The moment their bdes cshed, the world trembled.

  Lightning split the sky.

  Thunder roared through the battlefield.

  Wind howled, swirling around them in an electric frenzy as storm and ascension collided.

  Watari’s Takemikazuchi crackled with raw power, his movements sharp, precise—each strike carrying the weight of true resonance.

  But Kuroda—

  Kuroda was beyond mortal.

  His sword was not just an extension of himself.

  It was an extension of the void.

  Every time Watari’s bde met his, the air itself seemed to shatter.

  Kuroda swung once.

  The air behind Watari ripped open.

  A golden ssh erupted from the void, aiming for his spine.

  Watari twisted, narrowly dodging.

  His instincts screamed.

  Kuroda was shifting the very fabric of reality with his attacks.

  Every cut existed in multiple pces at once.

  Watari barely had time to process before—

  Kuroda stepped in—too close.

  A sudden burst of force.

  BAM.

  Watari felt the impact in his ribs before he even realized he’d been kicked.

  His body rocketed backward, crashing through the remains of a colpsed building.

  A sharp inhale.

  A flicker of pain.

  And then—

  Movement.

  Kuroda was already there.

  Not giving him time to breathe.

  Watari rolled to the side just in time to dodge a downward ssh.

  The ground beneath him split apart, an entire crater forming from the impact.

  He pushed forward—no hesitation.

  His bde fshed.

  Lightning surged through Takemikazuchi as Watari unleashed a spinning, full-powered Storm Fang—a rapid, precise three-strike assault.

  Kuroda matched it.

  Their bdes danced in an instant—

  A blur of sshes, counter-sshes—

  Watari’s storm-infused strikes meeting Kuroda’s reality-warping bde.

  Neither gave an inch.

  But Kuroda adapted faster.

  SLASH.

  A golden cut tore across Watari’s shoulder.

  Blood spttered against the ruined pavement.

  Watari gritted his teeth.

  No time to falter.

  He smmed his foot against the ground, summoning a burst of wind pressure, unching himself upward.

  A storm surged behind him.

  Kuroda’s eyes narrowed.

  Watari twisted mid-air, lightning dancing around his bde—

  “Tempest Fang.”

  A downward, spiraling ssh.

  The force of the attack sent shockwaves screaming through the battlefield, the sheer weight of it pressing downward like the wrath of a storm god.

  Kuroda raised his bde to meet it.

  BOOM.

  The impact shattered the surrounding debris, sending both warriors flying apart.

  Watari nded in a crouch.

  His breath was slow. Measured.

  Kuroda stood, rolling his shoulder.

  Unbothered.

  His smirk widened.

  “You’re learning.”

  He lifted his bde—

  And threw it.

  Watari’s heart lurched.

  The moment it left Kuroda’s hand, the sword vanished into thin air.

  He didn’t see it reappear.

  He felt it.

  A sharp, sudden pain.

  SLICE.

  A cut across his side.

  Watari twisted, just in time to see Kuroda’s bde phasing back into existence behind him.

  “You dodged that?” Kuroda’s eyes gleamed.

  “Not bad.”

  He flicked his wrist.

  The sword vanished again.

  Watari’s mind raced.

  He needed to counter this.

  He gripped Takemikazuchi tighter.

  Think. Adapt.

  Storms don’t fight in straight lines.

  Watari moved.

  His body flickered—vanishing and reappearing in rapid bursts of motion.

  Like shifting winds.

  Kuroda’s bde appeared behind him—

  But this time, Watari was already gone.

  A sharp crack of thunder.

  Watari reappeared mid-air, above Kuroda.

  Lightning surged.

  “Gale Strike.”

  He swung downward—

  Kuroda tilted his head.

  “Too slow.”

  The moment before impact, Kuroda grabbed the air itself—

  And ripped it apart.

  A golden void swallowed Watari’s attack entirely.

  And then—

  A fist to the gut.

  Watari gasped.

  The force sent him skidding across the battlefield, his boots digging trenches into the pavement.

  Kuroda sighed, cracking his neck.

  “You’re still beneath me.”

  But Watari wasn’t listening.

  He exhaled slowly.

  His grip tightened.

  And then—

  He smiled.

  “There it is.”

  Kuroda’s eyes flickered.

  “What?”

  Watari shifted his stance.

  “You’re starting to struggle.”

  Silence.

  Kuroda’s smirk faltered.

  Watari rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on Takemikazuchi.

  “At first, you were completely untouchable.”

  His gaze sharpened.

  “Now, you’re adapting.”

  Kuroda’s fingers twitched.

  “That means you’re compensating.”

  A slow, growing realization settled over the battlefield.

  Kuroda’s aura fred violently.

  “Shut up.”

  Watari’s smirk didn’t waver.

  “I’m catching up.”

  And then—

  He vanished.

  A fsh of lightning.

  Watari reappeared behind Kuroda in an instant.

  Takemikazuchi’s bde sang.

  “Raging Tempest.”

  A full-powered, whirling storm ssh.

  Kuroda blocked it.

  But—

  He slid back.

  For the first time.

  His golden eyes widened.

  And Watari—

  Laughed.

  Kuroda’s rage exploded.

  Their battle escated.

  Bdes cshed.

  Storms roared.

  Lightning and reality itself collided.

  And then—

  Watari began to overpower him.

  The Ascendant was falling.

  Kuroda’s movements sharpened. More aggressive.

  His sshes were no longer effortless—

  They were desperate.

  His breath was heavier.

  His frustration—boiling.

  “How…?” Kuroda snarled. “How are you matching me? Beating out my regeneration time? Matching Ancient?!”

  Watari’s gaze was calm.

  “Because you’re not a god.”

  A step forward.

  “And neither was he.”

  A final strike.

  Takemikazuchi carved through Kuroda’s chest.

  Golden blood spttered onto the battlefield.

  Kuroda staggered.

  ?

  He was panting, battered, his once-unshakable confidence now trembling under the weight of reality.

  He snarled, still clinging to his arrogance, still believing in his own supremacy.

  Watari, standing firm, gripped his Reibaku, the storm still swirling around him—

  But now calm.

  Controlled.

  A storm that no longer raged aimlessly—

  But struck with intent.

  Kuroda sneered, blood trickling down his face.

  “You think… you’ve won?”

  He ughed, but there was no confidence in it anymore.

  Watari exhaled, then looked down at him.

  His grip tightened.

  And then—

  “Everyone’s told me this was all my fault.”

  His voice was steady. Unwavering.

  “But you know what, Kuroda?”

  A pause.

  “Your end is your fault.”

  Kuroda’s breath caught.

  His fingers twitched.

  “You pissed me off.”

  A beat of silence.

  Kuroda’s eye twitched.

  And then—rage.

  “Oh, you think I’m afraid of you?” he hissed.

  His aura flickered erratically, unstable.

  Watari tilted his head slightly, his eyes colder than ever.

  They took on a slight glow.

  And then—

  “You should be.”

  The world seemed to hold its breath.

  For the first time—

  Kuroda was losing.

  His fingers trembled.

  His vision blurred.

  “No…”

  And then—his lips curled.

  His body shook.

  He ughed.

  A manic, broken ugh.

  “Did you think—” he coughed, golden blood dripping from his lips, ”—I wouldn’t be ready for this?”

  Watari’s gaze narrowed.

  Then—

  The air shifted.

  Dozens of cores erupted into the sky.

  Not shattering.

  Not breaking.

  Just floating.

  Waiting.

  Kuroda’s smirk widened.

  “You thought sheltering them would help? Did you think I wouldn’t be afraid to speed up my pns?”

  His voice dripped with exhiration.

  “Just because it’s not New Year’s Day means nothing.”

  A flicker of madness in his eyes.

  “The popution I need—”

  His aura pulsed.

  The battlefield darkened.

  Something was coming.

  “—is already here.”

  ?

  CUT TO BLACK.