Veil of Aether

The twin vipers dove.

Fast.

Each one tore through the storm toward its target, jaws wide and runes blazing.

High above them, Kei Y stood within the howling wind.

Relaxed.

Orange light burned behind his eyes.

Enjoyment.

Izanami did not move.

She watched the Ember-Ash viper descend on her like an execution.

Then the jewel in her hand pulsed.

Her soul pressed outward.

A visible weight slammed into the air.

The viper slowed mid-lunge as if colliding with an invisible wall, its fangs hanging a breath from her face. Heat rolled off its scales in choking waves.

Reddish-gray hide shimmered with a faded gold-scaled sheen.

Fire crawled across its jaw.

Izanami smiled.

“Hot,” she murmured approvingly.

Her eyes glinted as she studied the beast, frozen in front of her.

“Those rune strokes…”

The jewel flared brighter.

“…are beautiful.”

She lifted her gaze toward the storm.

Toward the boy inside it.

“Accepting the challenges of two Crown Princes at once…”

Her smile widened.

“…you really are daring.”

“Sleep,” she whispered gently.

The viper pressing against the weight of her soul trembled, its eyes flickering as if something unseen had brushed across its core. Kei Y frowned slightly. “Huh?” he muttered under his breath. “What did she just do…? Why do my rune strokes feel… wrong?”

It felt like his control was being softened.

Like static creeping into his mind.

He tried to pull his rune strokes back under control, but they slipped through his intent, just barely out of reach. Before he could dwell on it any further, the Ember-Ash viper began to destabilize, its form warping—and then a crushing pressure barreled toward him.

Kei reacted instantly.

Storm wind surged forward, gathering in a dense spiral in front of him, the rushing wind forming a powerful barrier that swallowed the incoming force and obscured his presence completely.

Izanami felt a flicker of unease the moment the storm hid him from her sight.

Then her instincts screamed.

A strange tingling sensation crawled up her side—

She raised her arms just in time.

A crackling verdant fist slammed into her guard and hurled her across the arena, green lightning ripping through her forearms and into her chest as she skidded across the ground.

“Hm?” Kei Y tilted his head from where he stood. “You actually sensed that…?”

His voice carried genuine surprise.

Izanami pushed herself upright and stared in disbelief.

He had been in the storm.

She saw him there.

But when she looked up, the tempest still churned above, untouched.

Then she looked forward.

Kei Y was already beside her.

Green rune-strokes streamed from his feet like drifting ribbons of light, allowing him to float slightly above the ground as the air warped subtly around him. The presence he emitted now was heavy and volatile, like charged mist hanging just before a lightning strike.

Her eyes flicked to his arms.

Verdant Volt crackled openly.

“…It would’ve been harder to sense you,” she said quietly, “if you weren’t radiating something that felt like a thunderstorm about to explode.”

Kei blinked.

“Oh… yeah. That makes sense.”

Then he nodded with a small smile.

“…Thanks.”

Izanami barely had time to process why he’d thanked her when he vanished.

Pain erupted through her stomach as his fist buried itself into her midsection and launched her backward again, electricity exploding through her nerves and tearing the breath from her lungs. Her thoughts scrambled as her body flew, air refusing to enter her chest as the world spun violently around her.

What…?

She couldn’t even voice the word.

Her stomach screamed.

Her vision blurred.

And ahead of her—

The Ember-Ash viper finished stabilizing, its rune-body igniting fully as it reared back and lunged toward her once more.

The fangs engulfed her.

The viper’s jaws tried to close with her inside, rune-lit teeth grinding as its mouth strained against a barrier of condensed soul-pressure wrapped tightly around her body. The invisible shell held—barely—but it did not shield her from the inferno within.

Heat rolled over her.

Her skin burned.

First-degree pain flared across her arms and neck as the viper’s breath seared through the barrier like fire through glass.

Izanami clenched her teeth.

Her focus faltered.

Just for a moment.

And Kei Y did not wait.

A deafening crack rang through the air as something heavy dented her barrier from the outside.

The impact rattled her bones.

Her head snapped toward the source—

And her eyes widened.

An atlatl projectile glowed inches from her face, its shaft trembling under pressure as emerald lightning crawled violently along its surface. Verdant Volt surged through the weapon, fed into it through Celestial Infusion, its entire length humming with restrained destruction.

The soul-barrier screamed.

Distorted.

Caved inward.

Each breath became harder than the last as the spear pressed closer, the heat behind her and annihilation in front of her closing in from both sides.

Izanami felt trapped.

The sacred jewel shone brightly as Izanami poured her will into it.

“Repel.”

She locked eyes with Kei Y as she spoke.

A shiver ran down his spine.

The word did not sound dangerous.

But it felt wrong.

Like a crack forming in the air.

He did not wait to understand.

A common-grade calligraphy brush appeared in his hand and he slashed a single word through the air:

Heavy.

The characters burned briefly, then sank into his body.

Macro activated instantly.

Ebb & Flow and Earth surged together, crashing into his frame as gravity multiplied around him. His weight spiked violently, dense enough that the stone beneath his feet groaned in protest.

Then Breeze Force activated.

Wind had already stilled around him.

The instant the wind shifted—

Kei Y moved.

He twisted on one foot and launched a side kick.

Bang.

The impact rattled through his bones.

The same projectile he had just thrown at Izanami slammed into his foot with enough force to crater the ground beneath him. A shockwave burst outward as he skidded backward several steps, boots grinding deep into the stone.

Pain screamed up his leg.

Only then did the truth finally register.

She had reversed it.

“Repel…”

So that was what she meant.

The weapon hadn’t lost momentum.

It hadn’t weakened.

It had simply turned around.

Heavy mass kept him rooted.

Even so, his leg trembled from the strain.

But Izanami didn’t get to breathe.

Because the projectile vanished the moment he kicked it.

Her barrier shattered.

Not violently.

Not explosively.

It simply… ceased to exist.

As if it had been switched off.

As if it had never been there.

Her eyes widened.

“No—”

She slammed more of her will into the sacred jewel, soul pressure detonating outward in desperation. The force erupted in a blinding wave and tore the Ember-Ash viper’s head apart in a violent bloom of heat and shattered rune-light, molten fragments scattering through the air before vanishing into ash.

She fell from its jaws and stumbled backward, gasping.

Her lungs burned.

Her fingers trembled.

Then she looked up.

Kei Y was just lowering his leg.

Green rune-strokes fluttering from his feet, flickering violently as if recovering from detonation. Wind rune strokes crawled along his calves in faint, erratic pulses, refusing to settle.

Behind him, the ground had split open in a massive arc where he had absorbed the reflected strike, evidence of the violent impact he had endured when his own projectile was sent back at him.

Looking behind, she turned around in time to witness the violent ripples of the arena’s barrier from where the projectile struck it.

To defend himself, he had kicked it away, and by sheer luck, the flat of the weapon had struck instead of the point.

If it had been the other way around, Izanami was certain it would have pierced straight through his foot and torn his entire leg off, no matter how firmly he had rooted himself in place.

But she had no time to dwell on the fate of his leg.

As if she had forgotten altogether—

The water within the storm winds began to churn violently.

Izanami turned back to the battlefield, ready to press the offensive now that the viper was gone, the faint burns on her skin proof of how close she’d come to death.

Then Kei Y raised his hand.

And brought it down.

“Low tide—ruin flow.”

“…Huh?”

The word barely left her lips before the world crashed down on her.

Her eyes snapped upward.

“Shit—”

A massive current of water slammed into her from above, the weight crushing the air from her lungs. The Tideborne Eclipse force disrupted her control instantly, dragging her aether from her grasp like it had been ripped from her hands.

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She was drowning.

Not slowly.

Not gently.

She was caught in it.

It felt like being pulled into the tide of the ocean, a relentless surge that tore at her body and thoughts alike. The pressure twisted her limbs, spun her vision, and robbed her of breath in a heartbeat.

She couldn’t defend herself.

Because she couldn’t channel anything.

The current owned her.

And then—

A soft emerald glow appeared above her.

A point of green light wavered gently through the torrent.

Beautiful.

She didn’t have time to question it.

Verdant Volt detonated.

Lightning tore through the water in a violent web, surging into her from every direction. Electricity flooded her nerves instantly, turning her body into a conduit as pain exploded through her chest and spine.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream—

And water rushed in.

Her nose burned.

Her throat filled.

And the lightning followed.

It used the water inside her as a path.

She convulsed violently as Verdant Volt tore through her from the inside out, muscles locking, nerves screaming, veins lighting up in emerald arcs beneath her skin.

Her body jerked.

Then trembled.

Then—

Stopped.

Her eyes remained open.

Unblinking.

Empty.

Kei Y breathed heavily as he canceled the Heavy calligraphy.

The sudden loss of mass nearly wrenched his frame apart, muscles screaming as the crushing weight vanished all at once.

He looked at what remained of Japan’s Crown Princess.

There was no emotion in his eyes.

“Quite ruthless, aren’t you?” Izanami’s voice came from behind him, one hand resting against her chest in mock offense.

He turned back toward the tide of water.

The “Izanami” standing there dissolved like mist.

The real one stood a few steps away, completely unharmed.

“You’re strong,” she said simply. “It seems my Illusion Force will have to work harder for you.”

Pressure radiated from her.

Kei Y’s breath caught as the world twisted out of alignment.

Illusion and truth blended until the battlefield no longer made sense.

His Breeze Force surged outward, trying to map the space through air currents—

And failed.

Every wind was wrong.

Every sensation lied.

He met her eyes and exhaled.

“You really are going to be a headache.”

Before Izanami could respond—

Kei Y’s pupils fragmented into tiny puzzle pieces.

Each puzzle piece became a shard of color, rotating slowly like pieces of a prism. Every sliver held a different Force alignment.

A breath later—

Snow began to fall.

But it wasn’t snow.

Tiny rune strokes drifted down from the air above him, swirling in a slow, hypnotic descent. Every rune stroke glowed with its own distinct color, each one belonging to a different force.

When they touched the ground, each rune stroke landed precisely where its alignment belonged.

A perfect externalization of the runic matrix inside his eyes.

Kei Y exhaled.

“Kaleidoscope Field.”

The falling rune strokes stopped drifting randomly—

They locked into orbit around him, like a map of forces obeying his every thought.

Then—

The Ember-Ash viper stirred.

Its ruined body, still scattered in smoldering chunks across the arena floor, began to glow as reddish-gray ash rose into the air. The falling Ember-Ash rune strokes drifted toward the broken remains like they were being magnetized by fate.

Each rune that touched the fragments sank into them with a soft hiss.

Fwoom—

Fire pulsed.

Ash swirled.

This time, the structure of the Ember-Ash Viper changed.

No longer a creature made of rune strokes—its entire foundation was rewritten.

The Kaleidoscope Field didn’t simply restore it.

It rebuilt it.

Piece by piece.

It became a creature of full runes, every segment of its body a complete inscription—no gaps, no loose strokes, no imperfections. Each rune burned as its own living unit of meaning.

And to push it even further, Kei Y reached into the earliest stage of true runic mastery—

Breath of Runes.

The moment he invoked that stage, the runes around him inhaled and exhaled.

Ash on the ground shifted.

Fire along the edges of the ruined viper pulsed like a heartbeat.

The broken body trembled.

Then—

The runes ignited.

A living mechanism of inscription.

In full view of Izanami—

The viper’s head began to grow back.

Layer by layer.

Like a creature knitting itself together from rune-light and elemental memory. Ash folded into shape, fire sealed the seams, the gold-tinted scales resurfaced line by line, and the falling Ember-Ash runes drifted into their slots with perfect precision, as if called home by an ancient command.

When the final ember settled—

The viper lifted its head again.

But this time—

Its pressure hit like the opening of a furnace door.

Heavier.

Older.

More complete.

A restored perfect form, crafted under:

Kaleidoscope Eyes

Kaleidoscope Field

Breath of Runes

This was not the viper she killed.

This was its true form, reconstructed through complete runic authority—

where every stroke was amplified, every symbol refined, every segment sharpened, and fed with the entire spectrum of forces under Kei Y’s control.

The air thickened.

The viper’s presence pressed against reality itself.

Izanami’s breath caught.

The field around Kei Y deepened into a swirling color storm, each rune stroke rotating in a precise lattice, orbiting him like stars around a core.

He now stood at the center of his own irises.

A domain of runes.

A domain of force.

And the viper beside him radiated a new aura.

Izanami stiffened.

But the arena…

Exploded.

“WHAT?!”

Every major powerhouse surged to their feet.

“That’s the Kaleidoscope Ocular Skill!” someone shouted frantically. “How does a Recruit even have something like that?!”

The Commanders of Realms went rigid.

Breathing heavy.

Greed crawled into the air.

Some of them moved.

A few no longer cared about consequences.

But before anyone approached the barrier—

“Meow.”

A soft, lazy sound.

A sphinx cat padded across the crowd and hopped onto Pharaoh’s throne, curling beside him.

That single quiet meow crushed the arena.

Souls shuddered.

Bodies locked.

Pharaoh didn’t even look up.

He lounged with his chin resting in his hand, petting the cat with idle disinterest.

“Ascendant Realm…?” someone whispered.

Shock rippled through the stands.

Earth hadn’t completed the Third Expanse.

The planet was bottlenecked at the Commander of Realms in the Mortal Realm.

Ascendants weren’t supposed to exist here.

Yet one sat watching.

Casually.

Protectively.

The first person who tried to move—

Began to flake apart.

The entire stadium went silent.

Any remaining greed died instantly.

Pharaoh sighed internally.

Not me you should be worried about…

His gaze drifted back to the battlefield.

I’m here to stop you guys from doing something truly stupid.

Izanami stared at the newly reformed Ember-Ash viper.

It stared right back.

If a creature made entirely of runes could look offended, this one did.

It lowered its head slightly, fire simmering beneath its scales—clearly wanting a rematch.

She sighed.

The sacred jewel in her hand shone, and a wave of soul-pressure blasted toward the viper, collapsing the space between them.

But the one who created it?

Gone, but he had made sure to leave her with a little present that she hadn't detected.

He wasn’t her only opponent, and the lessons he’d learned from her were already being used elsewhere.

While Kei Y had been busy with Izanami, the Frostbane viper had been… less fortunate.

Because it was fighting Wukong.

To no one’s surprise, Wukong toyed with it.

Swinging his staff lazily.

Whacking the viper back and forth like he was beating dust out of a rug.

He wasn’t even using staff techniques—just basic movements, swinging casually as if passing time until the Amunar slave kid ditched the blind priestess and came to fight him.

The Frostbane viper, on the other hand, was not having a good time.

Every hit felt like being struck by a mountain.

The amount of raw force crammed into the Crown Prince’s tiny frame defied logic.

And despite Kei Y focusing on Izanami, he had to divert part of his attention just to repair the viper’s collapsing rune structure again and again.

At some point, Wukong yawned.

He was bored.

He’d already decided this was nothing more than a warm-up before his “real match.”

So when his “real match” finally arrived…

It was not what he expected.

Wukong was now sprinting around the arena in panic, flailing and stumbling as he tried desperately to get rid of the idiot latched onto his back.

An odd-smelling rag was clamped over his mouth.

Behind him, clinging on for dear life, was Kei Y—arms locked around Wukong’s head, rag pressed firmly against his face.

The cloth was soaked in a chloroform mixture Kei had brewed with the help of Silvie’s Nature Force, which had amplified the narcotic far, far beyond what he’d planned.

“Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep—” Kei Y chanted urgently as Wukong staggered.

Plop.

Wukong collapsed face-first into the ground.

Unconscious.

Kei Y slid off his back and exhaled heavily, then jogged over to check on the Frostbane viper—which, by now, had also been reconstructed by the Kaleidoscope Field and Breath of Runes.

The rune-beast flicked its tongue proudly and wagged its tail, glowing faintly in praise of its creator.

Kei Y stared at it.

Then at the battlefield.

Then back at Wukong.

“I knew the myths praised this guy’s strength,” Kei Y muttered, genuinely stunned as he examined the restored Ember-Ash viper beside him. “But the amount of times I’ve had to recreate this thing… it’s like he really can crush mountains.”

He exhaled slowly, taking a brief moment to appreciate his own handiwork, then summoned his bamboo staff. Aether wrapped around it as he activated Aether Control, hardening the wood until it felt like forged steel. With every ounce of strength he could muster, Kei swung downward.

“Dammit, you stupid monkey, I just put you to slee—”

His sentence cut short as the impact rebounded with ridiculous force and launched him straight back into the stormwinds above, disappearing into the churning vortex he himself had created.

Below, Wukong groggily pushed himself up, rubbing the side of his head as if someone had replaced his skull with a drum. He blinked in confusion, trying to remember when—exactly—he had blacked out.

“YOU STUPID MONKEY!” Izanami screeched at him, her voice echoing across the arena as the storm completely obscured Kei Y above.

“What!? And stop calling me a monkey, you blind—” he started, but his voice caught mid-word. His gaze dropped to her hands, widening in alarm the moment he recognized the blade she now casually held.

Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi.

The second Imperial Treasure.

He stiffened instantly, all bravado evaporating. “Why… why do you have that out…?”

Izanami looked ready to tear into him with a lecture, but as she opened her mouth, her attention snapped elsewhere. Her expression sharpened with sudden alarm, and she stared past him.

Wukong frowned and turned.

Behind him, the Frostbane viper suddenly unraveled. Its entire body dissolved into thousands of rune strokes, each one drifting upward. The runes spiraled toward the stormwinds above them.

Wukong blinked. “Huh? Why’s that thing—”

Before he finished, Izanami noticed movement behind herself. The remains of the Ember-Ash viper—destroyed twice now—were also rising from the ground. Charred fragments, molten ash, and half-melted scales broke apart into reddish-gray rune strokes, which floated upward into the same storm.

Before either of them could make sense of what was happening, Wukong’s instincts flared. He sprang backward just as dozens of small, orb-like projectiles rained down from above—each one glowing in a different color, each one humming with different force alignments.

“What now?!” he barked, twisting midair as a crimson sphere streaked past his cheek.

More fell.

Every force alignment Kei Y had access to.

Wukong dodged all of them—barely—his staff spinning as he vaulted across the arena floor. But the moment the projectiles hit the ground, the situation changed entirely.

They bloomed.

Explosions rippled outward in bursts of color as petals erupted from each impact point—Wind petals slicing through the air like razors, Verdant Volt petals snapping with electric arcs, ember-colored petals scattering heat across the stone.

The arena lit up in a storm of cascading blossoms, each one blooming with lethal intent.

“What kind of lunatic throws flowers that can kill you!?” Wukong shouted, swatting away a cluster of slicing wind petals as he flipped over a second explosion behind him.

Izanami shielded her face, stunned by the overwhelming scale of it.

The floor quickly vanished beneath layers of petals. They piled over one another in waves—shimmering Wind slivers, crackling Verdant Volt blossoms, ember-hot Ash petals, frost-edged flakes—all spreading across the arena in a chaotic patchwork of lethal color.

Wukong could avoid them.

For a while.

But no one could dance forever on a field that wanted you dead.

The moment his heel slipped on a cluster of overlapping wind petals, Kei Y struck. A barrage of throwing rods hammered into Wukong’s torso, each impact tearing the air apart as the force sent him skidding violently across the arena.

“No break—?!” Wukong managed to shout before—

A single atlatl projectile pierced cleanly through his side.

His breath stopped. His eyes went wide. For a heartbeat, he simply stared at the shaft jutting out of him, disbelief overtaking pain.

Meanwhile, Izanami was given no room to breathe either.

While Kei Y dealt with Wukong, the Shima Enaga—born of frost, wind, and creation rune strokes—had taken an interest in her. The tiny creature was infinitely more troublesome than the Ember-Ash viper she had faced earlier.

It was fast.

Unreasonably so.

And because it carried Creation Force as part of its core, its attacks struck far harder than its size suggested.

But that wasn’t what alarmed her.

What alarmed her was how it ignored the “Izanami” she had placed beside Wukong.

Her illusion stood there perfectly—visually flawless, soul signature masked, aether flow carefully distorted. Any reasonable detection technique should have treated the illusion as real.

Yet the Shima Enaga didn’t even glance at it.

The moment the creature appeared, it pivoted mid-flight and dove directly toward an empty patch of air—

Where nothing should have been.

Until it collided headfirst with a burst of Izanami’s soul pressure, forcing her real body to reveal itself.

Her eyes widened.

It found me… even through that?

The bird chirped sweetly.

Then attacked her with relentless enthusiasm.

Frosty wind lashed across her face. Creation-forged talons scraped force against her barrier. And when the Shima Enaga finally flitted back into the air, its wings unfurled like blades—

Hundreds of feathers rained down.

Each one sharp.

Each one fast.

Each one carrying a different elemental tint.

And mixed among them—

Her own share of Lethal Bloom.

The petals blossomed as they hit the ground, exploding upward in a storm that forced Izanami into a frantic dodge as the battlefield detonated around her.

Kei Y finally touched back down on the ground. The Shima Enaga fluttered once around his shoulder before settling atop his head like a smug ornament. His breathing came out ragged—harsh, uneven pulls of air.

“You’re really troublesome,” Wukong said, perched casually atop his staff as if nothing had happened. “Exactly what I’d expect from someone brave enough to hit me with a book while we were falling down a pyramid.”

Kei Y glared at him, too winded to respond.

Izanami exhaled sharply as she brushed away the last of the multicolored petals clinging to her sleeves. “He’s much stronger than expected,” she admitted. “And these things…” she flicked a frozen petal aside, “…are truly irritating.”

But her gaze sharpened.

“What I want to know,” she said slowly, “is how you found me.”

Kei Y pointed lazily at her chest.

She blinked—then noticed it.

A faint, pulsing green rune stroke burned there, almost invisible unless one knew to look. It throbbed rhythmically with soft currents of wind, each pulse acting like a beacon.

A tracker.

And the Shima Enaga had followed it like a homing missile.

Izanami’s eye twitched. “You’re annoying.”

Kei Y shrugged. “You hit pretty hard too.”

“I was hoping there would be more to you,” she sighed.

As if in response, the ground beneath their feet shifted.

A large tomoe pattern etched itself across the arena floor, lines of dark energy blooming outward like ink bleeding through parchment. When the final stroke connected, the air thickened—her presence swelling, her soul pressure suddenly far heavier than before.

Wukong whistled. “Well… he was strong enough to beat one of my clones. That counts for something.” He gave Kei Y a nod of genuine respect.

Then he tightened his grip on his staff.

“But if this is your limit,” Wukong said as his aura flared, “then there isn’t much point continuing this fight.”

Kei Y drew in a deep breath.

And on the exhale—

All signs of exhaustion vanished.

His posture straightened, his expression sharpened, and his presence settled into something calm… almost relaxed.

“Heh,” he said lightly, “I was only playing with a few paltry tricks. But it seems the two of you really do deserve your renown.” His eyes glinted as he lifted his brush. “If you want to see more, I have plenty left.”

Wukong grinned immediately. “Of course I do! I’ve been waiting to fight you properly. And since you’re bringing out more of yourself—”

He shifted his weight ever so slightly, preparing something behind his back.

“—I’ll do the same.”

But his preparation was pointless.

Because Kei Y had already moved.

Wind thickened.

In an instant, dozens of dense wind-spheres materialized around Wukong—each one swirling with Zephyr Wind Force. They closed in on him like hunting beasts.

Wukong blinked. “Huh—?”

The orbs detonated outward—and within each one appeared another Wukong.

They were Wukong’s own clones.

Trapped.

Each struggling against the thin, silk-like currents of Zephyr Wind that wrapped around them. The wind wasn’t sharp; it wasn’t violent. It was soft—almost delicate.

But impossible to tear through.

Wukong’s eyes widened as comprehension struck.

“…How did you even notice?”

Kei Y shrugged. “Wind sticks to anything that moves. You shed your hair secretly for that one purpose, and I was already anticipating for you to do so.”

Because ever since the fight began, Kei Y had kept a veil of Breeze Force wrapped so close to Wukong it acted like a second skin—tracking every loose strand, every fragment of his presence. Anything the monkey prince discarded was immediately seized and sealed away.

Izanami stared in disbelief. She had known Wukong’s cloning technique was fast… but not even she had caught the subtle movements of wind around him.

And then the real surprise arrived.

The stormwinds above collapsed.

They didn’t fall violently—they descended like a curtain, surrounding the three of them in a widening ring. The instant the wall of wind touched the ground, the entire formation twisted sharply.

Fwoom—

A massive tornado erupted around them.

It sealed Kei Y, Wukong, and Izanami inside its spiraling walls… while every one of Wukong’s trapped clones was left outside, unable to help.

Wukong looked around, stunned.

“…You trapped us with you?”

Kei Y smiled.

“It’s easier to fight when you stop running around.”

“Was this what you had left in you to bring out?” Izanami asked, impressed but visibly disappointed.

Wukong, on the other hand, looked downright annoyed. His unrefined cloning technique was now useless—every clone he had made was trapped outside the tornado Kei Y created.

“Nope,” Kei Y replied casually. “Just a word of warning: I’ve never used this skill before, so… be careful.”

Both of them froze.

“…Huh?” Wukong tilted his head.

“…What are you planning?” Izanami asked, suspicious.

Then they watched.

And the confusion only deepened.

Kei Y’s body began to change with a smooth, almost fluid transition.

Wukong’s jaw dropped.

“And people call me an animal,” he muttered.

Izanami simply stared.

Because what stood in front of them was still Kei Y…

But no longer entirely human.

[Aspect Manifestation: Creature-Borne Adaptation].

The second function of his Unique Skill—[Bond].

Large Verdant-Volt hare ears formed atop his head, long enough to hang nearly halfway down his body, glowing faintly with crackling green current. His legs reshaped into digitigrade limbs lined with luminous voltage-veins beneath the skin, each pulse tightening with coiled strength.

Despite keeping his human shape overall, his presence shifted sharply.

He now carried the traits of the Verdant-Volt Hare—

its speed,

its charged vitality,

its predatory explosiveness masked beneath a harmless appearance.

Static rolled across the ground beneath his feet.

Izanami’s throat tightened.

Wukong blinked slowly.

Kei Y just grinned.

Then vanished.

The vacuum his disappearance left behind detonated, blasting outward in a ring of Verdant Volt lightning that crackled across the arena floor.

He reappeared directly in front of Izanami.

Her pupils widened—just enough time to register the image of his fist pulling back—

Before she was launched.

Her body shot upward, slamming into the tornado wall. The moment she hit it, hidden Glacial force erupted from within the winds, shredding the air into a storm of ice spikes that hammered her from every direction.

Below, Kei Y turned to Wukong and smiled calmly.

Wukong gulped.

Back in Kei’s clearing within the Expanse, a sleeping Verdant Volt Hare twitched its nose. Its ears flicked, fur bristling as soft blasts of green lightning arced off its body.

Owen—who had been using the creature as a pillow—jerked awake with a yelp.

“What the—?”

His shout drew the others’ attention.

“So this is where you ran off to,” a voice called.

Jenny lazily waved as Jin stepped into the clearing, Hachi trotting beside him.

“What’s that?” Jenny asked, eyeing the large frosted wolf fang Jin held over his shoulder. “Why do you have that?”

“Oh,” Jin said proudly, “first I fought this wolf, then a bigger wolf showed up. It was really strong, but I managed to yank its tooth out.”

Hachi’s eye twitched.

The Fangcub slowly ran its tongue across the spot where one of its fangs had once been yanked by Kei.

“…Okay,” Hachi whimpered, “now I really believe you two are friends.”