes as the energy broke the sky.
The Spirit was brutally thrown against one of the cave walls, shattering its mask into a thousand pieces, finally revealing its face. It bled.
It staggered to its feet, now floating high, gasping.
—This can't be… this is bad… this is very bad…— —I have to kill you right now, brat!—
With rage, it charged at him at full speed.
But this time… Jiro also rose.
The pendant shone intensely, and his body was covered in a burning crimson aura. Red streaks appeared on his cheeks, his horns glowed like fire, and his eyes… shone like living embers.
And then, in a single instant…
Jiro sliced through the air with a slash as fast as light. The Spirit was cleanly cut and blasted against a distant mountain… which pulverized into a cloud of rock and fire.
The sky roared.
The world stopped.
And in the air, floating among embers and silence…
Jiro Kamimizu opened his eyes, transformed.
—This ends now—