Yamikaji crawled backward away from Takeshi's sword and stopped in front of him, a wide grin splitting his wrinkled face.
"The tables have turned again, pest."
Takeshi tried to move but could only tilt his head toward Yamikaji, struggling and snarling,
"Don't you dare call me that title again!"
Yamikaji lifted a finger and tapped Takeshi's forehead with it.
"If you'd handed us your sword from the start, none of this would have happened."
Takeshi drew breath with difficulty, as if his lungs were leaving his exhausted body, and replied,
"Damn you… give me back my sword — it's the last thing I have, you scoundrels!"
Yamikaji ignored him and stepped into the cabin with measured strides as if everything that had happened meant nothing. He went to the pile of battered books Takeshi owned, picked one up, then turned back.
"You told me earlier that those were your possessions…"
He lifted The First Generation of Aura and a putrid smile spread across his face as he jeered,
"You mean these possessions? A scrap of metal and a stack of torn paper?!"
Hysterical laughter burst from his mouth, followed by forced laughs from Juso and Vard — laughter that sounded fake, as if compelled.
Takeshi's eyes reddened and blood trickled from his mouth from the force of his clenched teeth. The poison had spread through his body, yet he struggled — struggled to move.
Seeing Takeshi's will to move, Yamikaji stopped laughing and tossed the book aside, his usual tone returning.
"I've poisoned many bodies before you — some died, others were left permanently paralyzed. But you're the only one of my victims who managed to move even an inch."
He stepped closer to the helpless Takeshi, eyeing the sword he had come for. He stood over him, then flicked his foot and kicked the blade out of Takeshi's hand.
All Takeshi could do was watch his sword fall from his grip to the ground.
"For clinging to that trash out of love, you stayed attached. If you hadn't dropped it, I would've cut your hand off. You were lucky."
"Why?"
…
"Why!!?? Why do you want my sword so badly that you call it trash? Why does a gang like yours want to ruin my life more and more? Why take the last thing I have?!"
Takeshi shouted with everything he had left as the poison burned in his throat.
"You're incredibly ignorant…"
Yamikaji turned his back on Takeshi and addressed Juso and Vard, directing his words to Vard:
"Bring me that sword now."
Vard set the cage down and approached Takeshi to obey Yamikaji's order without protest.
Takeshi lifted his eyes to see Vard coming toward him while he fought to move.
'I feel my muscles contracting — I must move now! I must fight! I must struggle! I must respond to what's happening!'
Vard stood before Takeshi, bent down, and reached for the sword. Through tremendous pain, Takeshi lashed out, throwing his hand toward Vard's face. Summoning all his strength, he grabbed Vard's face hard, twisted his head, and slammed it into the ground.
Takeshi didn't stop there; he raised his fist to crush Vard's skull with a final blow, but his hand froze midair for two reasons:
The poison that causes temporary paralysis.
A brown root had seized his hand.
"Until now I've shown you three types of my roots out of four: the black is hard, good for defense but inflexible; the green is fast and poisonous but its strike is slow; the brown is quick and flexible but weak. Your poisoned body won't withstand it, so surrender now."
Juso stepped forward and addressed Vard:
"Get up and carry out our leader's order, Vard."
With trembling hands, Vard rose, blood slowly dripping from his head, his face smeared with soil and blood.
"What happened?"
Takeshi fell to his knees and tried to catch his breath, but the action needed enormous effort because of the poison.
Yamikaji furrowed his brow and thought to himself,
'Despite the poison and the unstable ground causing Vard's injury — damn! What physical ability does this brat have?'
Vard understood his role and what had brought them here. He approached Takeshi's sword slowly, reached out, and this time grabbed it.
"There!"
Vard felt his energy being drained; sweat rolled down his cheeks and his breathing rose.
"Boss! This sword is drawing my aura!"
Yamikaji's expression shifted from frown to delight; he smiled and said,
"Drop it to the ground."
Vard obeyed and threw Takeshi's sword down. Yamikaji pulled on a sturdy black glove inlaid with dull yellow crystals that never seemed to shine. He put it on and stepped forward eagerly, seized the sword, and at the moment his glove touched the hilt, the crystals flared with a blinding yellow light — as bright as a sun cresting the highest peaks.
Everyone stared at that overwhelming light. The brilliance subsided after a moment and dimmed to a certain level.
"Heh… heh heh… hahahahahaha!!"
Yamikaji burst into laughter that echoed through the dark forest. Juso and the injured Vard forced hollow laughs behind him, as if they had completed a five-year task.
"What are you laughing at? Is the glow of that glove so amusing?" asked Takeshi in a hollow voice of despair.
Juso answered quickly,
"Away from mocking your dire state, these are laughs of victory."
Yamikaji raised the sword high so the sun's golden rays reflected off it and said coldly,
"Juso, Vard… throw the boy to the Rivarg."
(The creature inside the cage is called a Rivarg.)
"Huh?"
Takeshi opened his mouth instinctively — no one would have expected such a command.
Vard moved the cage and carried it toward the boy lying next to Juso. He opened it. Rivargs do not awaken during the day unless there's fire nearby.
"Do you have any shred of feeling? Answer me, you bastards!!"
Takeshi could do nothing but scream and shout questions in anger.
Yamikaji's reply was sarcastic and shocking:
"Oh, right! This monster won't wake unless there's fire nearby…"
He spread his hands, and dull red trunks launched toward Takeshi's cabin, slowly surrounding it from the threshold up to the collapsing roof under everyone's eyes. "This is the last variant of my power: the red trunks. Juso, make a spark now."
Juso stepped to the trunks, held out his hand, snapped his fingers to make a small spark, and the red trunks burst into flames.
"You bastard!"
Takeshi could only watch what was happening. The flames crept along the red trunks, spread to the cabin, and the building caught fire.
Black smoke rose from the burning pile as ash scattered. The firelight reflected in Takeshi's trembling eyes, mixing anger, sorrow, longing, and many emotions that tore at his heart.
Takeshi surrendered to the moment, lowering his head under the double weight of psychological and physical pain. Yamikaji stood beside him; the usual mischief had vanished from his features, and seriousness appeared for the last time.
"You said earlier that your sword was your last possession? Perhaps now you realize you had much more, and you will lose even more…"
Buried feelings awakened inside Takeshi; hatred filled his heart and drove a blade of anger deep in. He raised his head, staring at Yamikaji with dead, hollow eyes, grit his teeth until blood dripped from his lips, and said:
"Remember this face! Remember this moment well, Yamikaji! Your end — no, the end of your foolish gang — will be by my hand! I will hang your heads in front of a throng so everyone sees your end!! I will never forget what happened today as long as I live!"
Yamikaji turned his gaze away from Takeshi, walked past Juso and Vard who followed him, and they walked… and walked… until their shadows vanished into the forest, leaving behind a pile of fire, a horde, and a child.
The Rivarg, roused by the flames, lifted its pale head and saw free prey before it. Without warning it swiped its first claw through the boy's head and its second through his entrails, tearing him apart and sinking its sharp fangs into his shoulder as Takeshi cried out in pain.
"Yamikaji, Juso, Vard… Skull King Gang… I will get my sword back and sharpen it with your skins."