Itoyea glanced across the clearing, his gaze locking briefly with Bukanami Ao, who stood poised at the opposite edge of the Rangers Academy base's outer boundary.
The moment stretched.
Then Itoyea gave a single nod.
A go.
Bukanami met his eyes and nodded back without hesitation.
Right.
That was all they needed.
Their stealth techniques dropped simultaneously, presence snapping into existence like glass shattering in still air.
The clearing reacted instantly.
One of the shields, Kim's eyes snapped open wide.
Too late.
The ground beneath the clearing detonated upward, stone and soil erupting violently as compressed force surged from below. The shockwave rippled outward, bending the air itself.
Itoyea moved on instinct.
Steel rang as his sword flashed free of its sheath, the blade intercepting a projectile of compressed stone mid-flight. The impact screamed through his arms, but he redirected the force cleanly, landing in a low stance as fragments shattered harmlessly around him.
Already, he was advancing.
"Contact!" Sung barked, his voice sharp with alarm.
Kim surged forward, moving faster than Itoyea had anticipated. His weapon wasn't a traditional blade—no, it was a short spear that split mid-thrust, dividing into three separate prongs that struck from slightly staggered angles.
But Bukanami Ao was already there.
He dropped in like a hunting eagle, boots striking ground as both weapons cleared their sheaths in the same motion—the black machete humming with violent aura, the golden sword gleaming with restrained power.
He stepped inside the spear's reach.
His golden sword flashed once.
Then twice.
Kim wasn't weak. Far from it. His reaction speed was sharp, his footing disciplined—but against Bukanami's overwhelming strength and combat experience, it wasn't enough.
The shield staggered back, eyes wide. He wasn't bleeding. He wasn't screaming.
He was shaken.
He hadn't even seen the cuts.
Itoyea exhaled sharply and pressed forward, using the opening without hesitation.
This wasn't about overpowering them.
This was about precision.
Sung lunged in from the side, timing his strike with near-perfect coordination, clearly trying to overwhelm Itoyea through sheer force. Itoyea twisted at the last moment, letting the blade skim past his ribs as he stepped in and struck the man's wrist with the flat of his sword.
The sound was sharp.
Bone cracked.
As he collapsed with a grunt, his weapon slipping from fingers that had gone numb instantly.
But Kim recovered fast—too fast.
He abandoned defense entirely and charged, pouring everything into a single reckless advance.
So that's your answer, Itoyea thought grimly.
Overwhelm.
Itoyea raised his sword.
"Second Form."
His stance shifted—lighter, sharper, cleaner. Every unnecessary movement vanished.
"—Lonely Wind."
The blade cut through the air in a perfect arc.
The shield froze mid-step.
Then dropped.
Silence settled over the base.
Only one remained.
The king.
Karen Dīskūnshīk.
She opened her eyes.
The pressure hit instantly.
The air thickened, coiling inward toward her like gravity itself had been given direction and intent. The glowing boundary of the safe zone flared violently, runes along its edge screaming in protest.
Itoyea felt his feet sink an inch into the stone beneath him.
Bukanami stiffened.
"So you were this close," Karen said calmly as she rose to her feet. Her voice carried no fear. No panic. Only certainty. "It se—"
Itoyea didn't answer.
He stepped forward.
Her sword lifted—
—and stopped.
The pressure vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
Bukanami blinked.
Itoyea frowned.
Karen smiled faintly and lowered her blade.
"I yield."
The words landed heavier than any attack.
Itoyea stiffened. "What?"
"Shzekcl has already decided to withdraw from this competition," she said evenly, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Thus, I have no reason to fight you anymore."
She inclined her head slightly.
"You win."
For a heartbeat, Itoyea didn't move.
Then he sheathed his sword.
Only then did the tension finally leave his shoulders.
Behind him, Bukanami let out a slow breath. "Clean," he said quietly.
Itoyea closed his eyes for just a moment.
This wasn't how he had wanted to win.
He would have preferred an all-out fight, a decisive clash—but she was right to withdraw. Even if she won against them, it wouldn't have been without cost.
And there was still him.
Itekan.
Itoyea turned back toward the trembling dungeon.
I kept my end.
---
Back at the Stadium…
X's voice rang out—analytical, controlled, yet still carrying the crowd with practiced ease.
"And that is it. Ladies and gentlemen. Trainees and instructors. All who have come from far and wide—what you have just witnessed marks the end of the first round of the Tatum-Deru Tournament."
The audience leaned in.
"Karen Dīskūnshīk's decision to withdraw ties directly to Shzekcl's own withdrawal from the competition."
X allowed the weight of the moment to settle before continuing, breaking down the day's events with clarity and authority.
From the Central Kendo Dungeons, resolved by Ronga, the ace of Marcellonia…
To the Southern Kendo Dungeons, where the clash between Korimer Ransthrol of Four Stars Academy and Edward Blooms of Blooms Academy had shaken the field…
And finally, to the Northern Kendo Dungeons—resolved through the joint efforts of Itoyea Pilton and Bukanami Ao.
The crowds began to thin as the first round officially came to an end.
Yet even as they streamed out, the songs they sang—of heroics, of overwhelming techniques, of rising stars—never left their lips.
Those trainees who had not participated felt something ignite within them.
A need to improve.
A need to catch up.
A need to stand on that same stage.
The world had witnessed its first ever Tatum-Deru.
And it had been changed anew because of it.
From here on onward—
a new era had begun.
.
.
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Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)