The coliseum was different. More imposing, more ruthless. Blue flames burned in the torches—a clear sign that tonight, magic would intertwine with brutality.
Reiji and his team walked through stone hallways lit by floating runes. Every step toward the arena felt heavier, as if the place knew what was coming.
"Do you feel that?" Aika whispered. "It's like we're being watched from... everywhere."
"The Night of a Thousand Eyes," Reiji replied softly. "It's not just a name."
Once in the arena, a presenter in crimson robes with a black veil over their face appeared amid sparks of ethereal fire. Their voice was hypnotic, like a dark chant:
"Welcome to the final phase of this endless night! Today, the Coliseum of Kinzoku no Hana will not only witness battle... but the trial of soul and memory."
A magical wave swept through the place, activating arcane transmission seals. Hundreds of orbs floated high, broadcasting everything to nobles, military officials, and influential figures across the kingdom.
"This time, brute strength won't be enough. Purpose, history, and hidden truth will also be weighed. Those who reach the end... will be judged by the eyes of the Omnipresent."
Donyoku swallowed hard.
"Glory, answers... or eternal shame," he murmured.
"We've got plenty of that already," Chisiki joked, though his smile was tight.
---
Hidden among the high balconies, the figure of the Viper watched with unnatural calm. She wore a cloak of living shadows that slithered like reptilian tongues. Her eyes didn't just see the fighters... but the symbols they represented.
"Chaos is already sown," she whispered to no one. "Now it just needs to be watered with pain."
Her fingers moved as if playing an invisible melody. She was waiting for her moment. Because the real show… hadn't even begun.
---
Meanwhile, high above the coliseum, Enma walked down a private corridor, alarmed by a cold premonition. The ceremonial door to the organizers' chamber was ajar.
Inside, silence reigned.
The six high judges lay on the table, drained of blood without a drop spilled. The scene didn't show rage, but calculation. Absolute precision. Possibly an intelligent poison.
She understood instantly.
"The Viper... has already moved," she murmured, her tone unchanged. Her face remained calm, but judgment burned in her eyes.
She walked to the center of the room, took the Seal of Judgment—a ceremonial black gold ring with a closed eye—and hid it in her sleeve.
"Then... tonight I'll play a role that wasn't written," she said with a resigned sigh, her gaze returning to the mystery only the Omnipresent could understand.
---
The white marble reflected the faint light of the blue torches. In the center of the room, on a raised throne carved from dark jade, the King of Hokori watched the floating orbs broadcasting the horrors of the clandestine coliseum.
He wore a ceremonial cloak of black scales—a symbol of eternal dominion. In his right hand, he held a chalice of ancient wine. In his gaze, there was only disgust and fascination.
At his side stood his personal bodyguard: Kyomu, the Hollow Man. Dressed in a plain gray kimono, with almost translucent skin and eyes sunken into shadow, he looked more like an obedient corpse than a man.
"Tell me, Kyomu... what do you see in all this?"
Kyomu bowed slightly, like a twisted sage.
"A replica of the past... disguised as the future. Flesh worth more than ideas. Souls sold like rare minerals. Justice bought... And spectacle... triumphant."
The King sipped, eyes fixed on the image of chained, mutilated slaves being offered like currency.
"Beautiful poetry for a sewer, Kyomu," he said quietly. "But something stirs me more than all that."
He leaned forward, voice turning coarse, venomous.
"They use my people. My blood. My slaves. And they didn't ask permission."
Kyomu nodded, without judgment.
"A subtle betrayal. A party without its god."
"Exactly," whispered the King, smiling faintly. "As if Hokori's heart could beat without my hand pushing its valves."
He rose slowly, the orbs reflecting a mix of rage and delight on his face.
"But there's something else... something interesting. A truth is brewing down there. A revelation. And if someone tries to enlighten the people before I do..."
He gripped the chalice until it cracked.
"...then I'll make them swallow their light until it burns their soul."
Kyomu smiled ever so slightly.
"Then the purge will begin."
---
Beyond the arena, the coliseum's corridors were dark labyrinths filled with scents of cheap incense, sweat, blood, and burned flesh.
In one cell, a woman bandaged from eyes to ankles sang lullabies. Beside her, a mute boy listened silently, clutching a wooden sword.
A vendor cried cheerfully:
"Virgin slave, sensitive to Ki! Perfect for rituals or pleasure! Trained children who die without screaming! Guaranteed!"
At the betting table, souls were traded as casually as rice.
"I bet on the Black Gale. That weird kid won't last five minutes."
"You betting out of fear or because you're already missing an arm?"
"I bet what's left of my voice. If I lose, my son becomes a ritual slave."
A woman wept in a corner, offering her rings and teeth.
And amid it all, the fighters' names echoed like idols of a sick religion.
---
"Welcome to the second fight of the third phase! This time, ladies and degenerates... presenting the nationless child, the scholar without cause, the soul that walks between logic and madness! WELCOME... THE SCHOLAR!"
Chisiki walked into the arena. This time, he wore a light cloak of dark linen, tied at the neck. His steps were precise. His eyes downcast. He felt lonelier than ever.
"And in the corner of horror... the executioner of the swamp of corpses! The soul who made torture sing! KAZUO, the Scythe of Kuromizu!"
Kazuo, a lanky giant with ash-stained skin, hurled his spear to the ground and grinned:
"I'm going to slice your throat like rotted fruit."
---
Kazuo charged without hesitation. His spear turned into a segmented whip, covered in dark Ki. Chisiki dodged without using portals. Not yet.
One thrust missed his neck by a hair. Another grazed his abdomen.
Chisiki began to retreat. He was fast, but Kazuo had a butcher's instinct—dirty, unpredictable, lethal without honor.
"Are you a boy or just a broken equation?" Kazuo growled.
Chisiki deflected an attack with his palm and created a micro-portal. Part of the spear vanished into the void and reappeared from another angle—wounding Kazuo's own arm.
But Kazuo didn't scream. He laughed.
Then struck Chisiki in the face with the spear's butt.
Blood.
For the first time, the Scholar bled in the coliseum.
---
In that moment, while wiping his blood, Chisiki heard a voice from the past:
"When you awaken your Shinkon... What justice will you pursue, Chisiki?"
His father sat at the edge of a dock. The water moved without rhythm.
"Justice for the people... or the one inside your logic? Both bleed. Both sacrifice."
"I..." his younger self answered. "I just want answers."
"And when you have them? Who will bleed for them?"
The image vanished.
---
Chisiki raised his arms.
"Kūkan no Jūryoku: Mass Distortion."
The ground shifted. Gravity warped. Kazuo's body began to deform slightly, as if parts of his flesh were pulled in multiple directions.
But Kazuo roared and activated his Shinkon. A massive scythe made of bone and black energy emerged from his back.
"YOU'RE NOT BEATING ME, CRAZY KID!!!"
Impact.
The scythe tore Chisiki's cloak and sliced part of his left shoulder. A clean, deep cut.
Chisiki gasped. The world spun. For a moment, he felt true fear.
But then...
"Sokumen Kikai. Mechanical Aspect."
Chisiki touched his chest and created an invisible structure that mirrored the weapon's path.
A replica of the scythe emerged from a portal and pierced Kazuo with his own attack.
The ground shook.
Kazuo fell to his knees, coughing blood. His final words:
"Maybe you were more than a kid... but I died a free man..."
And collapsed.
---
Meanwhile…
In one of the coliseum's corridors…
"Seimei is here?" Reiji whispered, his face covered.
Bokusatsu nodded and showed him a hidden passage behind sake barrels and ritual masks.
"My slave knows too many truths. And the Omnipresent doesn't tolerate truths without control."
Both entered the darkness, as the crowd roared, hungry for more blood.
---
The city shone with artificial lights, but beneath the surface, everything reeked of rot.
Narikami, sword at his side, wandered aimlessly through Kinzoku no Hana's back alleys. He'd left behind his seals, his honor, even his principles. All in the name of the city. All for a crime not yet committed... but already staining his hands.
The night wrapped around him like a silent oath.
"One life... for a thousand. That's the arithmetic of hell."
---
Not far from the coliseum entrance, Yodaku marched with ten uniformed men, all bearing royal insignias and eyes of steel. His mere presence made illegal guards tremble. The weight of his rank, the venom of his arrogance, heralded a storm.
---
Near a hidden alley, Reiji and Bokusatsu moved in the opposite direction, alert… until a liquid shadow dropped in front of them like a living curse.
"Took you long enough," rasped a repulsive voice, like a dry tongue over bone.
The Viper.
Without warning, her right hand opened like a bone flower. A curved, twisted fang emerged from her palm, dripping thick purple poison that hissed as it burned the floor.
In her Hizumi form, the bone blade grew longer, serrated, vibrating with a scent of death.
"I didn't come to talk. Just to rip out your souls," she said, lunging straight at Reiji.
He used his Soukei of illusions: multiple Reijis appeared, projecting fear, chaos, strategy.
But the Viper moved as if seeing through the lies. Her blade cut through the illusions like smoke. One, two, three slashes… Reiji barely dodged without injury.
"It's not working," he grunted, dodging by inches.
Then, a larger, grotesque but dignified figure stepped between them.
"Back off!" Bokusatsu roared, activating his Shinkon.
His skin mutated, darkening, as thousands of pores opened. Veins bulged, teeth lengthened, and monstrous muscles deformed his body.
In Soukei form, he still had control… but his strength was compressed hell.
The clash was immediate. Poison bone versus hardened flesh. Deformed fists against invisible cuts. Claws versus strategy.
The ground trembled. Walls shattered with every blow. Reiji retreated, searching for an opening… until the poisonous blade slipped through, heading for Bokusatsu's neck.
"Got you!" hissed the Viper, eyes wild.
But before the blade struck…
A sound like underwater chimes echoed. And a delicate figure in a loose kimono glided in like a cold breeze.
"Stop," said Seimei, without raising his voice.
His Shinkon appeared. A dance of translucent light petals spun around him like floating scales. When one touched the Viper's blade, it was launched backward as if hitting an invisible ocean.
For a moment, all froze.
Seimei, eyes half-closed, whispered:
"No point dying before the climax."
Silence. Even the Viper hesitated, pupils dilated, fangs still dripping.
"You two," Seimei added, looking at Reiji and Bokusatsu, "You're not ready for this act of the script. But don't worry. The show... has just begun."
The night roared again.
---
The forest was nearly dead.
Twisted, dry trees looked like statues of frozen pain. Few insects buzzed among the bushes, and the wind whispered warnings no one wanted to hear.
Hikaru sat on a rock, sword sheathed at his side. His usually relaxed face now shadowed—not by the forest, but by certainty.
Above him, the sky was full of stars. But none shone like he remembered. They all seemed dimmed, as if they'd lost faith in the earth.
"It's not just war anymore," he muttered, eyes unfocused. "It's rot."
A dry leaf fell beside him. Even the trees didn't want to bear weight anymore.
"This kingdom... is digging its own grave with a smile. And if we don't do something..."
He closed his eyes briefly, breathing deep.
"Everything that remains... will go to hell."
Silence. Only faded stars as witnesses.
Then, slowly, Hikaru stood. He took his sword, slung on his coat, and vanished into the darkness of the forest—toward the place where hell was about to explode.
---
When the sky no longer shines, it's the shadow that guides… even if only toward the fall.
Thank you for reading this chapter of Chi no Yakusoku. If you enjoyed it, don't forget to follow for the next step in this dark blood oath.