Everyone was still in shock after Yamato uprooted the ancient sword. Yet, what unsettled them most wasn't just the sword, it was his eyes.
One of the history teachers whispered with trembling lips "Those eyes… once shone on the moon 800 years ago. The death of Yoochi… I thought it was only a myth, but now… I'm beginning to believe the story."The school remained in confusion, but the shock only deepened when Kuria, who had been lying lifeless minutes ago, suddenly stood, bewildered, unable to comprehend how she was alive after being killed.
The assassin trembled under the crushing weight of Yamato's overwhelming aura. His legs shook uncontrollably, but desperation pushed him forward.
Abandoning his original target, he fixed his sights solely on Yamato, recognizing the boy as the true threat. But Yamato himself was unconscious, his mind drifting in a void-like realm, a vast transverse universe field. Before him floated six radiant crystal spheres, each glowing in a different color: blue, red, yellow, navy, purple, and white.
Confused and drawn to their light, Yamato reached out and touched the blue crystal.
Back in the real world, Denji desperately tried to hold off the assassin, but his efforts failed.
Just as the blade neared Yamato, a burst of spirit energy exploded from Yamato's body, repelling everyone at incredible speed. The assassin's eyes widened in terror.
"What the hell… is this kid? That energy… it's monstrous."
Moments later, Yamato's eyes snapped open. They glowed like crystalline blue gems, shimmering with an infinite depth that silenced the entire crowd.
Asami froze, her heart racing, she could see again. Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered to herself:
"Was it… Yamato's power that restored my sight?"
The assassin, driven half-mad by fear and fascination, lunged at Yamato. But Yamato had already awakened the first divine power of Yoochi: "The god of Learning." With it, he could perceive and predict every movement, every strike before it even happened.
Calmly, Yamato evaded the assassin's furious attacks, each dodge precise and flawless.
Then, with a single motion, he slashed across the assassin's chest, staggering him.
Yet the assassin was relentless. Using his ability to suppress powers, he tried to disarm Yamato's energy. But destiny had already chosen the outcome.
A deep voice echoed in Yamato's mind:
"Use the Kyuo."
Raising his hand, Yamato whispered:
"Kyuo."
A glowing, sphere-like construct emerged, spinning above his palm. Channeling his energy into one finger, Yamato aimed at his opponent and released it.
The energy pierced through the assassin's chest, carving a deep hole straight through his heart. The assassin collapsed lifelessly at Yamato's feet, the school drowned in silence, shocked and breathless.
Asami clutched her chest, her thoughts trembling:
"When… did he gain a power this terrifying? To end a life with such ease…"
Yamato's eyes, luminous and otherworldly, not only radiated raw power… but a beauty so profound it left everyone entranced.
As Yamato's glowing eyes slowly dimmed back to normal, his body collapsed beside the fallen assassin.
The courtyard, still heavy with shock, turned silent.
Moments later, the wail of sirens echoed in the distance.
The Ambulance Unit and the Tag Force rushed onto the scene, their boots striking the ground with urgency. "We received the emergency call, we're here to help!" one of the officers barked. But it was already too late. The assassin's corpse lay motionless, and Yamato's body rested only inches away. The Tag Force moved swiftly.
They lifted the assassin's corpse into a containment shroud, then distributed antidote vials to the wounded teachers. As the medicine coursed through their veins, color returned to their faces.
After ensuring stability, the officers turned to the teachers.
"We need answers. What exactly happened here?"
Before the teachers could respond, the history teacher stepped forward, his tone steady,
"It was… Asami. She saved everyone."
The Tag Force exchanged glances. They nodded without hesitation, for Asami's reputation as one of the academy's strongest was well known. All except one man accepted the claim, the Head Captain.
Later, away from prying ears, the captain pulled the history teacher aside. His voice was low but commanding:
"Don't lie to me. I know it wasn't Asami. I can still feel the boy's energy, even in his unconscious state… Tell me everything."
The history teacher froze, but he had no choice. In hushed tones, he recounted the impossible events, Yamato's awakening, the Kyuo, and the assassin's death.
The captain listened in silence, his expression unreadable. When the story ended, he placed a firm hand on the teacher's shoulder.
"You have my word, I won't speak of this to anyone. You can count on me for that."
His eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.
"But listen carefully. That boy is dangerous. If this is only the beginning of his power… then one day, he may stand among the League."
He turned his back, his cloak shifting in the wind.
"For now, let fate decide his path."
"Breathe… breathe…"
The voice echoed faintly, pulling Yamato from the void. His eyes fluttered open, the blinding white of the hospital ceiling filling his vision. He stirred, instinctively trying to sit up but a firm, calm voice stopped him.
"Don't think about moving just yet."
Startled, Yamato turned his head. Sitting in the corner of the room was an old man with a staff resting by his side. His presence carried an air of mystery, yet his expression was sharp.
Yamato's eyes narrowed. "…Who are you, geezer?"
The old man's forehead twitched in irritation.
"It's Mr. Shaman to you, boy."
Yamato blinked. "Shaman? As in… Shaman King, like in the mangas?"
The old man let out a long, exasperated sigh, his shoulders slumping.
"I was about to be angry with you… but now, I just feel sorry. Did you break your head along with awakening those powers?"
Yamato tilted his head, confused yet amused. His sharp gaze met the old man's, curiosity sparking.
"…So you're telling me you're some kind of real shaman?" The old man smirked faintly, gripping his staff.
"More than that. But whether you believe me or not, boy, your path has already begun. And you" his tone darkened, "have no idea what you've awakened?" Yamato kept silent, his gaze falling to the palm of his hand.
"…I really don't know," he admitted quietly.
The Shaman closed his eyes, bowing his head as if in thought. Then, in a low, steady voice he said:
"If you truly wish to understand yourself… quit this academy, and meet me."
He flicked his wrist, and a small card glided through the air, landing softly beside Yamato's bed. An address was scrawled across it in symbols Yamato barely recognize.
"You have one week to decide,"
the Shaman continued, his tone carrying the weight of inevitability.
"Your journey has only just begun… and whether you're ready or not, you're destined to change the world."
Yamato's eyes widened, his chest tightening with unease.
"Wait.. ! What do you mean by... "
But before the words left his lips, the chair in the corner was empty. The Shaman had vanished without a trace, leaving only the faint hum of energy lingering in the room. Yamato gripped the card tightly, his thoughts spiraling.
"…Change the world? Me?"
Within the week, Yamato returned to the academy. He was quieter now, his eyes sharper, his presence commanding without effort. Something about him had changed, he carried himself with a calm intensity that drew every gaze. Even the teachers whispered.
He was permitted to join the prestigious Jinju Class, a place only the strongest students could enter. To everyone's shock, his marks surpassed expectations, every test, every spar, every challenge, Yamato excelled in effortlessly. Even Asami, once seen as untouchable, found herself overshadowed. And yet, behind all this success, Yamato's heart felt heavy. He could not shake the old man's words.
"Quit the academy. Meet me. Your journey begins now."
It was during this time that Kuria from another class began speaking to him. At first, it was casual, but little by little, they confided in one another, sharing secrets no one else knew. When Yamato finally told her of the Shaman's advice, Kuria looked him straight in the eyes and said:
"It's a good idea. If it's you, I know you'll succeed. I'm rooting for you."
Friday came, the end of the academy week. Yamato packed all his belongings from his parents' house and stopped by Kuria's home, since she lived alone. They talked for a while, the air heavy with unspoken feelings. At last, Yamato stood and said:
"It's time. I should get going."
Before he could take a step, Kuria caught his sleeve. Her voice trembled, and tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.
"I'll let you go… but only on one condition. Promise me you'll be alright. And… promise me we'll meet again. Whether as friends or as foes, promise me."
Yamato turned, a faint smile breaking through his usual calm. He pulled her into a firm embrace.
"We'll meet again. Thank you, for everything. Take care of yourself, Kuria."
He left into the night, his silhouette fading into the distance. Behind him, Kuria fell to her knees, her tears flowing freely.
"What an interesting guy… I wish I'd known him sooner."
As Yamato walked along the empty road, his thoughts on the journey ahead, a sudden voice cut through the silence.
"Wait."
He froze and turned slowly. There, standing in the shadows, was Asami.
Asami's voice broke the silence.
"I know, Yamato… I know about your departure. I heard everything in class. Please, don't go."
Her words trembled, but Yamato remained calm. His tone was steady, almost cold.
"It's dangerous out here in the night. You should go home, Asami."
But she didn't move. Instead, her emotions spilled out in a flood.
"You don't understand! I've always… always loved you. From the very beginning. I only kept my distance to protect you, so no one would bully you. But if you still insist on leaving, then let me come with you. Please. I know the academy's training is nothing compared to what you'll face out there, but I don't care. I'd rather fight at your side than lose you."
Yamato's expression didn't waver. He took one step forward, his shadow stretching beneath the moonlight. His eyes glowed an icy blue, piercing through her with silent intensity.
In the blink of an eye, he was behind her. She gasped, but before she could react, Yamato gently clasped a necklace around her neck. His voice was low, pained.
"Goodbye, Asami… Thank you for everything."
A single strike to the back of her neck, quick and precise, she collapsed into his arms, unconscious. He laid her down softly, brushing away a strand of hair from her face. His own hair fell over his eyes, hiding the sorrow carved into his expression. Then, without looking back, he walked into the night. His figure was swallowed by the darkness, carrying nothing but his burden, and his destiny.
But Yamato had no idea…
That beyond the horizon, a fate awaited him far more dangerous than anything he could imagine.