"Good timing! Jiehahaha~!"
Uvogin's roar shook the craggy cliffs of Meteor City as he stomped forward like a living tank. His blood boiled, muscles bulging with anticipation. There were no politics in his mind, no talk of money or power—just the thrill of battle.
All he ever wanted was a worthy opponent. A challenge.
And Roy—blind, silent, and sword in hand—was offering him exactly that.
Roy took a single step forward, and the earth itself seemed to pause. His sword, resting lazily at his side, suddenly lashed upward in a sweeping arc.
A gleaming crescent of force howled through the air.
"KENG!!"
Sparks exploded as Uvogin crossed his arms, the slash smashing against him like a falling comet. A searing hiss echoed—"Zzzhhhrrkk!"—as the Nen-laced edge ground against his reinforced forearms, sending vibrations into the stone beneath their feet.
"Get lost!!" Uvogin bellowed, planting his heel and driving the slash upward with raw brute force.
The attack deflected into the sky, cutting through drifting clouds with a sharp "puhhh!"
Nobunaga, arms folded and eyes half-lidded, let out a slow whistle.
"He's a blade guy."
He narrowed his eyes. Roy's grip was calm, but the moment he unsheathed his blade, the movement had been as smooth as a master calligrapher's final stroke. No hesitation. No drag.
His hands were calloused. His stance? Textbook-perfect.
"Old man!" Uvogin called without turning. "Back off! This one's mine. I can smell your itch to interfere from a mile away."
Nobunaga clicked his tongue. "Distracted in a fight? Do you even know how many heads you have?"
Swordsmen were rare. Good swordsmen rarer. And Nen users who could fuse blade and aura to lethal precision? Practically mythical.
Nobunaga was one of them.
And now… Roy was too.
Uvogin cracked his neck with a loud pop and grinned like a wolf, his teeth gleaming white against the crimson sunset.
"That tickled, but it's not enough."
He pounded his chest. "You'll need more than sparks to break me!"
Roy's lips curved in a faint smirk. "The first cut… was just to test the feel, idiot."
Then, his expression sharpened.
Suddenly, a dark ripple began to surge from his palm—fluid and alive, like oil catching fire.
"Armament—Haki."
The black force crept along his sword like liquid shadow, flowing from hilt to tip in a perfect, uninterrupted stream. As it spread, the blade seemed to hum—no, growl—with lethal intent.
The polished silver turned obsidian, engulfed by black flames that shimmered with barely contained fury.
It was no longer a sword.
It was execution made manifest.
Shizuku pushed up her glasses, her brow creasing. "Why… why is his sword black?"
Nobunaga stiffened, staring. "No… It's not the sword. It's him. He didn't just coat the blade—he poured Nen and will into it. He willed it black."
"Uvogin… don't catch this one."
For the first time, Uvogin's grin faltered. He didn't know what Haki was—but every muscle in his body screamed: DANGER.
His aura twisted, instinct sharpening. He didn't have time to think.
Roy moved.
BOOM.
The tile underfoot exploded. Dust and rock scattered in all directions as Roy lunged, his figure blurring into a streak of shadow.
"Tenghu-Style Sword Technique—Fang Piercer!"
He came in low—like a hunting beast, not a blind man.
Uvogin's eyes widened.
"Shit—!"
Too late.
The obsidian blade stabbed out, glowing faintly under the evening light, and carved a jagged slash across his thigh.
"KRRSHH!"
A chunk of meat ripped free with a sickening squelch. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, painting the ground in Roy's wake.
He skidded to a stop behind Uvogin, blade already flicking the blood free.
"Drip… drip…"
Each drop hit the tile with the weight of a bell toll. Death was coming.
"Consider that a down payment," Roy muttered, flicking his wrist. "Interest compounds fast."
Uvogin looked down.
A literal piece of his thigh was gone.
Still standing, he clenched his fists. The pain registered—but didn't matter. Instead, confusion flickered in his eyes.
"You—you're not supposed to be able to do that…"
He turned slowly.
"You're… a natural counter to me, aren't you?"
Shizuku's mouth fell open. Nobunaga's eyes narrowed.
Uvogin's words held weight—more than he realized.
"It's not just that your blade cut my flesh," he said. "It… cut through my Nen."
Enhancer-class Nen reinforced the body like armor. It made Uvogin a walking tank.
But Roy's blade hadn't just pierced skin. It had erased a chunk of his aura, carved through it, and taken its place.
That wasn't brute force.
That was domination.
And domination required a monstrous amount of "Qi."
Roy stood still, sword resting by his hip, the flames of his blackened blade flickering like embers waiting for a storm.
He tilted his head.
"Next cut… I won't miss."