The air thickened, heat warping the atmosphere as molten cracks bled across the scorched, fractured ground. The scent of burned blood clung to the wind like expensive perfume—sharp, metallic, with a hint of something sweeter. Something wrong.
From the top of a glowing, jagged red stone, a figure leapt down barefoot—muscles gleaming with sweat, skin kissed by flame, and chewing nonchalantly on what was unmistakably a severed arm. The sound of flesh tearing echoed in the silence.
Yeaga's jaw slackened. "Okay… who the hell are they?"he muttered. "Why do they look like damn models walking out of a horror movie?"
"They're hot," he added after a beat, his grin returning. "Almost as hot as me. No wonder we wouldn't survive in a girl's school."
"They're Flame Shikiban,"Ishigo said coolly, eyes narrowing. "Elemental users. Fire-based. Lethal. And definitely not here to flirt."
From the molten ridgeline, more Shikiban emerged—each a terrifying hybrid of beauty and menace. They were tall, graceful, their movements unnaturally smooth. Males with sculpted physiques, some shirtless, tattoos glowing like molten circuits across their skin. Females with long limbs and sharp eyes, dressed in scorched silks that moved like they were cut from living fire.
One of them—a tall male with hair like dying coals and glowing crimson eyes—descended with silent grace. He raised the dismembered hand still gripped in his own, lips curling into a mocking grin.
"That Kageshiki was... chewy," he said, licking blood from his fingers. "I wonder if you three taste better."
He pointed the hand at them like a twisted joke, then tossed it aside. It hit the ground with a sickening thud, blood spattering the lava-streaked stones.
Yeaga smirked, cracking his neck. "You can't eat me," he said. "Only female Shikiban get that privilege."
Daigo's voice cut through the tension. "We're not food, you flaming twinks."
Then he moved. One second he was standing, the next he exploded forward like a cannonball, katana drawn and slicing through the heat-distorted air. His face was set, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with intent.
The female Shikiban stepped forward without urgency. Her expression remained passive, eyes half-lidded as though she was barely interested. Her fingers flicked upward in a fluid motion.
"Flame Technique: Scorchline Execution."
A pulse of energy rippled through the battlefield. Red aura flared from her palm, twisting and warping until it formed a mass of seething lava that hovered in her hand like a living thing. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled it.
It tore through the air like a meteor, trailing embers and molten rock. Daigo didn't flinch. He twisted mid-air, spinning once, katana glowing silver as he brought it down in a wide arc.
Shraaang!
The molten blast split cleanly in two, erupting into a cloud of steam and red sparks that hissed around him like vipers. The ground cracked where the attack had passed, lava bubbling up through new fractures.
Daigo landed, skidding backward as he spun his sword to cool it.
"Scorchline Execution?"he growled. "What kind of knockoff fireball was that?!"
Another Shikiban stepped forward—taller, broader, chest bare and covered in tribal flame tattoos that glowed with a slow pulse. His voice was deep and unshaken.
"It's one of our three core techniques,"he said. "We don't just wield fire. We are fire. And that wasn't weak. She was just being polite."
"Polite?" Yeaga chuckled, twirling his blade behind his back. "That's sweet. But we came here to melt you."
He stepped forward, flames licking up from the soles of his boots. His body shimmered with heat as he adjusted his stance, ready to lunge.
Ishigo raised a hand. "Hold. I want answers first."
He turned his gaze to the tattooed Shikiban. "You're the leader, aren't you?"
The man tilted his head, amused. "Yeah. Obviously."
"Do all Shikiban have leaders?"
The leader's tone turned informative. "In this domain? You Kageshiki group yourselves into squads. We do the same. Every trio of Shikiban has a leader. But that's just the lower structure."
Daigo raised an eyebrow. "What's above you?"
The man smiled faintly. "There are ten elite Shikiban—the Zai. We report to them. They're the pinnacle of our kind."
"Zai…"Ishigo repeated. His brows furrowed. "Who do the Zai answer to?"
The female spoke again, voice low. "Our king. Though… we haven't seen him in centuries."
"You don't know what he looks like?"Daigo asked, incredulous.
"He erased our memory of his face,"she said, examining her glowing nails. "Only the Zai are allowed to see him now."
"We've lived long enough to stop caring,"the leader added. "Immortality makes you forget the gods you once bowed to."
Daigo spat on the ground. "Sounds like a cult with great hair."
"Flattery won't save you,"the leader replied coolly. "But if you scream when we burn you, we might consider sparing a limb or two."
Without warning, the female Shikiban lunged.
Her body was flame incarnate—blurring into heatwaves, the tips of her silken garb disintegrating into sparks mid-motion. She dashed forward, lava erupting with every footstep. Her palm crackled with growing heat as she prepared a second strike.
Daigo met her head-on.
Steel clashed against searing aura. Their collision sent a shockwave through the field, flames spiraling outward in chaotic ribbons. The sky above darkened with ash. She swept low, aiming a burning leg kick toward his side—Daigo blocked, but his sleeve caught fire. He snarled and rolled, patting it down before vaulting back into range.
"Fast,"he muttered. "Too fast."
The Shikiban smirked. "You haven't even seen my second technique."
She spun in midair, her body erupting in fiery sigils that shimmered with raw energy.
"Flame Technique: Blazebind Mirage."
Suddenly, she duplicated—five flaming illusions of her moved in sync, surrounding Daigo like a pack of wolves. He narrowed his eyes, flipping his blade into a reverse grip.
"Fine," he muttered. "Let's play."
He leapt forward, slicing through the first illusion—it burst into fire. The others attacked from all sides. A kick grazed his shoulder, another swipe nearly caught his jaw. He ducked, rolled, sliced again.
The real Shikiban was laughing. It was a haunting, sultry sound.
"You're kind of cute when you're trying."
"I'm cuter when I'm killing,"Daigo snapped, flipping over her final clone and landing a cut across her real shoulder. She hissed, staggering back as blood mixed with flame.
Yeaga clapped slowly.
"Nice. Maybe we won't die today."
The leader of the Shikiban watched silently, the fire reflecting in his crimson eyes.
"You've got bite,"he admitted. "But this was only our introduction."
The air shifted again. More footsteps echoed from beyond the lava ridge.