"Lord Shaka!!!"
In the flame-engulfed forest, a voice filled with anxiety and self-reproach rang out suddenly. Then a purple figure burst through the sea of fire.
Yamato no Mikoto gripped her sword hilt, her gaze fixed on the evolved giant bull. The beast was still reveling in its triumph when Yamato appeared before it.
"Hmph, fool." If the Minotaur could speak, it would have spat those words. Only when Yamato drew her katana shimmering with purple demonic light, did the beast realize it was already on its last legs.
Devouring the magic stones and completing its evolution had restored some strength and hardened its body, but scorching burns, coupled with thin oxygen in the air, left its movements painfully sluggish.
A purple streak flashed. The giant bull felt its arm go numb as its grip on Shaka's ankle snapped clean off at the root. Yamato grabbed Shaka and rolled several times, putting distance between them and the battlefield.
"Lord Shaka! Wake up please wake up!" Yamato shook him, worry etched across her face. Without hesitation, she rummaged through Shaka's belongings for supplies.
Shaka doesn't have much, only simple stamina potions and a bottle of mental restoration fluid. Yamato opened them all and fed him the mixture.
"Cough, cough..." Shaka slowly opened his eyes and met Yamato's gaze. "You... how did you get back here?"
"Captain and the others are safe now. I came to help you!" Yamato's tone was firm like a noble warrior who would never abandon a companion.
"Heh." Shaka let out a bitter laugh, his voice dejected. "Then we'll all die here. That Minotaur was already an enhanced variant, and now it's consumed magic stones from other monsters,it has a Level 3 potential."
He sighed deeply. "We can't win."
With his top-tier Level 1 stats (amplified by skills to match a typical Level 2 monster) and magic boosts, Shaka could barely hold his own against mid-tier Level 2 foes. But Level 3 was an insurmountable chasm—a complete qualitative shift. Even a severely wounded Level 3 creature was beyond two novice Level 1 adventurers.
Yet Yamato spoke with unshakable confidence. "We can win, we still have hope! I prepared a trump card!"
The bull roared, clutching its severed arm as black blood streamed from the stump. A foul stench seeped from its skin and spread through the air. Shaka sat up and saw the scene clearly.
"I brought poison!" Yamato explained. "The Cat demon venom, I coated my blade with it."
A glimmer of hope sparked in Shaka's heart. After a moment's hesitation, he asked, "Can you hold it off for one minute?"
Yamato's eyes flashed with determination as she nodded vigorously. "Yes!" Against a fully healthy Level 3, she would never make such a claim but with injuries, burns, oxygen deprivation, and poison stacking up against the beast, she was confident she could buy time.
"Good."
Shaka struggled to his feet, the potions granting him one last burst of strength. The magic sustaining Black Cat and the others had long since faded, and his mental energy was finally recovering enough to unleash one more powerful attack.
He began chanting, the Wings of Justice emblem blooming behind him once more as flames rose from his body. He charged forward, and started weaving a spell as he moved.
"—I call upon the name of the Supreme One, with utmost trepidation—"
Parallel spellcasting? No this haphazard mix of movement and incantation was hardly worthy of the name. It was an emergency measure; he focused every ounce of concentration to avoid accidental detonation. Normally, one would never use unfamiliar techniques in combat but this was a gamble they had to take.
The giant bull shrieked and swung its blood-dripping arm at Yamato. Black blood sprayed outward, but Yamato dodged deftly...
[We, the invincible martial gods, are protected by the noble heavens.]
She closed in, her movements precise. Since her earlier defeat at Shaka's hands, she had studied combat patterns closely and correctly judged the length of the bull's reach to avoid a fatal blow. With a sliding tackle, her poisoned katana sliced across the beast's crotch, drawing another gush of black blood. The venom spread further.
The bull's movements grew slower still, but the risk remained one hit would leave Yamato unable to fight.
The chant continued:
"Bestow upon this humble body the divine power to make it noble. Save, light of purification, blade of destruction."
Yamato circled the beast like a matador, aiming to keep it wounded and off-balance. Sensing a powerful attack in the works, the bull summoned its last strength and slammed its arm to the ground. The earth rumbled and trembled. Yamato's feet went numb, her legs buckling as she nearly fell to her knees.
The bull roared and charged, horns aimed straight at her. The incantation neared its end Yamato gave up evasion entirely, pouring all her focus into completing the spell:
"Sweep away, scabbard of pacification, spirit sword of conquest. Now, here, I summon those who bear my name. Descend from the heavens, and unify the earth Divine Martial Conquest!"
A purple magic circle unfurled. A giant sword descended with crushing gravity, piercing the bull and pinning it in place. Yamato clasped her index fingers tightly, compressing the gravity field into a purple cube that squeezed and bound the beast's body.
Seconds dragged by just as she felt her strength failing, something shifted.
The surrounding flames vanished?
The raging forest fire suddenly surged in one direction, swirling and clinging to Shaka's form.
At that moment, Shaka clenched his fist and raised it overhead. A small flame ignited in his palm, drawing in every last ember from the thousand-meter radius around them. The fire converged on the core in his hand until Shaka was completely engulfed transformed into a towering figure of flame.
"Ughh..."
The world fell silent.
The crimson blaze faded to gray and white, leaving only carbonized trees stripped of leaves, revealing the starry night sky above. Within thousands of meters, Shaka was the only light source radiating terrifying heat.
Yamato's gravity magic shattered, and she collapsed to the ground. The Minotaur broke free of its restraints and let out an exhilarated roar.
Then Shaka moved.
He wrapped his fist around the searing fire core, compressing the immense heat into a single blow that he hurled at the giant bull.
"One Hundred and Eighth Style:Orochinagi!"
The condensed heart of the forest fire erupted in a terrifying whirlwind of flame that struck the beast head-on. Its massive body twisted and dissolved in the blaze, leaving nothing but a charred black hide that crumpled to the ground.
Shaka went limp and fell forward, his face blank as he stared at the lava-darkened earth.
PS.One hundred and eight style orochinagi is a move from the king of fighters