Haruto Watanabe felt the salt wind sting his cheeks as he blinked in confusion at the endless downs rolling toward the sea. One moment, he’d stood in Lord Jūsō’s soaring presence chamber, where King Goritsu XI’s Ambassador had been shown in. The next, he was out here in the open air, the sun glaring down on him. He shuddered at the sudden change in scenery and muttered, “This is ridiculous. How’d I drift off mid-audience? Where’s the Oni castle? Where’s everyone else?”

Perched on his shoulder, the little black tsubame fluttered her wings and fixed him with a bright, knowing eye. “Your confusion’s understandable, Haruto,” she said. “My Kirindrake doesn’t just cross distance—it crosses time too. Weeks have flown by in the blink of an eye for you. Now you stand in the Takuma Isles, beneath the domain of the Red Takuma, on the day King Goritsu XI of Majokawa is set to wrestle Lord Kinryu of Onikawa.”

Haruto rubbed at the back of his neck. His system interface flickered faintly in his peripheral vision, as if scanning the environment. “Wrestling match, huh? Sounds like a big deal,” he said. “But why does everything about it feel…grim?”

The tsubame’s voice dropped low. “Because it is. Lord Kinryu is unbelievably strong—no one’s beaten him in open battle. But King Goritsu XI is rumored to be even more terrifying when it comes to raw grappling. Strength, cunning, cruelty—he’s got it all. And to top things off, the winner gets the right to declare the other side subjugated or left alone. If you ask me, this is a recipe for broken bones.”

Haruto exhaled. Below them, a deep rocky ravine sloped down to the sea. Jutting out over the ravine was the palace of the Red Takuma: a low, rambling fortress built from the same stone as the cliff so that at first glance it was hard to tell where the rock ended and the palace began. A wide meadow stretched beyond, neatly clipped turf that had been turned into a makeshift arena. Tents dotted the north side—Majokawa’s forces—and the south side—Onikawa’s. Dead center lay a roped-off wrestling ring measuring sixty paces square.

Only the keening gulls and the rush of the ocean wind broke the silence, except for half a dozen men pacing before the Majokawa tents. Their gear shone under the sun: bronze armor, matching shields, and visored helms. One man among them stood a full head taller than his companions, a streak of gray in his beard but a dangerous vitality in his posture. Haruto’s system display lit up:

[Name: Korudo (Lv 47 Royal Spear of Majokawa), Class: Majokawa War Champion, Special Skills: Overpowering Thrust (Rank B), Iron Will (Rank A), Current XP: 22,400 / 30,000]

“That’s Korudo,” said the tsubame, nodding at him. “He’s older than the rest, but he’s got the highest strength stat in that group. And you see those younger soldiers? They’re his sons—and each one’s trouble on two legs.”

Haruto watched them prowl back and forth like caged tigers. Then Korudo halted, gestured to one of his sons, and spoke in a low voice. The son ducked inside the largest tent, returning moments later with a lean, sharp-eyed figure wearing a dark violet robe. Haruto’s system flickered again:

[Name: Gurou (Lv 42 Arcane Tactician), Class: Exiled Strategist, Special Skills: Mind’s Eye (Rank A), Calculated Deceit (Rank B),Current XP: 16,700 / 22,000]

Gurou’s nose curved like a sickle, and the rest of his features were delicate and pale, contrasting the carefully curled black beard that glinted in the sunlight. At Korudo’s silent signal, he followed the older man a few steps away from the tents.

Korudo’s voice was rough, the words driven by urgency: “All right, Gurou, don’t mince words. How’s the King holding up?”

Gurou exhaled. “He’s itching to start. And while he waits, he’s passing the time with dice against Koren. Luck’s been…unfriendly.”

At that, Korudo barked a humorless laugh. “Dice can’t tell the future. War doesn’t often mirror gambling throws. Still—makes me uneasy.”

He clapped Gurou on the shoulder with a familiarity that spoke of some alliance forged over the years. “Look,” he said, voice dropping. “Don’t keep secrets from us, not now. We’ve all stood together these last four years. If you know something about the King’s mood—some dire omen—come clean.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Gurou’s face. “You’re not the only one who sees storm clouds brewing,” he murmured. “But if we start proclaiming doom, we’ll just topple a tree that’s already swaying. Let’s hold on to what hope we have.”

Korudo let out a low rumble in his throat. “We had plenty of warnings: that raven circling Kasei the night the King accepted Lord Kinryu’s challenge. His near-misstep boarding our ship to these islands. The creeping bravado he shows whenever he’s had too much wine. None of it bodes well. Feels like the gods themselves want him undone.”

Gurou nodded grimly. “I won’t deny it. My own dreams turn black as pitch. But there’s no stopping him now.”

Before Korudo could reply, the palace gates opened wide, and a procession emerged. There was the Red Takuma himself, riding in a lacquered ebony carriage pulled by six black horses. In front, pipers and drummers filled the meadow with a haunting melody, while fifty of the Red Takuma’s personal guard marched in tight formation behind, clad in crimson-stained armor that gave the illusion of being drenched in fresh blood. The Red Takuma’s scarlet skin and silver diadem, along with his layered robes trimmed in sable, made him an otherworldly sight.

He raised a hand, and a horn blasted three sharp notes. From the south side, the Oni of Onikawa appeared: Lord Jūsō (Lv 55 Oni Warlord), Lord Kinryu (Lv 57 Heartseeker), Lord Homura (Lv 52 Flame Champion), and Lord Daigo (Lv 53 Sword Dancer). Rank upon rank of Oni fighters followed, though Kinryu himself wore only a gold-embroidered cloak with crimson hearts stitched upon it. Haruto’s display scrolled:

[Name: Lord Kinryu (Lv 57 – Heartseeker), Class: Oni Champion, Special Skills: Dragon’s Grip (Rank S), Earthshatter Throw (Rank A), Current XP: 49,900 / 60,000]

Kinryu’s presence filled the meadow as he strode forth, every muscle set with the confidence of one who’d never known defeat. Meanwhile, the Majokawa forces emerged from the north side. Their own champion advanced—a tall figure wrapped in black silk lined with bearskin, a cloak patterned with diamond-crusted crabs. His crown, shaped like an enormous jeweled crab, caught the sun’s rays and refracted them in dazzling bursts.

[Name: King Goritsu XI (Lv 58 – Iron Serpent), Class: Majokawa Overlord, Special Skills: Titan Crush (Rank S), Serpent’s Maw (Rank A), Current XP: 55,500 / 70,000]

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At the King’s left elbow towered Korudo (Lv 47), whose stride seemed half a step behind his liege. On the right, a younger warrior in bright armor—the cocky Koren (Lv 43 Royal Blade), all swagger and smirking glance. King Goritsu’s eyes gleamed green as a wolf’s beneath his cropped black hair.

The Red Takuma, standing in his ebony car, called for the horn to sound a second time. When silence fell, he recited the terms in a voice clear as crystal: “Hear me, King Goritsu XI of Majokawa, and Lord Kinryu of Onikawa. By your sacred oaths, you shall wrestle three falls. If King Goritsu wins, he secures his right to press claims against Onikawa. If Lord Kinryu wins, Majokawa shall never again assert dominion over the Oni. Both of you have sworn to wrestle fairly under my judgment. Let neither side violate these conditions, on penalty of dire shame and the wrath of the gods. Are you agreed?”

“Agreed,” King Goritsu said, low and menacing.

“Agreed,” Lord Kinryu echoed, unflinching.

They each cast aside their cloaks, revealing physiques that might have been chiseled from stone. Goritsu was marginally taller and longer of limb, but Kinryu’s proportions were flawless, his chest broad as a smith’s anvil, his arms thick with cords of muscle. A murmur of awe rippled through onlookers.

King Goritsu’s voice cut the hush. “You Oni have grown too proud. Let me educate you. This ring is my classroom. I won’t stop until I hear your bones break—until your body’s ground to dust under me. After I’ve sent your soul scurrying into the shadows, I’ll mount your skull as the hundredth trophy to adorn Kasei, a testament to my unstoppable might. And then…” He shrugged as if bored. “Then, I’ll pay a visit to Onikawa and show your brethren how easily I turn them into slaves.”

Kinryu gave a tight, mirthless smile. “Hey, Red Takuma,” he said mildly, as if ignoring the King’s threats, “I’m not here to trade insults. Let’s get to it. I’d rather let my strength do the talking.”

At the Red Takuma’s signal, bronze cymbals clashed. Round one began. The two men seized each other in a crushing grip, right arms below, left arms above. Their feet dug furrows in the turf, legs braced like ancient oak trunks in a storm. Haruto watched, breath caught in his throat, as neither champion yielded an inch. At last, Kinryu summoned his monstrous strength, managing to lift the King an inch off the ground. But Goritsu, face reddening with effort, lashed out a heel to hook Kinryu’s calf, forcing him to loosen the hold or risk being toppled backward. The crowd gasped at the technique.

They held fast, arms digging into muscle, until welts rose on their shoulders. Suddenly, Goritsu twisted sideways, hooking his own leg inside Kinryu’s. He tried to pull Kinryu backward, aiming to fall on him like a collapsing avalanche. Kinryu, however, leaned forward with unstoppable power, so both men crashed to the ground side by side. Neither had gained a decisive advantage.

The Red Takuma called it a draw, and the two parted to catch their breath. Haruto noted something on his system interface:

[Lord Kinryu has gained 500 XP for battling a formidable foe. Current XP: 50,400 / 60,000]

At that moment, a small batlike creature flitted from the Majokawa tents, circling the ring once, then slipping back inside. Gurou, watching from the sidelines, pressed his lips together in apprehension and turned to whisper urgently to Korudo.

Then Gurou approached King Goritsu, bowing. “My lord,” he said under his breath, “forgive me, but you’ve already demonstrated your superiority. Everyone saw how you nearly threw him. Let’s not risk another round. Command us to launch a sudden strike on the Oni while they’re unsuspecting. The Takuma's here are meek enough to be cowed when they see us dispatch Onikawa’s champions.”

The King’s eyes darkened. “Gurou,” he said, “that’s your cunning mind talking, not your loyalty. Don’t undermine my chance at personal glory.”

Gurou ventured a quiet protest. “There are…omens, my lord. My dreams have been grim.”

“Tell me about these dreams,” the King said.

So Gurou laid it out: a vision of blood, the sky ripped open, a bearded star trailing fire, an unearthly screech warning “Majokawa undone, O King!” Goritsu only scoffed.

“You’d have me forfeit the kill so you can swoop in like some knight in shining armor. That’s not how I do things, fox. Now slink back to your corner and watch me finish off the big Oni.”

Gurou bowed, troubled, but dared say no more. The horn blared again. Round two commenced.

The King lunged like a panther, driving Kinryu nearly past the boundary ropes. Kinryu tried to hoist him off the ground again, but Goritsu shoved him down in a crushing hug, threatening to snap Kinryu’s spine. The Oni champion, face contorting, summoned all his might. He twisted, first to one side, then the other, loosening the King’s grip. Then he attempted a sudden flip, sliding behind Goritsu’s center of gravity to fling him overhead. But for all his raw strength, he couldn’t budge Goritsu clean off the ground. On the fourth attempt, the King threw him forward. Kinryu landed on hands and knees, and Goritsu locked both arms beneath his armpits, ready to clasp his hands behind Kinryu’s neck.

Korudo, watching intently, said in a hushed tone, “This is it. The King’s used that hold to destroy over sixty champions.”

“He’s taking too long,” Gurou muttered. “I don’t like it.”

Goritsu grunted, breathing hard, sweat running down his temples. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite lace his fingers behind Kinryu’s thick neck. With a growl of disgust, he let go. “Stand up,” he spat. “I refuse to wallow in the dirt with you.”

They squared off again in grim silence. Goritsu feinted a repeat of his earlier twist but, at the last second, jammed his fingers into Kinryu’s nostrils, clawing viciously. Kinryu recoiled in shock, and the King leveraged that moment to slam him flat on his back. The impact rocked the arena. Goritsu fell atop him, and Kinryu lay motionless, momentarily stunned. The Red Takuma, clearly fearful of the King’s glare, ruled it a clean win for Goritsu.

On the Majokawa side, cheers erupted. Goritsu stalked away, flexing his fingers in triumph. Gurou spotted blood on the King’s nails and grimaced. “He stoops to that,” Gurou whispered, “only when he’s desperate.”

Meanwhile, Kinryu rose shakily to his feet. Daigo and Homura rushed in, checking him for injuries. Kinryu’s eyes blazed with wrath. “He fouled me,” he declared loudly. “He jammed his fingers up my nose. That’s no fair wrestling.”

Shouts and curses rang out from Majokawa, calling Kinryu a liar. The Red Takuma, obviously torn, wavered. Korudo lingered behind the King, while Koren stepped up to whisper threats in the Red Takuma’s ear. Pale with indecision, the Red Takuma finally declared the match would continue. The third bout would settle everything.

Another flittermouse soared out from the Majokawa tents, circling the ring once again. Haruto saw the tension climb with every beat of its wings. Kinryu realized the official wouldn’t overturn the foul, and his face contorted, fury radiating off him like heat shimmer. When the final round began, he exploded. With a wild roar, he seized Goritsu’s arm, pivoted, and hurled him overhead in a single fluid motion that defied belief. The King slammed headfirst into the ground. A dull crunch echoed over the meadow. Blood dribbled from his nose and ears. Goritsu XI, King of Majokawa, lay twisted and broken, his spine crushed by the devastating throw.

Silence. The Oni champion sagged forward, energy spent, and Lord Jūsō and Lord Homura hurried to steady him, draping his golden cloak around his shoulders. On the Majokawa side, men rushed in, faces aghast. Korudo bent, lifted the King’s limp body, and discovered, in that dreadful moment, that there was no breath left in him.

Without speaking, Majokawa’s warriors formed a solemn litter from their spears, laid their King upon it, and placed his jewel-encrusted crab crown back on his brow. Grim-faced, they carried him away to their tents. The rest followed in silence, as though any sound might profane this shocking defeat. The Red Takuma, eyes wide with alarm, stepped down from his carriage and stared after them. But no one spoke.

From his vantage high on the downs, Haruto caught his breath, a strange mix of awe and dread filling his heart. He’d never witnessed anything like it: the raw power of two unstoppable forces colliding in this savage contest, with the fate of entire nations hinged on every hold and throw. His system display flickered at the edge of his vision:

[Lord Kinryu has gained 20,000 XP for vanquishing King Goritsu XI. Level Up! Lord Kinryu: Lv 57 → Lv 58]