Upon arriving at the mission site, Takami scanned the area and spotted five dorms spread out at reasonable distances. A bunch of spirit slayers had already gathered, most moving with ease into the dorms assigned to them. Takami moved forward, eyes briefly darting over the groups before settling on the man stationed near, the one managing entry.
He approached. "Hello. Uh, I think I applied online for this mission but… there's no one else left."
The man barely looked up at first, thumbs flying across his phone. "One second," he said, voice flat and worn from repetition. After a few scrolls, he stopped. "Individual application?"
Takami nodded.
"Takami Ryusei?"
"That's me."
"Right. Looks like you're grouped with a squad that submitted a team application. Odd, they're not here yet."
"Oh, okay," Takami said, shifting his weight.
Then came a voice. Too familiar to mistake.
"Well, well, well. Who in the spirit horses am I looking at?"
Takami turned, a small smirk already forming.
Kiya stood with her arms folded, eyes gleaming with amused surprise. Wazahi and the rest of the team were right behind her.
"Hey, it's you. Takami!" Wazahi said, his tone light and welcoming as they closed the gap.
"Yeah," Takami replied. It was brief. But he didn't notice the smile playing in his face.
"What a coincidence, huh?" Kiya chimed in, her brows raised with the usual sarcastic energy.
Wazahi tilted his head. "Mind if I ask something?"
"Go ahead." Takami approved.
"Well, yesterday you kinda just tagged along, caught off-guard. But today? You actually applied on your own. So…" Wazahi gave him a once-over. "Why aren't you in battle gear?"
Takami thought of what to say for a while before replying. "I… couldn't afford one,"
Wazahi's expression didn't falter. He gave a simple nod. "Hm… got it. Let's go."
They moved into the dorm, the same formation as yesterday. As they entered, Kiya drifted closer, whispering from the side.
"Doesn't this one feel off? It's darker than yesterday's. Kinda heavy."
"Most likely," Takami murmured.
Up front, the team mage raised her staff. "Illuminate!" she chanted.
A glow sparked at the tip, then fizzled out.
"Illuminate!" she repeated. Again, nothing but a flash and fade.
"Shadow-types," the tank said grimly, anchoring his large shield into the ground.
Wazahi drew his blade without hesitation. "Circle up. Cover Takami."
Takami blinked, caught off guard as the team instinctively moved to surround him. They acted with sharp precision, back-to-back, weapons up.
But Takami's brows furrowed. Something wasn't right. "They're… beast-types."
"What?" Kiya shot him a glance.
Before anyone could digest it, a swarm of beast-type spirits burst from the dorm's shadows. The tank slammed his shield into the floor, a barrier flaring to life just in time to deflect the charge.
"He's not wrong," the tank muttered, barrier dissolving as he lifted his massive short sword and cleaved through three spirits in a single swing.
Wazahi was already in motion, slicing with fluid strikes, cutting down enemies.
The mage pointed her staff toward the ground. "Heed me flames, erupt!"
Columns of fire burst from beneath the spirits, scorching a wide spread of them. Screeches and howls filled the air.
Kiya sighed and slid on her bracelets, flexing her fingers. She raised one arm and focused. "Life below, obey. Bind!"
Vines erupted from the floor, whipping out like snakes. They wrapped around the spirits' limbs, tightened around skulls, constricted until bones cracked and heads popped.
The healer, calm and still, stood a few paces back, hands folded to his chest as he whispered incantations. The moment his chant stabilized, the spirits slowed.
In mere minutes, the battle ended. Silence reclaimed the dorm.
Takami stared in awe. "So… you just chose to go full melee yesterday? You're all insanely good."
"You could say that," Wazahi replied, wiping his blade clean.
Takami tilted his head. "So, why the change today?"
"The real fight's ahead. Wasting energy on fodder would be stupid. This one is stronger than that of yesterday, heard it's been here for five days." Wazahi answered plainly.
Takami's eyes lit up in realization. "Wait… these are high-class spirits, their blades are still undergrown."
Everyone paused.
Wazahi's eyes narrowed. "You're right…"
His senses suddenly spiked. "Shadow-types. They're coming too."
Kiya blinked. "Hold up, both beast-types and shadow-types in one dorm? That's… not something you see everyday."
"Emotion-bound spirits," Takami said with conviction. "They manipulate both beast and shadow-types. If they're really back, then there's no mistaking that they can also do that in dorms too."
"So the rumors were no joke…" Wazahi muttered under his breath.
Kiya glanced at Takami. "Okay, but seriously…how are you so sure of the type before they even appear? Is that 'just instincts' too?"
Takami stiffened. "Well, um… it's…"
But before he could go any further, they were ambushed by shadow-type spirits.
No time to think. No time to hesitate.
They fought again, even more viciously than before. The air was alive with chaos and raw magic.
When it was over, sweat clung to their brows, and the floor was littered with dissipating spirit remains.
Takami stood back. The others regrouped, steadying their breath.
"Let's move," Wazahi said, sliding his sword back into its sheath.
Mount Fuji - Phantom Order Research Lab
The room was full of shadows, pierced only by the faint flicker of a low-hanging fluorescent light overhead, buzzing faintly. One of the glass tanks that held one of the avatars stood empty. Instead, a man lay on a narrow bed pushed against the wall. His face was marked by a light mustache, and his breathing was shallow. But still unconscious.
Across the dim room, Kaito Mizuno lounged in a dark blue suit, one leg crossed over the other. His posture was casual, gaze fixed on a small book. The corners of his lips twitched slightly, amused by the quiet atmosphere. The man on the bed shifted subtly, a flutter in his breath.
"There's no need to hide the fact that you're awake," Mizuno said without looking up. "You're stronger than me anyways, so what's the big deal?"
The man's eyes cracked open, cool, calculating, and sharp. He slowly sat up, muscles unused and stiff. "No Japanese," he replied, his voice rough but clear, speaking in English.
Mizuno snapped the book shut with a crisp motion and turned his full attention toward the man. Now speaking English, "Pardon me. I'll use English then."
"Where is this place?" the man asked, still sitting, scanning the room with caution.
"Well," Mizuno said, smiling faintly, "let's say it's a little lab of mine. I suppose I don't need to mention the country."
The man said nothing, but the tension hung heavy.
Mizuno exhaled slowly, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You don't know how satisfied I am that you woke up with such calm and not aggression."
The man's gaze sharpened. "Probably wouldn't have if you kept speaking a language I don't understand."
Mizuno chuckled lightly, the sound dry but amused. "Do you remember anything before falling unconscious?"
The man's eyes flicked to Mizuno's face. "I remember your face. Too clear to mistake it. How could I forget the one who brought up the idea used to defeat me?"
"Well then," Mizuno said with a small bow of his head, "I'll introduce myself properly. I'm Kaito Mizuno, guild master of Phantom Order, one of Japan's top guilds."
"Nathan," the man replied simply.
Mizuno leaned back with a sly smile. "And…I think I have an offer for you."
Back at the Dorm
They moved through the shadows of the dorm, the air thick with mist and unease. Takami and the team slowed, sensing the weight of the place.
The healer stopped and spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Guys."
They all turned.
"It's either this dorm is older than we were told, or…the spirits here are already through the first evolution stage," he said gravely. "Not to mention the possible emotion-bound spirit lurking somewhere inside."
Wazahi's brow furrowed deeply. Silence stretched before he finally spoke, voice low and sharp "We need to work fast, then."
Without warning, shadow-type spirits burst from the walls like dark smoke, their forms flickering. Each strike the team made was swift, precise and had no wasted effort. They cleared the way in a blur of coordinated attacks before hurrying deeper in.
They stopped where the dorm simply ended. There, a dense, dark mist churned and swirled around an indistinct shape, something alive but unseen.
"That's it," Wazahi said, voice tight with anticipation.
The mage raised her staff and pointed it at the figure, eyes burning with focus. "Heed me flames, devour." A sudden eruption of fire roared from the staff, swallowing the figure. Or so they thought.
But the mist shifted, revealing the figure still standing, silent, unmoving. Just beyond the reach of the flames.
The mage nearly lost her footing, but the tank steadied her with a firm grip. "Are you okay?"
"That move drains a lot of grant," she replied, voice strained.
Takami stepped forward, studying the spirit's form carefully. "It's trying to avoid disruption."
The tank nodded solemnly. "Then now's the best time to strike."
Wazahi drew his sword slowly, the blade gleaming cold. "We don't know what it might become after evolving." His voice dropped, fierce and quiet. Then he lunged.
Kiya and the tank charged with him, blades and fists ready, but the spirit was quick. Too quick. It darted away, slipping through their grasp like smoke through fingers.
Kiya raised her hand, chanting sharply, "Life below, obey. Grasp and drag."
From the cracked floor, thick vines erupted violently, wrapping around the spirit in a crushing grip. For a moment, it froze, trapped. But it didn't struggle. It didn't need to. Its evolution was nearing completion.
As the mist dissipated, the full horror of the spirit was revealed. An emotion-bound spirit, human-like figure, empty black holes for eyes. Its skin was pale with a sickly reddish tint, a face twisted in eternal rage, and a vaporous red aura steamed off its body.
Suddenly, with a violent burst, the vines shattered. The air thickened, pressure mounting.
"It's done evolving," Kiya muttered.
The team launched their attacks again. Sword slashes, and magic blasts, but the spirit dodged or blocked everything, striking back with brutal force.
Surprisingly, their wounds began to heal, rapidly knitting closed under the steady hands of the healer, who stood back with Takami, murmuring a chant with interlocked fingers held to his chest.
The spirit roared, slashing toward Kiya, but the tank slammed his shield down, sending a shockwave that blasted the spirit back.
Furious now, it struck viciously. A scratch across Wazahi's neck. A powerful punch sending the tank sprawling, followed by a spinning kick that smashed into Kiya's face, making her cough blood.
It aimed for the second mage, but a sword slash cut in just in time. Wazahi, bloodied but healed, had already recovered his weapon.
The spirit ducked and scorpion kicked the sword away, but before he could counterattack, he felt the crushing impact of its legs driving into his stomach, sending him crashing backward. Wazahi coughed up blood.
The mage, trembling, tried to chant again, "H-Heed me f-flames, erupt!" but fear broke her focus, the flames sputtered and failed.
The spirit lunged at her; she curled into herself, screaming, hands over her head. But it didn't want her, it barreled past.
Claws aimed for the healer's face, whose eyes widened in horror.
Then…
BOOM.
A sickening crack echoed as a fist collided with the spirit's face, sending it flying through the air.
Takami stood, calm and cold, cracking his left shoulder with a deliberate snap. His eyes glowed with fierce intensity, cutting through the darkness of the dorm.
"Heal them," Takami said to the healer, tone low.
"I'm sorry for taking action this late." He added, his voice calm, cold and deadly.