If “Evolution” was a phenomenon that any human in this world would experience eventually in their lives, then “Metamorphosis” was an ability exclusive to the Mujin.

Like a true insect, even Evolved, they were still only at the infancy of their power. The Mujin was also the most harmonious with nature among the humans in this world, so it wasn’t strange that their way of growing was to assimilate themselves with nature. Or in an ironic twist, sacrificing their intelligence as humans to let their feral Omushi blood guide them, akin to a beast finally letting go of its shackles called “civilization”.

And it showed with Akabane’s movements. A regular Onigiri was most formidable in a tight space, but his current attacks would put any critter to shame.

Everything in front of Aozaki was just a blurry red. Crimson slashes flew at him in all directions, at a random pattern no less. And if that wasn’t difficult enough, the slashes were so strong, even the air pressure born from them were sharp enough to be called blades of their own—it was as if he was being struck twice at the same time.

Or at least, that was what he would have experienced had the blue man been hit even once.

“Youuuu!” Akabane screeched, noticing the strange scene as well. “What did you dooooo?”

If there were any witnesses in the scene, they wouldn’t have believed it either. But despite the entire room being covered in slashes of different sizes, Aozaki alone stood still, without so much as a speck of dust on his now confirmed spiritual armor.

“You know, Red, there’s a saying in my homeland that goes like this: ‘In front of absolute power, any techniques or strategies are pointless’. However, there is no such thing as ‘absolute power’ in this world. And thus, the natural conclusion would be ‘there always exists a technique or strategy that can beat someone’.”

“You… You’ll pay for ittttt!”

“Flowing Water, Gentle Fist.”

As Akabane rushed at his opponent with bloodlust that could burn down a forest, Aozaki only responded with one hand forward, one palm open, and knees bent—a natural guarding stance, cold as ice. Before the former’s scythes could reach him, the latter had made his crisp move. Lowering his center of gravity just enough to put his arm under Akabane’s, Aozaki pushed his palm upward, hitting the underarm of the scythe and pushed his opponent out of his way.

Flowing Water, Gentle Fist. A technique that, like its namesake, utilized the flexibility of the body to counter the opponent with as little force as possible, like the trickling of a river that could break even the toughest stones. Since it was a technique that relied on the opponent’s force more than the user’s, the sudden bodily imbalance would often cause the opponent to lose their momentum and fall, or worse, get blown away on their own.

And this was the same with Akabane. It was a simple strike, but like their previous exchange of moves, he was blown away, this time up the ceiling. Following suit was naturally the landing, causing the man to suffer double the damage he initially planned to inflict at his opposition.

“Ack!” The red man could only cough a splash of blood at the sudden counter.

His opponent, meanwhile, was still as easy-going as ever, even enough to throw a taunting smirk as follow-up. “Well, what do you think of my technique? Not bad, right?”

“I’ll kill youuuu!”

Akabane sprung right back into the action, this time using an upward pierce with the tip of his scythe arms, exchanging area of effect for a lethal hit if it aimed at a vital part.

“Not enough creativity. Zero points.”

Once again, Aozaki dodged with no issue. A cornered foe normally would made desperate attempts—high in intensity, but low in actual threat, simply because of the fact that their killing intent had clouded their battle judgment. Hence, their attacks would grow telegraphed, making them easy for a seasoned fighter to detect. In other words, it stood no chance against Aozaki’s distinctive counter style.

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With just a slight tilt of his head, the blue man had evaded the stab that would mean his demise. His right arm, still with its palm open, delivered a light hit in the middle of Akabane’s scythe arm, derailing it from its original attacking path once more. But that wasn’t everything that Aozaki could do.

“Coursing River, Surging Fist.”

While his right hand flicked away the opponent’s attack, it also served a purpose to force Akabane’s vulnerable torso into Aozaki’s sight. All for the latter to reveal his new card—for the first time in the fight, he was the one active in his strikes.

The Gentle Fist, like its namesake would suggest, was a counter technique. It wasn’t meant to hurt others, merely turning the opponent’s force upon themselves. However, in certain cases, the user had to be on the offense, and this new technique was the birth of such needs.

While Aozaki’s left palm remained open, his fingers didn’t straighten like they did with the Gentle Fist. Instead, they were half-curled, like a combination between a fist and a palm strike. That was the essence of the Surging Fist—a technique that both borrowed an opponent’s force from the Gentle Fist, but also added the user’s own strength into a hybrid form of offense and defense.

As for Akabane… After taking the direct hit, the man was squashed in the most literal sense. His exoskeleton cracked from the massive pressure of the strike, while his scythe limbs were chipped with the same kind of damage, losing their natural sharpness. If it hadn’t been the adrenaline keeping him going, Akabane would have lost consciousness a long time ago.

Yet, he still stood. Perhaps it was his feral blood giving him the rush to keep moving, or it was because of his human pride that wouldn’t let him lose against his former subordinate, but the red man moved nonetheless. The result, however, couldn’t be clearer.

All of Akabane’s slashes only hit the ground, as Aozaki was still full of energy, and thus, was able to dodge every single one of the former’s last-ditch efforts.

“Stop it, Red. It’s getting ridiculous,” Aozaki said, devoid of emotions. He might have wanted to fight Akabane to help his allies, but looking at his opponent in this state, the man had already lost his satisfaction. The only thing that annoyed him was his opponent’s relentless attacks, disregarding his own conditions.

“Kill… Kill…” Akabane’s eyes had lost their sanity, even turning white instead of their usual black—the kind of black that Yakushi mistook for a helmet’s front. His slashes were turning harmless as well, barely able to hit Aozaki anymore, and even if they did, they would cause nothing more than a light scratch.

“… I guess this is why you’re our leader,” sighed Aozaki. At least, he could respect his opponent’s will to never give up. It was the quality that drew him to the Mujin in the first place, and now, he couldn’t help but smile a little. In the end, he was still right to have picked this village as his new home.

“I’ll get you to sleep a long, good dream, leader. It’s the least I can do.

“Coursing River, Surging Fist.”

“Finally got you, idiot.”

Akabane’s eyes immediately returned to normal, and the man moved away from the strike like the wind, as if the entire ordeal never happened in the first place. With his naturally higher speed, it took him no effort to dodge the incoming strike, causing Aozaki’s palm to hit the ground instead.

But that wasn’t all. The foothold that the latter stood crumbled due to the hit, and soon enough, Aozaki found himself freefalling in the sky.

“When did you…?”

“From the start, stupid!” Laughed Akabane as he rushed down the tree trunk to chase after his defenseless prey. “You said it yourself, right? There exists a strategy to beat anyone! I knew that you had no knowledge about this form, so I just faked losing my mind so that you’d lower your guard! Even me moving forward in desperation was part of my plan—to lure you into standing at the hole to the outside, where the trunk was the weakest and most vulnerable to outside force. My slashes were all for lightly slicing it open, to the point where it only needs one hit, your hit, to crumble! Checkmate, Blue!”

It was the perfect strategy, fitting for a cunning leader. Akabane knew from the first exchange that he was no match for Aozaki in a fair fight, and so, he used the gap in strength to his advantage. And the result was, as he said, “checkmate”.

Aozaki closed his eyes. However, he, like his opponent, didn’t have “quitting” in his mind ever.

There were three stages to Aozaki’s arsenal. The Gentle Fist, a technique only for countering the opponent. The Surging Fist, a technique that utilized both the opposition and his own strength. And the final stage…

A technique that only relied on his own strength. One that carried the most destructive force, where his spirit would burn the brightest blue.

Aozaki, for the first time in their match, clenched his fists.

“Vast Ocean, Fist.”