The Fire Shōin spirit transported Renjiro and his friends to the Fire training ground, a place where they could practice their abilities and boost them.
The training ground itself was a pocket dimension created a thousand years ago by the Fire Shōin God for his students to evolve their fire marks.
The ground was overflowing with Shinketsu, a pure energy that could help students strengthen their inner force and evolve faster.
For Renjiro, everything felt different. He thought his body was being crushed by the weight of the Shinketsu, while his friends didn't seem to notice a thing. That was because Renjiro's Shōin was far too weak for him to withstand the overwhelming pressure.
That was the sign that lit a spark in his eyes. He wanted—no, needed—to evolve faster.
The training itself sounded simple: Fire troops would be summoned by the great spirit who towered at the back of the ground. These troops were slow and didn't shoot fire blasts often. But when they did, even one shot could incinerate you instantly.
It wasn't so simple after all.
This training was meant to sharpen speed—forcing students to move quicker and quicker, until they eventually reached supersonic levels.
The three of them walked to the start button, pressed it, and the training began.
The spirit dropped the fire troops one by one.
The first was slain by Ren.
The second fell to Kenji.
The third was still alive, marching forward.
Renjiro braced himself, but he struggled to summon his mark. His fists flailed wildly, thrown in desperation, but none connected with enough strength to matter.
The troop opened its mouth—fire building inside its throat.
Renjiro froze, flabbergasted.
The fireball launched.
It tore through the air like a comet. Renjiro's body screamed at him to move, but his legs felt heavy, like the Shinketsu pressure had chained him to the ground.
"I can't dodge it…"
The blast roared closer.
But then—
His mark appeared. Shiny, glowing metal stripes surged across his forearm.
His Metal Shōin had awakened.
Renjiro's eyes widened. Instinct took over. He imagined a shield—he gambled on it, with no clue if it would work.
And it did.
The shield spawned instantly, metallic plates locking into place in front of him. The fireball slammed into it with a thunderous crack, heat spilling across the training ground. When the smoke cleared, Renjiro was still standing.
The shield had held.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest. The fear of death twisted into raw courage.
Renjiro roared, summoning blades of metal—giant katanas that shimmered with his energy. He hurled them at the fire troops, each strike hitting with precision. Troops fell one after another, cut down before they could fire again.
At last, the battlefield grew silent.
The training was over.
Renjiro: 11 troops.
Kenji: 6 troops.
Ren: 8 troops.
Renjiro had surpassed them both.
The Gift
From the ashes of the troops came their reward. Not a weapon, not an item—something greater.
A gift of Shinketsu.
The three absorbed it, and in an instant, their bodies felt lighter, sharper, faster.
They had gained a speed boost.
Supersonic+. At this level, they could move at nearly 3,889 km/h. Overwhelming speed that could evolve even further, one day up to FTL++.
But for now, they were far from that. It would take countless hours of training to ever reach that level.
Still, it was enough for now. Renjiro and his friends had grown stronger.
The Shōin Tournament had strict laws and requirements:
Speed: At least High Supersonic, a level above Supersonic+.
Power: At least superhuman.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And now, with only five days left until the tournament, they had crossed one requirement.
But Renjiro wasn't satisfied. He knew the truth—his Shōin activation had been a miracle. The Shinketsu inside him refused to let him die and, as a last resort, had forced his mark to awaken.
That wasn't enough.
If he wanted to survive the tournament, he needed to summon it on command.
For that, he needed meditation.
The next day, Renjiro traveled alone to the Wind Shrine—a place of quiet and clarity, where the mind reigned supreme.
Since ancient times, before Shōin marks spread across the world, each element had carried its own philosophy:
Fire users: Aggression, their strikes always landing with force.
Water users: Calm and precise, every move deliberate.
Earth users: Reserved, striking rarely—but with devastating certainty.
Wind users: Fighters of the mind. Limited in raw ability, they mastered control through thought and focus.
The Wind Goddess herself once said:
"A Wind Mark is not guided by muscle, but by mind.
The body only follows the current, yet thought bends the breeze.
Calm thought sharpens it to a blade; scattered thought leaves it adrift."
Since then, all Wind Shōin had trained their minds before their fists.
Renjiro arrived at the shrine—a massive temple crowned with the Wind Shōin crest at its gates.
"Wow… it looks amazing," he whispered. "I wonder how long I'll have to stay here."
Meditation was the hardest practice in the world, especially for Shōin activation. The Shinketsu within a user often resisted, striking back like a defensive instinct.
Renjiro entered the shrine.
And there she stood—the Wind Goddess, Kazehime. A divine woman, with long blue hair flowing like a river, her white robe fluttering in a breeze that wasn't there.
Renjiro approached and bowed.
"Goddess of the Wind," he said, "how can I summon my mark on command?"
Kazehime's voice was calm, yet carried the weight of truth.
"With a strong mind and self-control. Learn these two things, and you will master your Shōin."
She tilted her head, her sharp eyes studying him.
"You are a Metal Shōin user, aren't you?"
"Yes… why?" Renjiro asked.
"Then you must visit Kyokage—the Fear God. He can help you best."
Renjiro's thoughts stirred. Can't I just visit the Metal God instead?
Kazehime's eyes narrowed. She had heard his thought.
"You should know why," she said. "There is no Metal God anymore."
"Huh? What do you mean? Then how do I have his mark?"
Kazehime's voice grew heavy, as if speaking from a wound in history itself.
"A thousand years ago, the Metal God—Tetsukami—and his brother Kyokage fought. A brutal war between gods. It was a fight for honor. Tetsukami saw the strength within his brother and chose not to resist. He let Kyokage win. The Fear God struck him with the Mugen Hōkō—the Endless Beam of Fear. It pierced his body, reduced him to nothing but ashes. Since then, there has been no Metal God. Because no one has been worthy to take his place."
Renjiro staggered back, his chest tightening. His thoughts swirled. The Metal God… gone? Killed by his own brother?
He clenched his fists. For the first time, he felt the weight of the mark burning on his forearm.
Kazehime's gaze softened.
"That is why you must seek Kyokage. Only he can teach you the path forward."
Renjiro's voice was quiet, but firm.
"…I will."
A new fire ignited inside him. Not just to master his Shōin. Not just to win the tournament.
But to rise high enough… to become the new Metal God.