Shun POV:

Dark purple swirls blended with white shadows. The cloak that once concealed everything now showed two arms: toned and compressed to their current limit.

Deep indigo eyes glowed. They shone beneath the hood, leaving a faint trail of light behind their movements.

軈.

That was the word Renral had received. His fingers crushed the fist aimed toward Loqua’s face, and then...

He flickered.

“Imminent Reaver Style: Imminence Incision.”

In the fraction of a second Renral wasn’t visible, his blade fell. Six afterimages converged; they overlapped and strengthened the technique.

“Yo—“

The female Sentri Guardian looked down at its neck. A small cut signalled the beginning. A laceration announced the end.

Imminence came.

It embedded the Sentri Guardian into the side of the crater. It buried any hope of the monster rejoining the battle, and it marked the grave the Sentri Guardian would lay in.

“!?!?!”

A single step forward drew the Sentri Guardians’ attention. White streaks etched themselves into long, flowing hair. Brown belts turned red. Scarlet lined the white shadows, conforming to the slender frame underneath. Fingerless gauntlets swayed in tandem with the heels that struck the bedrock. Hooped golden earrings added to the regality—to the femininity exuded.

潔.

That was the word Vealhar received. Two thin fingers tapped against a male Sentri Guardian’s extended knee, freezing it in place.

“Pure Goblin Warlock Style: Rin Reverence.”

‘!’

Her other hand formed the Mutrashay Mudra before white shadows recreated the same strike received.

They doubled.

They tripled.

They didn’t stop until Vealhar’s long eyelashes fell. The fragmented bedrock rose in recognition of her presence, yet a single fist announced itself to the possibilities of the future.

Rin represented Power.

The entire crater split apart. Shockwaves impacted the depression. The Sentri Guardian’s chest caved inward from the accumulated application of Rin that brought the monster to its knees.

Its head hit the ground.

The Sentri Guardian bowed.

“Sentri Style: Ultimate Sentri Blur.”

Vealhar weaved through the barrage of strikes. Renral knocked the monster back, and Loqua demonstrated an even greater power that forced the Sentri Guardians to take notice.

The sword responded to her seriousness, peeling itself away to reveal the Ultimate Fishnin Katana. The blade recognised the change in its owner, so it did the same.

Memories of the past behind the enclosed space of the fish tank. The trouble that came with escaping its confinement, and the desire to go beyond in order to protect.

The curved edge trembled.

Vibrations emanated from Loqua’s feet, transmitting her intentions. Red shook into blue. Its colour ran over the new inscriptions that lined the blade.

“This is the blade of a Supreme Fishnin.”

Blurs came, but a flicker disregarded them. Blitzes of light crashed against the source of the earth rising. Spears shot toward the cause of gravity being denied. However, a single slash from Loqua fissured the bedrock and severed an arm.

‘Very good.’

I lowered my centre of gravity before launching myself into the air. The dozens of Sentri Guardians came, but they wouldn’t get close this time.

“Supreme Fishnin Style: Vivid...”

“Imminent..”

“Enclosure!”

The combination technique sealed the crater in a vivid darkness. Empowered or not, they would fall to those I had trained.

Stolen story; please report.

Once my feet hit the ground, I turned my attention to her: Dibla.

She sat on a chair made of fire. Flames formed detailed scales that wrapped around the armrests, extending down to create the number ‘6.’ Thicker scales connected a vertical line of skulls together down the backrest; their size increased till the largest skull hung over Dibla. A red glow poured through the empty sockets but failed to match the blood in her gaze.

Dibla’s leg rested over her knee, unsurprised by Death standing in front of her once more.

[Dibla has started the process of transforming into a Sentri Gladiator. Transformation Rate: 65%.]

“Death has arrived faster than I expected. How should I greet him? He’s not a Sentri, so I can’t give him a big kiss.”

Her head fell forward to hide the giggle that penetrated the air. The faint yellow streaks in her hair faded; they were consumed until less than half remained.

I placed my hand on the white barrier in an attempt to take the Ki Artifact. Since Dibla was never meant to be in this ‘Hidden Room,’ I surmised the dungeon would balance the situation.

[The ‘Hidden Room’ has not been cleared.]

[You are unable to retrieve the Ki Artifact.]

Dibla’s giggle grew louder.

[The flames of Hanzo disregard the barrier and recognise a previous wielder!]

[The barrier has been dispersed.]

[You have acquired ‘Hanzo’s Blade V8.’]

Not all Ki Artifacts could be used right away, but weapons often didn’t fall into that category. It also didn’t matter if I failed to take the Ki Artifact.

Why?

Because I had Titles. Every time I entered dungeons, I suppressed myself. However, for Dibla, this would be the second time I truly... went all out.

“Get up.”

I shifted into a stance with the two blades facing the monster. It rose from its seat and grabbed hold of a red spear. The monster’s tongue ran over round lips before lowering its stance.

“I love what you bring out of me.”

Faint tremors added to the taut tension pressing down on the air. Dibla’s waraji merged into caligae: their straps wrapped around her shin. Red scales overlapped like manica: the armguard of Roman Gladiators and merged with the same coloured Tekkō.

“You’re a disgrace.”

Two blades crashed into a spear, but the force behind them blasted Dibla across the hidden room. Vestiges of light were all that remained from the blurring shadows. One left a trail of blood, while the other left a trail of darkness.

A tiger head penetrated the space in front. Its white colour ignited with the flames of Hanzo that dealt piercing damage to Dibla’s Ki Armour. Blood Blurs flew toward the darkness, but the straight blade contained their power.

Rin discharged the force back toward the savage. Arrows slowed it down. A spear parried it, and a dagger sliced the head of Death. Drops of blood came from both sides, but this battle had no breaks.

This wasn’t about growing.

This wasn’t about improving.

So when the blades fell, they contained no mercy. Title effects bolstered a strength Dibla hadn’t witnessed before. Every second was an exchange, every minute was a deciding strike.

The consecutive slashes of a Legend grade Ki Artifact now tripled the power of chain combinations. Precision and accuracy boosted to a higher level. The Fire Ki Nature...

Tripled all damage dealt.

[Dibla has started the process of transforming into a Sentri Gladiator. Transformation Rate: 80%.]

“I love it! I love it! I LOVE IT!!”

“SHUT UP!”

Blood splashed everywhere from the blurring of my hands. I cut Dibla down with intentional strikes that would deal the most agonising pain possible. I pinned her body to the wall in an attempt to sever her arm, but a longsword forced me to raise my guard.

“Are you proud of me? Look how far I’ve come! Look at how I’ve taken our species to a higher plane of existence! Don’t ignore me!! Tell me I did well!!! Tell me... TELL ME THAT YOU’RE PROUD!!”

I weaved through a flurry of thrusts. Blood spilt out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

“Your parents knew you’d become a monster.”

“Shut up.”

Techniques tried to widen the distance, but I closed it instead. She didn’t deserve to run from the disrespect and disregard she had shown her elders.

“Your real name was Diabla.”

“SHUT UP!!”

An explosion of Ki did nothing. It wouldn’t deter the speed of my onslaught, nor would it cover the truth she had tried so hard to discard.

“But even they saw hope in you. That was why they called you Dibla: The one who controls the demon.”

The truth suspended the movements she tried to make.

“Stop it...”

The daggers clattered against the ground. Hands gripped the sides of her head that shook side to side. Dibla clawed away at her skin; blood poured out from self-inflicted wounds, yet her gaze locked onto Death.

“STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!”

I peered down at the collapse of her mind before ripping off the armour on her arms. I tore apart her body till Dibla dropped into a pool of her own blood.

The Mwalimu had the ability to utilise Sentravision. It was possible that through it, they could see the potential of other Sentri, and that was how Sentri Kings or Sentri Queens were chosen.

The Sentri showed influences from multiple cultures, but their sense of names had no basis I could draw from. I concluded that names were linked to what the Mwalimu saw, and this gave them a deeper meaning.

This was now confirmed by Dibla’s reaction.

Blood splashed all over my face from the falling blades. Dibla’s head bounced off the ground, offering no resistance to Death. Her HP reached its remanents when I gripped the tsuka with both hands.

‘You have no respect.’

The tip of the straight blade hovered over her bare neck.

‘You have no integrity.’

Blood swirled around what used to be bright yellow irises. It welcomed a new grey hue into its mixture. Dibla’s lips spread into the warm smile she offered me on our first meeting.

But I didn’t care.

The tip shot toward the ear—

“My liege!!”

I stopped midway at the sound of that voice: Vealhar’s voice. Worry made her eyes water. Concern made her hand stretch out to save what she thought needed saving. Loqua bit her lip, and the indigo beneath Renral’s hood dimmed.

[Dibla has started the process of transforming into a Sentri Gladiator. Transformation Rate: 99%.]

I closed my eyes before tilting my head away.

“Please... kill me...”

Tears mixed with the blood strewn across her face. It was a stream: a stream that accepted the path she had chosen to take was wrong.

“Death... is right.”

“Tch.”

I got to my feet, ignoring the severity of the damage I took. Vealhar rushed to give me a massage when Renral’s back stood in front. He blocked the gap between us, aware that the 9 Cuts Kō had reached its time limit.

“All of you, stay safe.”

Shadows, water, and a faint white light took them back to the lower Floor. I stabbed Hanzo’s Blade V8 beside Dibla’s head before parting my lips.

“A Sentri Warrior named Zinyul on the 5th Floor.”

“...Can you please... hold my hand?... I hate... being alone...”

“...”

I sat down but refused to touch her. Dibla’s eyebrows curved upward. Her mouth opened, and heart-wrenching wails tore the space apart.

But this time, she wasn’t alone.