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墨書 Inktalez
Mako Nakagawa stood firm, her eyes burning like fierce flames, the blade of her sword pointed vertically toward the ground in front of her, resembling a volcano on the verge of eruption. The fiery patterns on the blade grew brighter, the orange-red glow gradually transforming into real flames that spread along the edge. The flames danced, emitting a low hum, as if gathering strength for the impending ultimate strike.
"Tiger's Might, Extreme, Final Form," she whispered the name of her technique, her voice low and steady, imbued with an unshakeable resolve.
At that moment, the air became scalding hot, flames raging on the blade as if they were alive. Mako Nakagawa gripped the hilt tightly, her body slightly sinking as all her power concentrated in her arms and waist. With a fierce shout, she swung the blade upward.
The sword sliced through the air with a deafening roar. It was not just a strike; it was a fierce tiger made of flames surging forth from her blade. The outline of the fire tiger was clear, its eyes burning like molten lava, its massive form charged with destructive momentum as it lunged toward Sano Kagehisa, incinerating everything in its path.
Sano Kagehisa quickly raised his twin swords to cross in front of him, attempting to block this unmatched blow. However, this fire tiger was not merely a combination of speed and skill; it embodied absolute power. The moment their weapons clashed, a piercing sound of metal tearing filled the air, and he felt excruciating pain in his arms as he was forcefully sent flying by this earth-shattering force.
"Boom!"
The fire tiger tore through the air and crashed to the ground, erupting into a cloud of dust and flames. The ground trembled as if an earthquake had struck, debris and ash scattering everywhere. Sano Kagehisa's figure vanished amidst this cataclysmic impact, leaving everyone stunned into silence by the spectacle before them.
Dust rose high, obscuring visibility. The crowd outside held their breath, their eyes fixed on the cloud of dust as they tried to discern Sano Kagehisa's condition. Someone whispered, "Is he still alive?" While many others could only widen their eyes in anticipation, waiting for an answer.
Mako Nakagawa maintained her stance with the sword raised, her gaze filled with unwavering confidence. The flames continued to burn on her blade, adding an aura of divine majesty to her presence. The remnants of fire scattered in the breeze; her breathing quickened slightly, but her focus remained locked on the smoke, waiting for any sign of movement.
A man seated on the East Side gently swirled his teacup; ripples formed against the cup's wall, mirroring his current state of mind—calm yet concealing unfathomable depths. A hint of lingering amusement played on his lips; his eyes sparkled not with concern for the duel but with a mocking detachment as if everything unfolding before him was merely entertainment crafted for his enjoyment rather than a life-and-death confrontation.
His gaze swept across the arena where dust still lingered; within the swirling gray mist, no movement could be seen. The surrounding crowd held their breath in silence—some filled with anticipation while others showed signs of unease. Suddenly, however, he threw back his head and burst into hearty laughter that echoed across the square, startling those nearby into a slight tremor. His smile was bold and carefree, as if none of this mattered to him at all.
"Isn't this supposed to be a duel that stops short?" He lifted his teacup and traced his finger around its rim casually. His tone dripped with sarcasm as he slowly turned his gaze toward the woman on the West Side, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. "It seems your warrior doesn't understand what restraint means. Clearly, Yang Chuan's teaching methods are indeed unique and astonishing."
The woman smiled faintly upon hearing his words, a gentle smile that made it impossible to discern her thoughts. She reached up to smooth a stray lock of hair at her temple, her movements calm and graceful, as if she had not taken the man's words to heart at all. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, a glimmer of teasing light in her eyes, and replied in a measured tone, "I'm sorry, but in Yang Chuan, this is already considered lenient."
She paused for a moment, the smile on her lips growing more pronounced as her tone turned playful. "I'm afraid Wu Jing's warriors might not be able to withstand such intensity. However, since you believe improvements are necessary, we will take note for next time."
As soon as she finished speaking, she suddenly burst into hearty laughter. The sound was straightforward and cheerful, yet carried an undertone of sharpness, as if it had pierced through the man's facade. The onlookers exchanged furtive glances, seemingly cheering for the verbal sparring between the two.
The man's smile dimmed slightly, but he still maintained an air of unshakeable confidence. He slowly set down his teacup and lightly tapped his fingers against his knee, as if providing a silent accompaniment to the waiting atmosphere. His gaze shifted back to the swirling dust of the duel arena, his eyes deep and filled with an unyielding calmness and indifference.
"Regardless," he said in a low voice that was not loud yet resonated clearly and powerfully, each word like a meticulously carved stone striking the ears of those present, "a good show should not end so hastily."
His gaze seemed capable of piercing through the thick smoke, reaching deep into the dust to capture every subtle change within. His fingers continued to tap rhythmically on his knee as if counting down to some impending moment. The playful smile had vanished from his face, replaced by an inscrutable calmness laced with anticipation.
Mako Nakagawa's body suddenly froze; her previously composed expression vanished in an instant, replaced by an intense focus and vigilance. Her pupils constricted slightly, akin to a beast sensing danger instinctively. She slowly raised her fiery red blade, its tip trembling slightly as if trying to detect some invisible threat. The air around them seemed to thicken with an eerie sense of pressure.
Whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
"What’s going on? Didn't she just win?"
"Yeah, with that strike, even if her opponent isn't dead, there's no way they could stand again."
"Who is she guarding against?"
Confused voices rose and fell; no one understood why Mako Nakagawa had suddenly entered such a state of heightened alert. Yet her expression suggested she had sensed some inexplicable crisis, making even her breathing cautious and measured.
Suddenly, her footsteps shifted, and her entire body spun rapidly, the blade tracing a perfect arc aimed directly behind her. Though there was nothing there, her movements were astonishingly swift, as if she were battling an invisible foe.
At that moment—
“Clang!”
The sound of metal colliding erupted, ringing in the ears of the crowd. Everyone stared in disbelief, for before Mako Nakagawa's blade, there was indeed some force resisting her attack. It was invisible yet carried a sense of destructive pressure, like a silent beast drawing near, ready to unleash its fury.
“What’s happening?”
“What hit her?”
Just as the crowd's gasps echoed, Mako Nakagawa's body was suddenly propelled backward, stumbling five or six steps until she barely steadied herself by bracing her blade against the ground. A look of unprecedented shock crossed her face; the knife in her hand trembled slightly. Even a seasoned warrior like her could not immediately comprehend what had just occurred.
The scene fell into a hushed silence, all eyes focused on the swirling dust, as everyone pondered one question—what kind of power could force Mako Nakagawa to retreat?
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