The ground cracked under the weight of silence.
Hyung Hun dragged Fate across the battlefield by the collar, his boots grinding into the dirt. Fate's lifeless body trailed behind him, leaving a trail of blood. With a brutal swing, the old man tossed him toward Shingo like a broken doll.
Shingo's trembling hands reached out helplessly as Fate crashed beside him.
Hyung Hun stepped forward, resting his sword on his shoulder, and grinned.
"Any last words?"
Shingo bowed his head.
His body quivered.... not from fear, but from disbelief.
Doubt, grief, and rage swirled inside him. His vision blurred, his heartbeat slowed, and in that dark stillness, every moment of his life flashed before his eyes.
No light. No hope. Just emptiness.
The old man's voice cut through the silence like steel.
"It's over."
He raised his sword high...
but the next instant, a metallic clang split the air.
A figure had appeared between them, his blade stopping Hyung Hun's strike effortlessly.
Sparks scattered in the air.
Shingo looked up, vision hazy, trying to make out the shape.
The figure stood tall, his stance unwavering. As the dust settled and the light returned, Shingo's eyes widened.
"Y–Yamato…?"
The old man stepped back, eyes narrowing. "You? Have you lost your mind, bounty hunter? Why defend your worst enemies?"
Yamato didn't answer. His head hung low, his face shadowed by his hair. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from anger.
He had been there all along, watching the fight… watching everything.
Finally, he spoke, his voice sharp and heavy.
"You know what's worse, old man?
Someone who dares to strike down his own comrades."
Hyung Hun smirked. "Oh? So you've been paying attention after all."
Yamato raised his head slightly, his jaw tight. "Yeah," he said coldly, "and I think you're just an arrogant old geezer."
He pressed his palm against Shingo and Fate's chests.
A warm blue light enveloped them both, their wounds closed instantly, the blood vanished, and their breathing steadied.
Hyung Hun raised an eyebrow.
"So you do possess the power of healing.
Interesting. Come then, Six Eyes.
Defeating you will raise my stats higher than any bounty. Bring it on."
Yamato lifted his head completely this time. His eyes opened, pale blue, lifeless, yet glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. No warmth. No mercy. Just pure fury wrapped in silence.
The air began to distort.
Wind howled violently as the ground cracked beneath him.
Rocks levitated, trees bent backward, and even the clouds above started swirling.
Hyung Hun staggered a step back, his grin fading. "Such pressure… what is this…?"
He tried to move, but the crushing weight of Yamato's aura pulled him down to one knee.
The once-arrogant old man now felt the suffocating truth.
This was no ordinary man.
This was the awakening…of the Six Eyes.
The air trembled.
Hyung Hun regained his footing, his breathing steady once more.
Behind him, Shingo and Fate began to stir — their wounds gone, their bodies restored as if the brutal fight had never happened.
Yet, both remained frozen, eyes locked on the mysterious figure standing before them.
Yamato Ishida.
Before either could blink, Yamato vanished.
A shockwave cracked the earth — and suddenly, he stood before Hyung Hun, blade already drawn.
A bright line of silver light cut across the man's chest.
Hyung Hun's eyes widened. "Impossible!"
He quickly activated his ability, reversing time by five seconds.
In an instant, Yamato's slash never happened.
He smirked, ready to counterattack.
But before his sword could swing,
A second Yamato appeared behind him.
Steel tore through flesh.
Blood splattered the ground.
Hyung Hun collapsed to his knees, confusion twisting his face.
"This can't be… b-but how…?"
Yamato turned, his voice calm and emotionless.
"That was my clone."
"C–clone? What do you mean your clone!?"
Hyung Hun shouted, trembling.
He lunged again, but Yamato barely moved, his blade rose effortlessly, blocking every strike with chilling precision.
His pale blue eyes glowed faintly under the dust-filled air.
"Don't… don't look at me like that!!" screamed Hyung Hun, his rage boiling over.
His body began to twist and warp.
Muscles tore through his skin.
Two massive horns emerged from his forehead.
Tattoo-like markings, numbers, seconds, hours, spread across his arms like living ink. Within seconds, he was no longer human.
A monster stood in his place, the embodiment of time itself.
Behind him, Shingo slowly stood.
He tore off his tattered Koruzan uniform, pulling out a small metallic box. It unfolded mechanically, wrapping him in a black jacket over a gray shirt, matching trousers, and sneakers.
He slid his sword neatly into a compact sheath at his back.
He tossed a similar case to Fate, who caught it midair and followed suit.
As the box dissolved into particles of light, Fate looked at him in disbelief.
"What do you think you're doing? Don't tell me.... you've resigned from the Koruzan!?"
Shingo kept his gaze fixed on the transforming beast. His voice was quiet, but firm.
"Fate… if we kill a fellow Koruzan member, do you really think the world government will let us live freely?"
Fate froze.
Understanding dawned in silence.
He said nothing, only tightened his grip on his sword.
Meanwhile, Yamato stood unmoving, facing the monstrous Hyung Hun.
The beast grinned, eyes glowing red.
"Finally… I've reached the climax. I am time itself."
He looked at a nearby wall.
Instantly, the building behind Yamato exploded into dust.
"I destroyed that… minutes ago," he sneered.
Yamato raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Hm… doesn't make a difference."
With a roar, Hyung Hun lunged forward and vanished.
He reappeared behind Yamato, then beside him, slashing from multiple timelines at once.
But no matter how many times he struck, it always ended the same —
A deep cut across his back.
Over and over again.0
The monster gasped, stumbling forward, blood pouring freely. His sword slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground.
"Yamato Ishida!!!" he screamed. "Why can't I hit you!? WHY!?"
Yamato exhaled slowly, raising his fingers... thumb brushing against his index.
"Simple," he said calmly.
"In a split second, I slash around my area faster than the human eye can perceive.
When you attack me… what you're really fighting..... "
He stepped forward, eyes glowing brighter.
"…are the reflections left behind by my blade".
The monster's grin widened into something feral. "Then I'll do this, Time Lapse."
The world snapped.
A hush like the breath of gods fell over the battlefield. Birds hung frozen mid-flap.
Dust stopped half-fall. The very air congealed into glass.
Hyung Hun moved through that stillness with a cold, triumphant gait, savoring the silence he'd stolen. He laughed softly, the sound swallowed by a motionless sky.
"I should have been in the League by now," he murmured to himself, voice thick with years of bitterness.
"All this holding back… to kill a child. Fine. I'll end him first.... Yamato Ishida."
He surged forward through the frozen tableau like a blade cutting through ice.
Everything, every plan, every counter, came down to the single moment when Hyung Hun's horned form reached for Yamato's heart.
Then the world slammed back to motion.
Yamato's blade erupted through the old man's chest, clean and merciless.
Blood sprayed; Hyung Hun's cry was raw and shocked. For the first time in the entire fight, the monster's expression broke.
"How... again? How could you..... " he rasped, breathless, eyes wide with an animal fear that had never touched him before.
Yamato's face was calm, almost courteous. "Simple," he said, voice low.
The faint blue light in his eyes steadied like a calm sea. "I built a barrier like yours after I watched you. Not as large, only a few miles. But your time trick can't touch me inside it."
Hyung Hun's pupils fluttered with disbelief as the wound widened. He coughed, tasting his own ruin.
Around them the battlefield hummed back to life, shouts, groans, the distant fall of rubble.
The old man's power, once a godlike certainty, now leaked away like smoke through fingers.
Shingo and Fate, staggered to their feet.
Both looked at Yamato with a mixture of awe and hunger, the kind born when a new gate opens in a fight and the path to the end reveals itself.
"Let us.... please," Shingo rasped, voice raw. "Give the final strike."
Fate's grin was savage and bright in the dust-streaked light. "Yeah. Finish it. Put an end to this bastard."
Yamato's mouth curved into a small, feral smile. He lifted his sword from the old man's chest, letting the blood drip and smoke on his blade. The blue glow in his eyes flared a fraction. "About time, guys."
He stepped back, hands steady. Around them the storm of battle calmed as if the world were holding its breath. The three of them, Yamato, Shingo, and Fate... moved as one.
The old man let his sword slip from his grasp, the blade clattering against the cracked ground.
"Since my powers will have no effect," he said, his voice deep and calm, "I'll go on with my fists."
Yamato said nothing.
He dropped his own sword as well, raising his hands like a boxer ready for battle.
Beside him, Fate and Shingo mirrored his stance. Without hesitation, they dashed forward together, the air around them trembling from their power.
The old man's punches came fast, precise and heavy, each strike aimed to crush Yamato where he stood.
Yamato countered fiercely, their fists clashing like thunder.
But just as the old man prepared his next attack, Shingo appeared from the side with a sharp kick.
The old man blocked it in time, sliding backward across the dirt.
Then, from behind him, a familiar voice echoed through the ruined streets.
"Sword of Everlasting Light!"
A storm of radiant beams shot from Fate's hands, streaking toward the old man. But he moved through them effortlessly, weaving between the rays like smoke in the wind.
In that moment, Yamato appeared before him.
His right hand was raised, his thumb pressing against his longest finger, a strange gesture, as if he were preparing to flick something unseen.
"Kyuo," he whispered.
From the contact point of his fingers, a brilliant blue light burst forth.
The beam tore through the city, melting buildings and tearing the ground apart. The shockwave rippled outward, leaving only silence in its wake.
The old man stood in the midst of the destruction, his body scorched, his clothes ripped to shreds.
His eyes widened, not in fear, but in disbelief as Shingo leaped high above him.
"Demon Style: Ramon!"
A black beam of pure energy erupted from Shingo's finger, slicing through the air and striking the old man directly. The light consumed him, and in an instant, he was gone.
Silence fell again. Smoke curled into the sky. The battle was over.
Yamato walked forward, meeting Shingo and Fate amidst the wreckage. "Wow," he said with a small smile. "You guys have interesting powers. Nice job there."
But Shingo wasn't smiling. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered, "I've made myself a criminal. Who would help or save me now?"
Yamato placed a hand gently on his shoulder. His voice was calm, steady, almost comforting. "Do you want peace and freedom?"
Shingo looked up at him, eyes red. "If that was possible," he said, "I'd gladly take it."
Yamato smiled faintly. "Then follow me."
He turned and began to walk away. The light of the burning city reflected on his back, giving him an almost divine glow like the hope of a broken world.
Shingo wiped his tears, feeling something stir within him.
He stood and followed Yamato without hesitation. Fate glanced at the two of them, then smiled softly and followed as well.
Together, they disappeared into the distance, three warriors who had survived the fire, now walking toward a new dawn.