Shoto's vision pulsed in and out of focus — colors smearing together like water on soaked canvas. Each breath came shallow, thin, barely audible beneath the soft crackle of burning debris left in the wake of Zan-Xi's last attack. His limbs refused to respond. His senses dulled.
But one voice cut through the ringing in his skull.
"Give up the swords."
Zan-Xi's words. Calm. Condescending. Absolute.
Then another.
"No resolve. No reason to fight. You just exist, clinging to some mural myth of a king you're supposed to be reborn from."
There was no rebuttal.
No defiant roar.
No dramatic comeback.
Shoto simply moved.
Stone shifted as he pushed himself upright, not like a warrior rising — but like a relic being unearthed. Dust slid from his shoulders. Rubble crackled as it fell away from his back. His hand — slick with blood and trembling — found the Zamorak Sword and gripped it with renewed certainty.
Across the battlefield, Zan-Xi tilted his head with amused intrigue.
"Oh? Standing already? Must be that king pride kicking in."
He did not wait for acknowledgment. His weapon spun lazily in his hand, morphing smoothly back into rifle form. The barrel swelled with light — holy, radiant, unforgiving. The air pulsed with pressure. Pebbles rose from the ground as gravity trembled around the charge.
"Die."
The blast erupted.
A spear of pure light — divine and absolute — screamed across the air toward Shoto.
And Shoto…
Inhaled.
Not symbolically.
Physically.
His chest expanded. Air warped. The beam's trajectory twisted as though grabbed by unseen hands, funneling into his open mouth like water down a vortex.
His throat glowed.
His scales lit like molten veins beneath onyx.
Then —
"…burp."
Soft. Almost polite. A small puff of dark steam hissed from between his teeth like pressure venting from a furnace.
Zan-Xi froze for a full two seconds.
"…th—that was it? That's your big comeback? What a joke!"
Shoto did not respond.
He simply straightened.
The scales across his face flared brighter — pulsing with stolen light. The gauntlets around his arms rumbled like engines preparing for ignition.
Zan-Xi's grin widened.
"Ohhh, this is great. You're finally entertaining. C'mon then."
Shoto stepped forward once.
CRACK.
The ground split beneath his foot.
His silence was no longer passive.
It was sentence.
BOOM—!!!
He vanished. A black-flamed fist tore past Zan-Xi's cheek, heat warping the air like glass near a forge.
"Wh—"
CRACK—!!!
A kick struck Zan-Xi in the ribs, sending him spinning across the courtyard. He rolled mid-air and landed on one knee — grinning through the pain.
"Using those gauntlets now, huh?!"
He swung upward — catching another blazing gauntlet barely inches from his face.
CLAAANG—!!!
The impact split the ground like lightning. Shoto pushed harder, black fire coiling up his arms like serpents ready to devour.
Zan-Xi cackled.
He released one hand from his sword —
—and pistol-whipped Shoto mid-transformation as the blade shifted back into rifle form.
WHACK!
Shoto's head jerked.
His feet did not move.
He stared forward — unblinking. Unfazed.
Zan-Xi paused.
"…Huh?"
WHAMMMMM!!!
Shoto headbutted him.
No technique. No finesse.
Just force.
The impact blasted Zan-Xi backward like a launched cannonball, sending him crashing through the remains of a classroom wall. Concrete crumbled over him. Dust billowed skyward.
Silence.
Ryuji's jaw dropped. Hikaru's glasses nearly slid off.
"What the hell…" Hikaru muttered.
Hina blinked, cheeks flushing faintly.
"…I don't know what just happened but it's… kinda hot."
Neko tilted his head. "…She terrifies me."
The rubble trembled.
BOOOOM!!!
Zan-Xi erupted from the debris, brushing dust off his shoulder casually.
His grin was no longer amused.
It was ecstatic.
"…So that's how it is. You get to eat my attack and get stronger, huh?"
"GOOD. THEN THIS—WILL BE—THE FINAL BLOW!"
He thrust his sword into the sky — holy fire spiraling upward in a pillar of light.
The wind howled. Clouds split apart. The heavens themselves seemed to tilt toward him.
Light condensed — forming a colossal javelin of divine radiance.
Shoto didn't wait.
He crouched low.
Black fire wrapped around his legs like coiled springs.
FWOOOOOSH!!!
He launched.
A living bullet of flame.
Zan-Xi's eyes widened—
THOOM!!!
—A fist slammed into his gut before he could throw the spear. His body bent forward—air blasted from his lungs.
Shoto's other hand flashed upward—
ZAMORAK SWORD — SUMMONED.
"X—Saber."
The gauntlets morphed — snapping back into dual blades. He slashed both in an X, point-blank against Zan-Xi's chest.
KAAAA-THOOOOOOM!!!
The explosion engulfed them both. Light and shadow collided in a cyclone that swallowed the courtyard whole.
Silence lingered.
Then—
The smoke parted.
Shoto stood barely upright, panting — reverting to his timid posture. The Zamorak Sword vanished. Only the pitch-black blade remained in his hand.
Opposite him, Zan-Xi lay bloodied, head hanging — unable to rise.
Shoto's voice came quiet. Fragile. Yet certain.
"I've told you… and Neko… I'm not a reincarnated king."
He looked at his trembling hands.
"But I do have resolve now."
His eyes closed.
"And it's to protect the ones close to me."
His knees buckled.
He began to fall—
Hikaru rushed forward, catching him by the shoulders.
Ryuji exhaled shakily. "Bro…"
Neko leapt onto Hikaru's shoulder, glaring at Zan-Xi.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Zan-Xi, still swaying, turned halfway — face unreadable through blood.
Then, without a word—
He walked away.
Four weeks had passed since the battles between Shoto's group and Zan-Xi's.
No explosions. No cratered courtyards. No god swords firing across the sky.
Just… morning sunlight.
Shoto stepped out of his front door, adjusting the strap of his school bag. His movements were slower now—not from weakness, but from quiet thoughtfulness. Behind him, perched on the doorframe like a sentry, Neko the cat blinked lazily before leaping onto his shoulder.
"I'm heading out, Aunt Mai!" he called back into the house.
The moment he pulled the door shut—
"Morning, Shoto!"
Yumiko stood on his porch with a grin so wide it could've powered the city grid.
Beside her, Hikaru stood with arms crossed… then raised two fingers in a stiff, doing a short wave.
Shoto blinked once.
Then smiled — small, calm, genuine.
"Let's go."
The three walked down the familiar street, autumn leaves scraping across the pavement as the wind passed through.
Yumiko swung her bag like a weapon of mass destruction. "Sooo—how's Endo doing? Still causing time-space violations every five minutes?"
Shoto kept his gaze straight ahead. "He's… fine. Calmed down with all that teleporting crap. Easier to keep track of him now."
Yumiko laughed. Hikaru stared at them silently like a chaperone who regretted his life choices.
As they turned onto the main road, more students began to join the flow toward the school. Voices filled the air — normal, mundane, peaceful.
Yumiko jogged ahead to catch up with some friends. "See you inside!"
Shoto raised a hand in a lazy wave.
That's when Hikaru stopped walking.
"Shoto."
Shoto halted and turned.
Hikaru's expression was serious — but not hostile.
"I'm saying this once. You and I are not friends."
Shoto stared.
"We're rivals. Just because I'm in your group doesn't mean I'll ever settle behind you. One day—"
He pointed a thumb at himself.
"—I'm going to surpass you."
Shoto looked down for a moment, considering.
"…Didn't look like it the past couple of weeks," he muttered dryly. "But… you can try."
He started walking again.
Then paused.
Without turning around, his voice came softer—yet firm.
"The Rune Gate… If I reach it, I can revive my sister."
Hikaru's eyes widened slightly.
"Protecting you guys and reaching that Gate. That's my resolve now."
Shoto continued forward.
Hikaru's lips tugged upward into a ghost of a smirk.
"Heh."
He fell back into step behind him.
The morning sun bathed the road ahead.
Arc 2 — End.