What can you do in five seconds?
Drink a mouthful of water, write a sentence. It could be a hero's ultimate move—or enough time to get crowd-controlled to death. For an ordinary person, it's a five-meter stroll; for a sprinter, a fifty-meter dash.
And if you had the power to freeze time for five seconds?
You could untie your friend's shoelaces and tuck them under his foot. You could cheat at cards. Fire three bullets from a pistol—or eighty from a gatling gun. An armed commoner could kill a master, or a master could turn the tide in an instant.
Stepping over Shigetsu's lifeless head, Isshin, the Cursed Blade drove his sword mercilessly into Yasen's heart.
"To them, destroying that tree and letting me claim its power makes no difference. But really, we should thank them for fighting so desperately—so we can reap the fisherman's reward."
Yae Miko lay collapsed from blocking the lightning sea. Beidou could barely endure. Victor Wang looked heavily drained. Only Kazuha and Kamisato Ayato still had strength left.
Among the enemies, the seemingly least threatening—Isshin, wielding the Chief Instructor's body—strode alone toward the shrine. Behind him, the Demonic Ring stood smiling coldly.
"You'll never succeed—Clouds hide... the bird's call!"
Kazuha charged, channeling lingering traces of Electro in the ground. His ethereal slash wasn't meant to strike down, but to summon a swirling field of wind. The purple wind blades dispersed like falling leaves, cutting toward Isshin.
Ayato prepared to act, but Isshin began to count: "One, two, three, four… and a fox. Five seconds. One each second. Just right."
Instantly, Kazuha's Autumn Whirlwind field froze. The drifting violet maple leaves, the endless cherry blossoms on Mount Yougou's peak—all suspended. Ayato's iaijutsu, faster than the eye can react, halted at the draw.
Beidou braced on her claymore, Yae Miko lay battered, shrine maidens huddled, lantern flames in cages, the moon in the pond, the thunderclouds dispersing overhead—everything stopped.
The stillness came so suddenly that Victor Wang hadn't even realized—he was mid-strike at Isshin, when he saw the man's blade pierce straight toward Kazuha's heart. And Kazuha did not dodge, no instinct, no reflex.
"…Hm?"
"…Hm?"
Across Kazuha's body, Isshin met Victor's eyes in confusion. Why? Why could this one still move?
Even with just scraps of temporal authority from the five roots—enough for only five seconds of stasis—there was no way this brat should resist.
These five precious seconds—carefully rehearsed countless times—were meant for one thing.
The plan had always had three cautions: first, the unmatched Raiden Shogun; second, Yae Miko in full strength, impossible to kill in five seconds; third, Tenkyuu Shigetsu, too powerful, too unpredictable.
As for the others?
North Wing pawns, Yasen—frozen, helpless, their human bodies far too fragile to resist.
Up until a second ago, everything was perfect.
The Shogun had not come. That brat had killed Yasen. Yasen's forced trump card—Shigetsu's suicidal attack—had broken the fox's barrier, drained her power, and destroyed itself.
All three worries—gone. Could fortune be sweeter?
In truth, Isshin almost wanted to thank the brat. But enough was enough—he didn't need him moving now!
His blade pressed harder. Time waited for no one.
"Starshift!"
Too late—yet the earth beneath Kazuha shifted, dragging him just out of line.
This wasn't shaping his own constructs but altering natural terrain—costlier, slower, bound to ground. Useless against foes like the Demonic Ring. But it was frozen now.
"Then I'll kill you first!"
One second lost—Isshin seethed. Gales swirled around him. His giant body blurred, his left hand swelling into a Wind Roar Fist thrice larger than the Chief Instructor had ever shown. The pull was irresistible, shredding blossoms and stone, dragging Victor in.
His right hand slashed thrice, sending invisible wind rings—one at the eyes, one at the neck, one at the ankle. Vicious.
Victor didn't resist the pull—instead closing in. The Thousand Sighs sensed the blades, and he raised his sword at his feet, his left arm armoring in Geo.
Screeching friction—the ankle spared, but his arm cut, blood seeping.
Then came the fist, roaring like a storm.
"Huuhhh…"
A stone wall rose, shattered. Another Geo shield flared, its golden lines flickering—barely holding out, until the fist exploded through.
Two seconds gone.
Wiping blood from his lips, Victor spat: "Coward!"
"Strike where it hurts—that's common sense."
The three wind rings didn't dissipate, but continued slicing toward Yae Miko, Beidou, and Ayato.
For them, frozen like mortals before Vision-bearers, even one cut meant death. Victor had no choice but to shield them—none were fatal, but all bleeding.
"I'll strike openly as well as secretly. Three seconds left—plenty to finish them."
Isshin twisted, arms coiling, feet feinting. He shed the gales clinging to him in a second, splitting them into four tornadoes instead of three—adding Kazuha as a target.
Not mere twisters, but vertical saws of wind-rings stacked like spinning buzzsaws, meant to shred flesh to dust.
Even weakened, Isshin lunged for Victor directly, intent on ending him blade to blade.
"Let's see if you can still block this!"
In the chaos, Victor saw one small mercy—Isshin's elemental might was lesser than Shigetsu's or Yae Miko's. Still top-tier, yes, wielding the noble rule of time. But wasn't unstoppable.
Too bad his shields still fell short. If only he had Zhongli's Jade Shield—then it would hold.
But Zhongli wasn't here. Their lives were in his hands.
What to do… what to do…
Two more seconds. Please—two seconds… just two…
A sudden clarity struck him: to wield a true shield, you must first learn to raise it for those you wish to protect.
"Answer me, power of Geo!!!"
His spirit drained dry again—but this time, without doubt. His sword met Isshin's, clashing as the storm closed.
Isshin's style was bizarre—like hundreds fighting through one body. Styles clashing, flowing without flow, yet each response perfect.
But Isshin sought not defense—he needed a swift kill.
"You'd cast aside your comrades? Look—behind you. That fox is about to be shredded by 'Weasel's Frenzy.'"
"This time—I'll defeat you."
"Tch!"
Four seconds.
Isshin grew frantic. Without time, there was nothing—space was stagnant, life and death was meaningless. Time was motion itself—the reason he reigned among the Four Heavenly Kings of the Battle Technique Hunters.
But—why?!
He abandoned dodges, aiming for trades. Alongside time, he wielded spirit—one hit, and victory.
And then—he saw Victor pull his strike, sparing the body he held.
"You… you still remember him? That man broke long ago! Two hundred years looping a false day, ending a puppet of illusion! Yet you hold back for this husk? Pathetic weakness! Don't blame me for striking low!"
He used the Chief Instructor's body as a shield. Victor grew more hesitant. Isshin knocked the Wentian Sword free, forcing Victor to block barehanded with Geo armor.
"This scene is so familiar. That mirage captured you perfectly."
Isshin's blade locked in Victor's bleeding arm, deep to the bone.
"This time, the illusion matches reality. Deceptive, isn't it? But I know it's an illusion!" He braced for a third entry into the Temporal Mirage—yet the world stayed. The sky didn't crack, no reset.
"…Impossible… You too… and stronger… higher grade… How can it be?! A worm like you… how?!"
"You're acting so deep in character? Fine—I'll play too. 'Looks like you and I… are the same.'"
The five seconds ended.
Kazuha and Ayato, closest, felt the danger through Victor's shield and leapt back. Beidou, drained, still managed to move. Even Yae Miko stirred, while the Demonic Ring watched gleefully.
The power Victor had split among them now freed halfway. He shouted, dramatic as ever:
"Even in an illusion—I won't let my friends be harmed!"
Kazuha's shield and Ayato's layered protection thickened over Beidou and Yae Miko.
All eyes turned to Victor at the center, and to Isshin.
"…Big brother? Big brother…?" the Demonic Ring cried.
Isshin roared in disbelief.
"Impossible!!!"