Chapter 93: Explosion Is Art
The Valkyrie camp had just sent word: the combatant would be switched to Ashiya Dōman.
But—wait.
The divine faction also responded, stating that since the battle hadn't begun, they had no objection to the change.
With both sides in agreement, Heimdall certainly had no reason to protest.
Then let the battle commence.
"The final clash between gods and mortals—Round Three! It seems fate has woven this match with threads of destiny. Will the gods reclaim their honor? Or will humanity seize a third consecutive victory? Now then—begin!"
Heian Era
Here, Grey uncovered a truth that contradicted the historical records.
It was said that Dōman had lost to Abe no Seimei. But what she witnessed was the opposite.
Seimei had been defeated.
Why had Seimei opposed Dōman? Was it simply because they served different powers?
No. That wasn't the true reason.
The real cause was Dōman's assault on a fox spirit—an act that provoked Seimei's wrath.
But why would Seimei, a famed exorcist of demons, protect a fox spirit?
Was it a benevolent creature?
Not at all. Grey had seen firsthand the havoc it wrought upon the mortal realm.
The reason for Seimei's protection was far more personal: he was the son of that fox.
Unable to defeat Dōman, Seimei had borrowed the strength of the so-called Eight Million Gods. He even summoned the Seven Lucky Gods to descend.
Yet even they were no match for Dōman. They were toyed with, manipulated, and ultimately turned against one another in a frenzy of divine slaughter.
So was Dōman truly evil?
Was Seimei truly good?
From what Grey could see, Seimei was selfish. Dōman, on the other hand, was a chaotic force—neither good nor evil, but entirely his own.
One day, Seimei challenged Dōman again. If he lost, he vowed to surrender his status and the nation itself.
Dōman accepted.
No matter how wicked his past, Grey welcomed this enigmatic onmyōji to the battlefield.
His strength was undeniable. Hadn't he bound Sakata Kintoki with ease?
That alone proved his superiority.
Moreover, he had managed to control a Valkyrie's sister—though she was only half-divine, it was still a feat that spoke volumes.
What shocked Brunhilde most was Zerofuku's reaction: a visceral hatred, as if he longed to devour Dōman alive. Clearly, Zerofuku had suffered greatly at Dōman's hands in the past.
As Heimdall declared the start of the match, Zerofuku lunged forward, his massive axe cleaving Dōman in two.
Was it over in an instant?
No. The split body was merely a paper doll.
The real Dōman appeared above Zerofuku's head without warning.
"Bastard!"
Zerofuku swung upward, but again struck only paper.
"How unfortunate!"
"Indeed, most unfortunate."
Dōman's mocking voice echoed from every direction—because every direction was him.
"I'll tear you apart!"
Zerofuku swung wildly, shredding one paper clone after another.
"The more I fight, the more there are! And they're all fake! This is so unlucky!"
He looked like a child throwing a tantrum, sobbing and flailing.
Brunhilde frowned. Zerofuku's axe was growing larger, his strikes faster.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen.
"I see…"
New intel on Zerofuku: he grew stronger by absorbing misfortune.
Every missed strike, every failed attack—each was a dose of bad luck that fueled his power.
In moments, the arena was littered with shredded paper. Dōman's clones couldn't keep up.
Then Dōman snapped his fingers.
The paper fragments began to glow. The ground writhed, and dozens of chibi-like figures emerged—miniature versions of Dōman.
They charged at Zerofuku.
Naturally, he swung his axe.
"Boom!"
An explosion rocked the arena—not from the force of his strike, but from actual detonation.
Smoke and dust obscured his vision.
Then, through the haze, something grabbed him.
The little figures clung to him, grinning mischievously.
"Boom!"
"Boom! Boom-boom!"
"Are these… suicide bombs?!"
Heimdall swallowed hard. Two of the dolls clung to his own legs, wearing the same unsettling smiles.
Thankfully, they didn't explode.
But Zerofuku's location was engulfed in blasts.
Suddenly, Heimdall's eyes widened. He leapt back.
The remaining dolls swarmed Zerofuku.
"BOOM!"
The shockwave slammed Heimdall into the wall below the spectator stands.
Groaning, he rubbed his aching back and looked toward the blast zone.
Smoke billowed.
Then—whoosh!—a gust cleared the air, revealing Zerofuku in a massive crater.
His body was battered, but his aura was more terrifying than ever.
His weapon had transformed—now a fusion of over a dozen giant axes.
"So very unlucky!"
He shouted again, spinning his body in a full circle. The axe followed, slicing through everything.
In an instant, the arena lost a chunk of its structure.
Then came a slow clap.
Dōman descended lightly, landing atop Zerofuku's weapon.
He hadn't been hit once. From start to finish, he'd been toying with Zerofuku.
"If this is the extent of your misfortune… then I'm afraid this is where it ends."
As his words fell, the bright sky turned to night.
Chapter 94: Dōman's Diabolical Scheme
In the Akasha Realm.
Horist, second daughter of the thirteen Valkyries, stared at the live feed of Ragnarok's third round.
From the looks of it, humanity had the upper hand.
But Dōman's antics unsettled her.
If he had the power to finish Zerofuku, he should've done so immediately.
Instead, he kept provoking him—feeding the very misfortune that made Zerofuku stronger.
She feared the tide might turn.
Suddenly, the Akasha system pinged.
Horist's heart skipped. Grey had warned her: both times she'd traveled with Brunhilde, they'd been discovered by the kings of those eras—narrowly escaping disaster.
Even the encounter with Qin Shi Huang had left a mark, though Brunhilde hadn't spoken of it. Her sister Lantigris's reaction said enough.
Now, she worried for her youngest sister.
A flash of light—Grey appeared, landing awkwardly on her rear.
"Ow…"
"Welcome back, Grey."
"Ah? Yeah… I'm back."
Grey exhaled in relief. This time, she'd returned safely.
Rubbing her sore backside, she stood and dusted herself off.
"So, what's the current match status? Still Round Three? Or has it moved on?"
Heimdall's voice rang out. She looked up at the screen.
One side featured a childlike god wielding an absurdly large weapon.
The other—a man in onmyōji robes.
He looked familiar.
Too familiar.
"Eh? What's going on? Horist, isn't that Ashiya Dōman?!"
Grey was flustered. Why had Brunhilde sent such a wicked sorcerer?
Wasn't Sakata Kintoki supposed to fight?
Had the match changed?
"Wait, this is still Round Three, right?"
"Yes."
"Then why is that guy here? Shouldn't it be Kintoki?"
"He was replaced."
"What? Just like that? So casually?"
"Stop whining. If you want answers, ask Brunhilde."
"Ugh~!"
Grey shrank under her sister's sharp tone.
But the next moment, Horist softened, her lips parting gently…