The cube sealed shut with a low hum, trapping two figures beneath its transparent ceiling.
Yuki Kinatarou stood loose, shoulders relaxed, hands dangling at his sides like he was waiting for a street performance to begin rather than a semifinal that could shatter him.
Across from him stood Ren Kyorin.
Still.
Composed.
Charged.
The air between them felt different from Yuki's previous fights. It wasn't playful heat.
It was pressure before lightning strikes.
Ren's eyes traveled over Yuki slowly.
"You're trembling," Ren said flatly.
Yuki blinked and glanced down at his own hands. They were, faintly. He quickly curled them into fists and flashed a grin.
"I call it dramatic effect. The crowd loves suspense."
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the audience.
Ren didn't smile.
"You tripped twice earlier," Ren continued. "Not because you're clumsy. Because you're exhausted, you can't even walk straight."
The words struck harder than any punch.
For a fraction of a second, Yuki's eyes widened.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Yuki inhaled and plastered that infuriatingly playful grin back onto his face.
"Listen, sometimes the ground just attacks you unexpectedly. It happens."
Some of the crowd laughed louder this time, clinging to the humor.
Ren took one step forward.
"Keep joking. It won't stop what's coming. I'll humiliate you here."
The official's hand dropped.
Ren vanished.
There was no dramatic wind-up. No shouted technique.
One moment he stood still.
The next, he was already in front of Yuki.
His arm arched back, shoulder twisting with perfect form, lightning faintly crackling across his skin like veins of light.
The punch shot forward.
Yuki's instincts screamed.
He dropped low and launched backward into a double back handspring, palms striking the floor in quick succession.
His body flipped twice in rapid arcs, boots skidding slightly as he landed several meters away.
The punch tore through the air where his face had been an instant prior.
The crowd exploded.
"Did you see that?!"
"He read it!"
"The Kyorin crossed that distance instantly!"
Ren straightened slowly.
"Good reaction speed," he admitted. "And impressive agility."
His eyes sharpened.
"But that won't save you."
He disappeared again.
This time, he did not test Yuki with a single strike.
He unleashed a barrage.
Punches came in streaks. Jabs. Hooks. Uppercuts. Each one whistling through the air at blinding speed. Lightning flickered faintly around his limbs, illuminating each movement in brief flashes.
Yuki weaved.
Barely.
He twisted at the waist, ducked under a hook, leaned back from a straight punch that grazed the tip of his nose. His boots scraped against the floor as he pivoted, constantly adjusting.
From the outside, it looked almost like a dance.
To Yuki, it felt like drowning.
Ren's speed was suffocating.
Every strike arrived before the previous one had fully registered. The crackling electricity in the air made his skin prickle.
The crowd's roar grew chaotic.
"He can't keep this up!"
"Kyorin's too fast!"
"Move, Kinatarou!"
Yuki ducked again, but this time Ren adapted mid-combination.
The third punch in the sequence curved unexpectedly.
It landed.
Yuki's head snapped sideways.
Before he could recover, another punch slammed into the opposite cheek.
The sound echoed.
A spinning kick followed, lightning trailing in a sharp arc. It drove into Yuki's midsection with brutal precision.
Boom.
The impact lifted him off the ground.
He flew backward, body arching through the air before he twisted, forcing himself to land on his feet. His boots skidded across the arena floor, leaving faint scorch marks.
He stopped several meters away.
The arena held its breath.
Yuki straightened slowly.
And then he smiled.
"I've had worse massages," he croaked.
A strained laugh escaped someone in the stands.
Ren's lips curved.
Not amused.
Devious.
"You're quite durable."
He stepped forward casually.
Yuki opened his mouth to reply.
Blood burst out.
It spilled from his nose and mouth all at once, splattering onto the floor in dark droplets.
The playful smile faltered.
His hand shot up instinctively, covering his mouth. But blood seeped between his fingers, dripping down his wrist.
The arena gasped in unison.
Seri's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.
Emi, seated not far from her, watched with a small, unreadable smile.
Within the Kinatarou sphere, Yukari's knuckles whitened against the armrest. Luna leaned forward sharply.
Haruki continued sleeping, completely unaware of the thunder cracking inside the cube.
Among the common spectators, Hana's eyes shimmered with worry as she clutched at her sleeve.
Ren stopped a few paces away.
"Each punch," he said calmly, "carries roughly twenty thousand volts of electricity."
A murmur of horror spread through the crowd.
"When I hit you," Ren continued, tilting his head slightly, "I'm not just striking your body. I'm electrocuting you from the inside out. Unlike you who can barely use your kizo, us Royals are strong and creative with using our kizo. It may take a bit of ki but that's only a drop compared to the ki we have."
Yuki's fingers trembled harder now.
His ears rang.
The world felt distant, muffled, as though submerged underwater. His heart hammered violently against his ribs. His muscles spasmed unpredictably, tiny involuntary jolts flickering beneath his skin.
Twenty thousand volts.
For a normal person, it would have stopped their heart.
He swallowed.
It hurt.
Not the sharp pain of a cut.
Not the blunt ache of a bruise.
This was deeper.
A crawling, invasive agony that slithered through his nerves and set them ablaze. His insides felt scorched. His lungs burned when he tried to inhale. Even his fingertips tingled violently, refusing to obey him.
Ren smiled faintly.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Yuki tried to respond.
For a moment, no sound came out.
His vision blurred. The lights overhead streaked into pale smears. The roaring crowd faded into an indistinct hum.
He tasted iron.
He was shaking openly now.
And yet—
He was still standing.
The audience watched in stunned silence.
"How is he still up?"
"That voltage should've—"
"Is he even human?"
They didn't understand.
They didn't feel the violent tremors ripping through his muscles. They didn't feel the way his nerves screamed with every heartbeat.
Yuki removed his hand slowly from his mouth. Blood coated his fingers.
He looked at it.
Then back at Ren.
"Okay," he said hoarsely. "That one… stung a little."
Seri blinked, tears threatening to form despite herself.
Even now.
Even like this.
He was joking.
Ren's expression hardened slightly.
"You're at your limit."
Maybe he was.
Yuki's legs felt heavier with each passing second. His balance threatened to betray him. His breathing came uneven and ragged.
But somewhere beneath the pain—
There was still fire.
He straightened fully, wiping the remaining blood against his sleeve.
"You talk a lot," Yuki said quietly. "For someone who hasn't put me down yet."
The crowd erupted.
Hope flared again, fragile but bright.
Ren's eyes gleamed.
Then lightning began to gather around him in earnest.
The air crackled.
The storm was no longer testing its thunder.
It was preparing to strike again.
And Yuki, trembling, half-blind, nerves screaming—
Braced himself.
Ren moved first.
He lunged with a sharp exhale, lightning snapping around his leg as it carved toward Yuki's face in a brutal arc. The air shrieked from the speed alone.
Yuki bent backward just in time, the electrified kick grazing his bangs. Strands of hair sizzled and fell away.
Before Ren's foot even touched the ground, Yuki pivoted.
His fist came forward.
No elemental flourish.
Just a punch.
And something far worse.
The instant Ren saw it coming, his instincts detonated inside him.
Killing intent.
Not anger.
Not competitive drive.
Not the heat of battle.
It was pure.
Cold.
Unfiltered desire to end a life.
Ren's heart slammed against his ribs as every muscle in his body reacted before his mind could catch up. He leapt backward violently, boots skidding as he retreated again and again until his back struck the barrier with a sharp thud.
The punch cut through the space where his head had been.
The air itself seemed to split.
A ripple rolled across the arena floor like a silent shockwave.
The entire stadium felt it.
A murmur spread through the crowd, low and confused.
"What… was that?"
"Did you feel that?"
The temperature hadn't changed.
The pressure had.
Haruki, who had been sprawled lazily on the couch in the Kinatarou sphere, opened his eyes instantly. No grogginess. No confusion. His gaze sharpened like a blade being unsheathed.
Emi stared at Yuki, horror blooming across her face.
That feeling.
She had felt it before.
The first time she and Ren had met him.
Ren stood pressed against the barrier now, chest heaving.
Sweat rolled down his temple. His limbs felt heavy, unresponsive.
He felt small.
Like prey.
His eyes lifted slowly.
Yuki stood where he had thrown the punch.
Still.
His arms hung at his sides.
His head tilted slightly downward.
His eyes—
Empty.
Not angry.
Not furious.
Vacant.
Predatory.
Ren's throat tightened.
Rabbit.
Wolf.
That was the only way to describe it.
But this time—
He would not freeze.
He forced himself to breathe.
He forced his trembling legs to obey him.
Across the arena, Yukari shot to her feet.
"Yuuuuukiiiiii!"
Her scream cracked through the cube like a bell ringing in a cathedral.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then Yuki blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The emptiness fractured.
Air rushed back into the stadium.
The invisible pressure evaporated as though it had never existed.
Yuki's shoulders loosened.
His lips curved faintly.
"Oops," he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
In the Kinatarou sphere, Yukari sagged back into her seat, breath shaking.
She remembered.
When he had first returned from Giyu's clutches.
The silence.
The way he would wake in the night with eyes just like that.
She never knew what Giyu had done to him. She never asked. But she knew it had carved something into him that surfaced whenever he was cornered too deeply.
A survival instinct sharpened into something lethal.
Derek, watching from his seat, narrowed his eyes.
During their first duel, that same aura had surfaced for an instant. He hadn't imagined it.
Seri gripped the edge of her seat. The first time she had seen that look, she had panicked and smacked him over the head without thinking.
Now, her heart pounded painfully against her ribs.
If that punch had connected—
Ren would have died.
On the stage, Ren swallowed the last remnants of fear.
No more games.
He spread his hands.
Lightning gathered violently between them, coiling and compressing until it formed a spear of pure thunder.
Electricity crawled across the floor in jagged veins,
snapping and crackling with lethal promise.
The crowd leaned back instinctively.
"Thunder Spear!"
Ren hurled it forward. Only incredibly powerful kizo users or Royals had the ability to use special techniques like this. Normal kizo users didn't have enough ki for it.
The projectile screamed across the arena, splitting the air apart.
Yuki stepped forward and thrust his hand toward the ground.
The floor ruptured.
Jagged black ice shot upward, rising like the teeth of some ancient beast. The structure was not smooth or elegant. It was brutal. Obsidian-dark and edged like shattered glass.
The Thunder Spear struck.
Impact.
The explosion swallowed the center of the arena in blinding light and roaring force. Lightning scattered in wild arcs, lashing against the barrier and illuminating the cube in violent flashes.
Ren was pushed backward several steps, boots carving lines into the floor.
Yuki did not move.
When the smoke thinned, the ice wall remained, cracked but standing.
The arena detonated with cheers.
"He blocked it!"
"Since when can he do that?!"
"He has an ice kizo?!"
The jagged ice crumbled into glittering fragments.
Yuki didn't hesitate
.
Black frost surged across his body, forming layer after layer until a full suit of dark, spartan-style armor encased him on the helmet only two glowing slits served as eyes. Angular. Sharp. Regal in its severity.
Gasps erupted.
His voice rang out, clear and steady.
"Don't tell me you forgot I had a kizo, Kyorin."
The crowd roared.
This was the first time he had used it since the tournament started.
Ren braced himself.
Yuki vanished forward.
His armored fist drove toward Ren's face. Ren twisted aside and countered instantly, slamming a punch into Yuki's midsection.
The lightning exploded on impact—
And died against the armor.
The electricity crawled uselessly over black frost before dissipating.
Ren's eyes widened.
Yuki's elbow slammed into his ribs.
Crack.
A gauntleted fist smashed into his jaw.
Crack.
Ren stumbled back, trying to regain his rhythm, but something was off.
He was still shaken.
That killing intent had fractured his composure.
Yuki pressed.
Punch after punch rained down. The armor amplified his physical strength, each strike landing with crushing weight.
Ren dodged, but sloppily now. Too wide. Too late.
A hook connected with his cheek.
A knee drove into his stomach.
A straight punch crushed into his ribs.
A spinning kick caught him under the jaw.
Ren hit the ground hard.
The stadium exploded into noise.
Ren struggled onto his knees, breathing ragged. Blood dripped from his mouth. His arms trembled as he tried to push himself upright. He remained on his knees for a while.
The commentator's voice finally broke through the silence.
"Victory goes to Yuki Kinatarou!"
Across from him, Yuki's armor dissolved into drifting frost.
He staggered forward—
Then dropped to one knee.
A violent cough tore from his chest.
Blood splattered onto the floor as he vomited another mouthful.
The electricity.
It was still tearing through him.
The crowd fell quiet again.
"He's hurt too…"
Ren lifted his head slowly.
Disappointment flooded his expression.
He had been certain.
Certain he would win.
Certain he would carry his family's pride cleanly into the finals.
Instead, he knelt, bruised and bleeding.
Yuki crawled forward and knelt in front of him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Yuki leaned closer.
"Stand proud, Ren," he said quietly, low enough that only Ren could hear. "That was pure luck."
Ren frowned weakly.
"If we fought again," Yuki continued, wiping blood from his lip, "I'd lose. You're stronger than me. Ren Kyorin."
Ren stared at him.
Really looked at him.
Blood trickled from Yuki's nose, mouth… even his ears.
His body was trembling uncontrollably.
And yet his eyes—
Were warm.
Ren understood then.
Why Seri followed him so relentlessly.
Why people gravitated toward him.
It wasn't just the reckless courage.
It wasn't just the strength.
It was this.
He could crush you.
And still lift you back up.
Ren exhaled a humorless laugh.
"Whatever," he muttered. "We both know how your fight with Derek ends."
His eyes shifted briefly toward the stands.
"Just… take care of my cousin. She likes trailing behind you."
The bitterness was gone.
Only tired acceptance remained.
Yuki smiled faintly.
"I'll try."
The stadium erupted into thunderous applause.
Ren rose slowly and walked toward the exit, battered but lighter somehow.
Yuki remained kneeling for a moment longer, staring at the blood on his hands.
Then he stood.
Barely.
As he walked off the stage, the announcer's voice boomed again.
"A ten-minute intermission before the finals! The last match of the tournament will be between Yuki Kinatarou and Derek Uzushi!"
The reaction was immediate.
Deafening.
This was the fight everyone had been waiting for.
Light versus frost.
Precision versus instinct.
Monster versus anomaly.
In the stands, Derek rose slowly.
His bored expression had finally vanished.
For the first time all day—
He looked interested.
And at the center of it all, Yuki walked toward the preparation area, body trembling, insides still burning from twenty thousand volts.
Determined.
The storm was not over.
It had only chosen a new opponent.