The roar of battle surged around him, a maelstrom of screams, whistling steel, and dying breaths. Yet Rai Tsukihara did not move. Not immediately, at least.
He observed.
Every swing of a blade. Every motion of the creatures assailing them. The heartbeat of chaos, the breathing of combat.
His gaze, cold and piercing, followed the shifting shadows. He didn't seek the first strike. He waited for the world to bend to his rhythm.
And then, when the moment arrived… he struck.
A single movement. One palm, charged with dense, concentrated Lumen.
And the universe warped beneath the impact. His hand slammed into an Altered's chest with deadly precision, unleashing a shockwave that imploded through flesh and bone. The creature wasn't thrown back like a mere body cast aside.
It was ripped from the ground.
Every fiber torn apart by the violence of the blow, every nerve screaming beneath the pressure of a colossal force. Its body crashed down meters away, lifeless.
'First Form of the Rising Sun Art,''Rai thought, the glow of Lumen fading from his palm.
A strike bearing the weight of a mountain, crushing existence in an instant.
But Rai did not linger. He had already anticipated the counter, infusing his limbs with Umbra.
A breath. A claw lunged toward him, poised to tear out his throat.
But Rai was no longer there. His body had slipped beyond reach, as if outside time itself. A seamless step, as if the very wind carried him.
The monster struck only air, clawing through the space Rai had just occupied, as though his very presence had vanished for the span of a heartbeat.
'First Move of the Dusk Art,' Rai mused, stabilizing his stance.
A vanished step. An evasion that erased existence.
The Altered staggered, thrown off balance by the void left behind.
It was its last mistake.
In a flawless transition, Rai spun on his heel, fluid as water, solid as stone, funneling both grace and force into a single motion. His elbow drove beneath the creature's joint.
The shockwave tore through muscle, shattered bone, obliterating its shard of Umbra.
The Altered crumpled without a sound.
Around him, the chaos continued to scream. But Rai stood still, his breath steady, his gaze serene as dawn over a battlefield left barren.
He did not fight for glory.
He did not fight to kill.
He advanced, simply, with the certainty of a man who had already met death… and chosen not to accept it.
_ _ _
Kaien danced.
His blade, terrifyingly delicate, vibrated between his fingers like an extension of his very soul. A supple, elusive sword, a slicing serpent that never struck twice from the same angle.
Every strike, light and swift, seemed chaotic… until one looked at the carnage left in his wake. Where Brann executed with the cold precision of a divine executioner, Kaien played with death.
An Infested lunged at him from behind, spectral claws slashing toward his nape in deadly silence. The creature thought it had found an opening.
But Kaien didn't work like that.
A pivot.
His boot skimmed the ground, his body bending backward in a motion both fluid and impossible.
Then, an eruption of steel.
His blade shifted, just enough to slot into the spectral body's hidden fault, striking the shard of Umbra lodged deep within.
A spectral scream tore through the air as the creature collapsed, like a wave breaking against stone.
Kaien flowed beneath the next attacks, weaving between strikes like a leaf in a storm.
He rose with a quiet breath, half-lidded eyes, a faint smile curling at his lips. He knew this feeling. He loved it.
The warrior monks of his homeland had taught him the Art of Broken Harmony: a style that rejected rigid doctrine, embracing absolute fluidity. Controlled chaos. A dance where weakness became strength, where every move seemed accidental, until the opponent realized, too late, they were already dead.
He followed his own rhythm, like an elusive melody woven from pauses, suspended silences, and unpredictable crescendos. Here, in the first tier of the Abyss, surrounded by a ravenous horde, he could finally express it fully.
A shiver of exhilaration coursed down his spine. The danger?
Irrelevant.
Only the dance mattered. This suspended moment where steel and shadow intertwined in a lethal symphony.
Kaien let himself be swept away by the rhythm of battle. Fluid as water. Unpredictable as lightning. He surged forward, blade in hand, slipping between talons and fangs, evading by a breath, cutting with a heartbeat.
A faint hum blossomed on his lips, soft as a fragile thread of music defying the chaos. A forgotten melody, whispered under his breath, echoing an old memory.
But then, a rustling from the pouch at his belt. Two plush ears peeked out, trembling. Then a small, worried snout, dark eyes glinting softly, catching the flashes of clashing blades.
Nono. Little companion. Little witness. A tiny breath of life amid the storm.
Her tail slowly unfurled from the pouch, a slender, endlessly long ribbon, so long it seemed it would never end. A living cord, black and white, weaving hesitantly through the air, spun from light and shadow alike. It flicked nervously, wavering, before gently curling around Kaien's torso, a fragile tether, a silent reminder of her presence.
The bluish symbols etched into her fur, usually vibrant, dimmed, their glow flickering with apprehension, each rune pulsing to the uneven rhythm of her frightened heart.
Kaien turned, welcoming the next assault. A flare of gold sparked in his eyes.
"Dance with me," he whispered to the Altered charging straight at him.
Nono, clinging tightly to the pouch, her tail coiled in a tight spiral, let out a trembling little chirp. But, almost imperceptibly, with an instinctive motion, the spiral loosened, tracing a faint glyph into the air. A soft, fragile light settled onto Kaien's blade. A timid blessing. An unintentional aid.
Kaien smiled and spun. His sword carved a perfect spiral, a diagonal slash cutting through the air before the creature could even complete its lunge. The blade, infused with the energy of battle, and with Nono's quiet glow, slipped beneath a chitinous plate, seeking the shard of Umbra nestled deep within the beast's core. And then, it struck.
A precise, surgical impact. Kaien stepped back, letting it collapse. No need to finish what was already lost.
Broken Harmony did not overwhelm. It eroded. It severed the invisible thread of the fight until the enemy realized… they'd never had a chance at all.
Kaien exhaled, savoring a fleeting moment of stillness. Nono, tail still quivering, curled against his chest, ears flattened, but her shining eyes betrayed a quiet pride.
Kaien gently stroked her trembling little head.
"Thank you," he murmured. Even the smallest lights matter in the dark.
Then he plunged back into the dance, still humming his quiet tune.
Chaos awaited.