???: [Ah! Vari, sweetie! Come back! It’s time for your bath!]
While the astute man focused on the paperwork in front of him, the sounds of two others within the castle could be heard, running down the halls. Turning around to view the door, the man witnessed a woman that he loved with long red hair and a towel over her body. She looked to the man and waved her arms in the air, begging for his help with the situation.
Yoro: [Nene! I need some help! Varius is trying to avoid having her bath and I don’t know what to do!]
Standing up from his chair, the man smiled and moved over to her side.
Nero: [What have you tried so far?]
Yoro: [Well first, I put some bubbles in the bath to excite her. I thought a few toys would also do the trick, but she didn’t care about any of that and ran away from me. I even tried to tell her about all the fun things we could do, like making up stories with the toys, but she kept running!]
Placing his thumb under his chin, the man looked to the same staircase as his wife.
Nero: [Hm. I think those are good options for when she gets inside the bath. She’ll likely be a lot more calm if her mother plays along with her. However, I’m not sure that it will be enough to convince her to enter the bath.]
Yoro: [Do you have any ideas on what I could do?]
Raising a finger back to his worried lover, the man continued to show a smile of compassion.
Nero: [I have a trick that worked for both my mother and the adoptive mother who took care of my sister and I when we were young. One that always managed to get Mena to take a bath. You’ll have to agree with the idea, though. She is our daughter, after all.]
Nodding back with a powerful energy behind her eyes, Yoro smiled back.
Yoro: [Yes! Whatever the idea is, I’ll say yes! Do it, Nene!]
Nero moved his eyes back to the staircase again, taking a deep breath as he increased the volume of his voice without shouting.
Nero: [Varius. If you come take a bath with your mother, we’ll give you a third snack time tomorrow.]
Without a moment of delay, a small pair of footsteps ran up the stairs, hiding behind a pedestal but peeking to the side to view the adults in front of their small self.
Varius: [... Really?]
Nero: [Indeed. Including your one between lunch and dinner and before bed, we’ll give you one more just for tomorrow between breakfast and lunch.]
Varius: [... You promise?]
Placing a hand over his heart and raising the other in the air, Nero closed his eyes.
Nero: [I promise.]
Rushing over, Varius quickly grabbed onto her mother’s hands, jumping up and down repeatedly.
Varius: [Bath! Bath! Bath! Bath! Bath!]
Picking up her daughter, Yoro gently kissed her on the head and smiled.
Yoro: [Ok! Ok! We’ll go take a bath now! With or without your toys?]
Varius: [With! With! With!]
Yoro: [Alright! Then away we go! Thank you for the help, Nene!]
Nero: [It’s no problem at all. Enjoy your time, my dear.]
As the two separated, Nero returned to his desk, noticing an odd slip of paper he had not seen before. Picking it up, he raised an eyebrow at the confusing question it had asked.
What are you doing?
Nero: [Odd. I don’t recall this being here befo–]
The world around him faded to black.
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No words were exchanged between them. The goddess of white and god of black stood silently, face to face with each other. Cold glares beaming between them, a terrifying heat of power from their swords, the two refused to divert their attention to anything else. No one else mattered. Nothing else would mean more to them than this duel. The battle to decide the fate of the entire world. The hope for a peaceful tomorrow or the terrible conquest for the birth of a new world. Gripping at the hilts of their blades, the two took one step forward, allowing their shoes to gain a full taste of the ground as they sunk into the earth. Sliding himself down from the rock after taking his step, the man clad in black landed onto the same level of ground as the goddess. The spurs on his boots rattled as he touched down. Repeating his action from before, he took one step forward slowly, absorbing the feel. A massive bolt of lightning struck the mountains outside, directly in the middle from where they stood.
Using the bolt as their signal gun, the two floated through the air towards each other. The woman’s jagged, green blade was kept at the side while the man’s long, greatsword was kept above his head. Not only were their bodies drawn closer as they slowly flew, but their swords slowly crossed over to clash. As they made contact, a heavy explosion of matōki aura, both white and blue in color, erupted beneath them and radiated the sky. Sparks of lightning hit between the clashing auras as they competed for space.
Across the battlefield, everyone had started to cover their faces, avoiding the intense gale that overtook the area. No matter how strong nor how experienced, each and every warrior was forced to protect themselves from the fierce wind. Their eyes winced as they tried to look towards the light, but struggled from its unrelenting shine.
Once the lights faded, the mountains around the same area were destroyed, leaving only rubble behind in the air. In that same battlefield, the two warriors flew across the rocky land and struck at each other’s sounds, repeatedly ringing a steel screech through the air as they met and distanced themselves, only to strike again soon after. They did not discard their blades, they did not use anything other than them. Only their swords could take in the thrill of this bittersweet duel.
Slamming down onto Tempest, Nero put every ounce of his strength behind his strikes, leaving no room for error. However, perhaps she had improved since they last met, or perhaps she had grown used to fighting him from that previous encounter, but Shiro had adapted and dealt with the strength he pushed into his greatsword.
Tempest was swung at Nero’s blade with pure elegance, leaving heavy strikes along his sword that pushed against his guard and forced him to jump back. Once he did so, Shiro gave chase and continued her onslaught, yet she never chose to rush him down. In Nero’s eyes, she had grown far more intelligent in battle than before, as a rush against his guard would be a foolish mistake that would only lead her to a pitiful defeat.
It was not only her intelligence that seemed better. Shiro Fuloreen had looked far more focused than before. She was completely calm, leaving her mind to her blade, telling by the strikes Nero had felt. Swinging down at Tempest again with a brutal underhand swing, Martire was caught in between the edges, allowing Shiro to redirect the sword around in a circle and throw it to the side. Nero grew used to this move of hers, as it was a familiar one from their previous battle, and swung his sword back from the side towards her. Ducking under the strike, Shiro caught the blade again from the back and forced it down into the earth, swinging back up at Nero who jumped back to avoid damage.
Dusting off his clothes, the oni jumped forward again and struck the jagged blade with a fearsome attack upon his reentry. Shiro was sent through the air, calmly readjusting herself before landing and guarding against the next dash attack Nero pushed through with. The two stood their ground, trying to push one another with their blades, yet neither budged from their position.
Ending the clash, the two moved back and simultaneously swung at each other, sending themselves jumping back only to meet again in the middle with their continued trade of attacks.
Grabbing his sword with both hands, Nero held it high and struck down at Shiro, who guarded with Tempest by holding the hilt in a similar two handed fashion. Holding the blade at a distance to avoid poking into her eyes, Tempest was thrusted towards the clashing sword, sending Nero back into the air.
As he ascended upwards, Shiro followed him into the air, causing the two to now take their battle to the skies. Back and forth, the two flew in every direction as they hit each other.
Increasing her speed, Shiro danced around Nero, making it nearly impossible to see her. Tempest flew down, leading the oni to believe she had reappeared briefly, but he soon realized that this was a ploy to trick him. Fixing his attention back onto where Shiro’s true location was, Nero prepared himself to sense her at a greater level, honing in on the speeding succubus. Noticing that he had done so, Tempest was held by Shiro again who struck Nero down towards the ground, the attack being guarded by the powerful Martire.
Nero turned his blade to the left from below and cut directly towards the sky. Flying above the attack, the clouds from where Shiro had been were split in half with a vicious sting of a sound ripping through the air. Zooming towards Nero, so much so that her hair was pushed back leaving her forehead visible, Shiro came close to attacking the oni again, who slashed at her visage as it appeared.
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Her speed however allowed for this to merely be an afterimage, with the real Shiro reappearing behind him. Throwing his arm over his shoulder, Nero guarded the incoming attack and quickly turned, clashing with the woman again. Countless mountains around them were sliced in half, or worse. The ground that they had stood on was carved into by the powerful swords they held. Though they dealt a great deal of damage to the nature around them, not a single bit of themselves were hurt, leaving a perfect image of their forms as they beautifully danced with their blades.
Spinning Tempest around, Shiro changed her grip to a reverse variant and zoomed past Nero endlessly. Though he would block her attacks, he could not keep up well enough to strike her down as she did so. Out of all the people Nero Virtuoso had known, Shiro Fuloreen was certainly the fastest. Thus, this was an obvious achievement to expect from someone with the title.
Using the tip of his blade, Nero carved a circle around him in the ground whilst guarding Shiro’s attacks. Once the circle was formed, he awaited her next move patiently. Coming into view again from behind him, Nero swiftly struck at Tempest and rushed down Shiro while she kept her reverse grip. Though she did not rush around him like before, she did not give up her fight while holding Tempest this way, instead opting for attacks that pushed through Martire as she turned around again to push the mighty greatsword.
Slamming back into Martire after several consecutive hits, Tempest spun through the air as it was gripped back into Shiro’s regular stance. Hitting the greatsword with a heavy overhead strike, she sent Nero several feet back, gliding the heels of his boots along the ground with the spurs rattling in turn.
It was an odd sight to see, but the Virtuoso had started to gain a small grin at the side of his lips. The lower fangs of his oni teeth could be seen past the small opening between his mouth.
For the many years Nero Virtuoso had lived, he despised the idea of fighting.
Slamming back into the ground with his foot, he charged Tempest again and struck the blade much like it had done before, sending Shiro herself back along the ground.
There was a deep hatred for such an awful crime. The idea of hurting others for one’s benefit, to gain from the glory of battle or the death of others was truly sickening. If it was to protect others, he viewed such a choice as a necessary one. But should it merely be for entertainment, should it be a decision that was derived from a sense of pleasure, whether sadistic or greed for something greater, he hated every bit of the idea.
Shiro charged back at him, causing another clash between their blades, with Martire being higher in position and Tempest remaining lower. This was not due to a difference of strength or anything of the sort, but merely a personal preference from where the two enjoyed striking at with their own swords.
The red-headed lord of the sands, Yoro Kobi, was willing to sacrifice her old ways to be with Nero. While Nero had enjoyed her company already and was more than willing to keep her by his side, he found her dedication to sharing similar views an odd but rare beauty, that only made her beautiful smile look all the more bright. It was due to her that he valued his morals and kept true to them at all times. Like he had believed, there would certainly be exceptions for when fighting was necessary, such as when he had saved Yoro from those trying to attack her. However, even he, a man who had faith in his own rules, was not free from his own sins. His adoptive mother, Inkra, was killed a decade ago, leaving the boy with a rage he could not contain, killing those responsible. For every night since then, his dreams were turned to pitch black nightmares, haunted by those that he had killed along with the deceased members of his family.
Stepping back, Shiro spun around in less than a second and hit Martire with a tremendous deal of force. Nero flipped through the air as he was shot back, but stomped firmly into the ground to halt his movement. On his face, the smile came into full view.
Ever since Yoro had died and Nero set his sights on the bloodthirsty plot for revenge he had crafted, the nightmares had ended. For he no longer had anything to fear, he was now the one to be feared. The demons of the past were nothing more than pitiful ghosts that could not find their way to hell. The deceased family members no longer showed their faces, leading Nero to believe that they had moved on after Nero chose his path of absolution.
But it was only now, as he made his way towards the stern Shiro, that Nero had truly relished in the beauty of battle. To fight someone like this, at a time such as this, when the world around him felt as though it was an enigma, he was overjoyed by such a celebration of life. The climax for this world and the beginning of the next. What a truly captivating thought it was to Nero Virtuoso’s mind.
Raising his empty hand, a plume of darkness started to form, filling the space around both Nero and Shiro.
Nero: [Magnificent, Shiro! As thanks for this beautiful final act that you’ve given me, I shall bid you farewell by showing you a gift I have shown to no other!]
Looking towards Shiro, the oni’s eyes were patterned with several other eyes much like his own, taking up the empty spaces of not only his white pupils and dark gray iris, but also the white sclera around them. Within the cube of darkness, several other eyes appeared along the walls, ceiling and floor, each matching Nero’s own.
Nero: [All Eyes. This is the ability I have crafted for my divine perfection. The most powerful god ability to exist. One I had created long before the death of my beloved, which I had believed would only be needed in a dire situation with little to no options left. However, you shall gaze upon it now, as every last one of your attacks becomes useless before my eyes. No matter what you may try, I shall see through it.]
Activating clairvoyance, Nero saw it. Shiro would charge forward, calling his bluff and attempting to strike him again with Tempest. In retaliation, Nero would swing perfectly across her chest, slicing a brutal wound across her body and spraying a fountain of blood from her body. Gripping at his blade, he held it to the side, ready to attack.
Just as he predicted, Shiro charged forward, readying Tempest to attack.
In one devastating swing, Martire’s slash was sent forward.
… With it, a brutal wound across Shiro’s chest was created, as he had expected. The goddess of white’s eyes became far more lifeless, widened as she received the devastating pain onto her body.
Closing his eyes, Nero took a deep breath.
Nero: [It’s over. I’m sorry, old friend. I hope that you’ll forgive me in the next world. For now, let your soul rest easy.]
Falling back towards the ground, the corpse was about to touch the dark ground filled with eyes…
… Only to flip back up, charging Nero again. Opening his shocked eyes, Nero struggled to block the incoming attack as he struggled to also comprehend what had just happened.
Nero: [What?!]
Clashing his blade with Tempest, Nero looked down on the succubus from before. Her eyes had suddenly regained their spark of life, creating the same terrifying crimson gaze he had seen many times before. The wound he had created was still across her chest, leaving a spray of blood to color his clothing as she continued to fight.
In Nero’s mind, he could only draw this scene to one conclusion. It was an odd idea, especially given the excruciating pain and terrible damage he had casted onto her body, but perhaps her will was strong enough.
Even if she were on death’s door, there was a chance that Shiro’s resolve continued to push through. Regardless of being hit by such a brutal attack, Shiro Fuloreen continued to fight until her heart would stop beating. That was the logical conclusion Nero had come to. Should she fall before she could finish him, it would mean he had won. However, if she could remain alive just long enough to take him down with her, it would be her victory.
Though he was pained by the thought of taking her life again, Nero shot Tempest towards the sky with a heavy slash and held Martire high.
Nero: [I have no need for ghosts! Farewell, Shiro!]
Slashing on the opposite side of the chest, a much greater wound that the one before was gashed into Shiro’s body. The spray of blood increased to a greater degree, splashing onto his face and drenching it red.
Nero: [Even with a mighty resolve, you won’t escape with your life from an attack like that. For a second time, I shall bid you farewell, my friend.]
Falling to the floor…
… The corpse slammed its feet back down, calling Tempest back into its hands and attacking Nero again.
Bewildered. He was utterly bewildered. Nothing had made sense to him after what he had just seen. Not once but twice did Shiro Fuloreen die, yet here she stood, putting her sprinkling blood on display for all to see whilst she continued to battle Nero. Unable to even comprehend what had happened, the left side of Nero’s chest was struck at by Tempest, leaving a sizzling pain behind. Clutching the wound, Nero looked at the corpse and dug the heel of his boot into the wound, causing a disgusting sound of organs being crushed to sound out as he launched her back.
Again, she flew through the air, only to flip and land again.
Nero: [Why…]
His eyes twitched at the sight of the undead Shiro Fuloreen.
Nero: [WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!]
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Ryuka: [What’s happening out there?!]
Using their matōki, the group of Shiro’s crew and friends were able to watch the fight from afar using the aura of presence alone. While they watched, each of them had a look of pure shock on their faces.
Tari: [I… I don’t get it…]
Hidari: [Is there something we’re not able to see?!]
Bachi: [Of course there is, dumbass! What do n’ya think is the problem right now?!]
Poi: [Bachi. Pleasssse calm down. We’re all ssssstruggling to figure thissss out.]
Kiyomi: [I’m not trying to support Bachi’s attitude, but I can get why she’s so nervous… I’m not sure what to say myself…]
Migi: [Out of everything I’ve seen in my life… nothing could compare to this…]
Turning to look at Kōkatsu, the nervous succubus with a purple braided ponytail asked the one who would likely have an explanation.
Sena: [Miss Kōkatsu… Do you know what might be happening right now?]
Kōkatsu’s eyes quivered as she watched the same sight they had all seen.
Kōkatsu: [... Xander.]
Xander: [Yeah?]
Answering back, the only one to not show any fright was the husband of the white succubus, Xander Bloodfire.
Kōkatsu: [I might not know much, considering she told me some vague info, but surely she told a whole lot more to you… What the hell just happened?]
Crossing his arms, Xander looked back up at Kōkatsu before turning back to the sight.
Xander: [You’ve known her for quite some time, Kōkatsu. Which means you know about what she’s had ever since she was young.]
Kōkatsu: [What she’s… Wait, are you saying…]
Xander: [It’s not the same type of trick you might think it is. If anything, think of it as an extreme version of that. One that could easily destroy any concepts of the world or matōki that you could think of.]
Smiling, he closed his eyes.
Xander: [That’s the easiest way to explain it, or so she told me.]
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She was dead. Surely, Shiro Fuloreen was dead.
Nero had stabbed her, slashed her body, kicked into her organs, slashed her chest with his nails, pierced her with a Black Rose style spear strike, rushed her with a flurry of fists, blasted her, stabbed her with spikes of darkness, and shot ice crystals through her.
With every single move Nero Virtuoso made, the woman fell back, spraying more and more blood from her body, only to then jump back into place to fight him once more.
This was not the Shiro he had known. Though he had never truly seen her limits, Nero knew there were limits to how far Shiro could go. There were limits for every living being in the world, but he had seen Shiro’s with his own eyes. He had seen her cry, boil with rage, breakdown in a state of pure fear. He had seen many sides to this succubus, but none were this. A goddess, forever immortal, perhaps at the same level as him. But that did not explain how she acted.
Her moves were not dull, they remained calculated and endowed with power. She did not slow down, keeping the same speed as always while fighting the bewildered Nero. Ever since their fight started, her eyes had a cold look in them, while her lips said nothing. Though her eyes may have widened into a bloodshot state, she still did not speak a word to him.
What Nero had also started to notice was an odd scene that filled the dark cube the two were trapped in. Several lines of smoke circled around the cube, forming a change he could not understand. There was nothing that heated the room that either he or Shiro had done. Her blood nor her peculiar resolve that forced her to survive could not magically create this smoke either. It was as if the smoke appeared on its own, taunting Nero’s lack of an understanding.
Slashing her again, Nero watched the same phenomenon as always playing out before him.
Nero: [What’s wrong with you…]
Shiro charged at him, holding Tempest high. In response, Nero did the same with Martire.
Nero: [WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!]
???: [Just how long are you going to act like this, Nero?]
In both of Nero’s ears, multiple voices of the same woman could be heard. He recognised the voice well, for it was one he could never forget. Though she had not spoken for a few moments now, he knew it was her. Turning around, Nero gazed upon another sight he could not explain. Around him, several Shiros filled the room. Countless copies of herself that filled the dark cube, from both in front of and to each side of him. There were at least tens, no, hundreds of Shiros that took form. But it did not end there, as Nero turned back to face the injured Shiro from before, seeing that she was now gone, replaced by more Shiros. Not a single one of them was injured. Yet on Nero’s own body, the slash against the left side of his chest still remained. Shiro’s blood was gone, leaving only his own.
Nero: [What… What is this…]
The Shiros replied back to him in unison.
Shiros: [Do you not understand? When we started our battle, after our first clash, our matōki disappeared, did it not?]
Nero: [Disappeared… Wait, then this is–]
Shiros: [In order to take you down, I needed an ability far greater than anything else in the world. You said your god ability was one that could let you see any move I make, correct? Well, if the move I make is not one that truly exists, leaving a split between what is real and what is fake, what exactly will happen to those all seeing eyes of yours? The answer is simple. Nothing. You will never be able to predict my movements. You will never be able to touch me. You will never be able to stop my onslaught. You’ll be left in a state of helplessness before it. While what you strike remains as illusions, my own illusions can touch the same way anyone else can, meaning their strikes shall remain a reality. No one can see either of us anymore, since the two of us no longer exist in the world for the time being. Surely you understand that by now, given what I mentioned regarding the start of our duel.]
Together, every Shiro looked down upon the oni.
Shiros: [My World. That’s the name of my god ability. A god ability that’s terrible in nature for your own.]
Their heads tilted down, forming the return of their ghastly cold stare.
Shiros: [You can’t win anymore, Nero.]
From the simple yet dangerous for her own health, Illusion World, Shiro crafted an ability far greater than any other.
My World. A hellish domain that left its victim under Shiro’s hypnotic-like spell.
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