Ren's House – Battle Intensifies
We see in Ren house.
The walls of Ren's home shook as more demons poured in, their claws scraping the wooden beams, teeth gnashing. But the three swordsmen in matching cloth moved like shadows—silent, precise, deadly.
A demon leapt from above, its claws arcing like lightning toward the first swordsman. He didn't flinch. Steel met claw with a sharp CLANG, sparks scattering across the floor. Before it could strike again, the second swordsman darted in, his blade slicing through the demon's arm in a clean, fluid motion. The demon twisted, attempted another strike—but coordinated strikes from all three brought it down swiftly.
Seven demons in total—ferocious, snarling, relentless—fell one by one. Blood sprayed, screams echoed, but none could stand against the swordsmen.
Ren's eyes were wide, shining. He pressed his face against his mother's arm, completely absorbed, utterly captivated. Nothing else existed in his gaze—no fear, no doubt—just awe.
A demon sprang from the wall, aiming directly at Ren, claws extended. One swordsman blocked it effortlessly, the other's blade flashed, cutting down the threat before it could even reach him.
Ren's voice trembled with excitement:
"Mom! Did you see that?! They killed all of them! They're heroes!"
The swordsmen exchanged glances, a rare flicker of a smile crossing their otherwise stoic faces.
"Ha. That's nothing, boy," the first swordsman said confidently. "We fear neither death nor blade."
Suddenly, the first swordsman gasped, clutching his hand. Blood welled between his fingers. "What… what is happening? It hurts… it hurts so much!"
The other two glanced at him, unfazed. One leaned closer, calm as stone.
"Come on… the battle has only just begun."
Ren's voice rang out, desperate and shining with hope:
"One day, I'll become like you! I'll protect people too!"
The second swordsman's lips curved into a gentle smile. He reached out, laying a hand on Ren's head.
"Yes, little master… one day, you will. You'll stand tall and cut down demons yourself."
"Stay inside. Don't come out," he added, his voice firm yet kind. Ren nodded, eyes still glowing as he watched the heroes move.
---
Outside – The Battlefield
The three swordsmen emerged from Ren's house, joining the larger army of identical-clad warriors. Outside, a storm of chaos raged. Villagers' swordsmen, terrified and inexperienced, were being swept aside by the demons. The professional swordsmen moved among them, shielding, coordinating, and cutting with absolute precision.
Daikawa's chest burned with pain from a deep strike. He fell to his knees, trembling, voice breaking:
"I… I have already lost my life. I'm not even capable of fighting anymore. But that… doesn't hurt me. The only thing that terrifies me is this—if my blade has fallen, then perhaps my family… my family's breathing may have stopped as well."
Tears streamed down his face.
"It's all over… the demons have ended everything. Why do they kill humans? A lifetime of struggle, of learning, of raising a family… destroyed in an instant by monsters. Why… why us?"
Suddenly, four demons lunged from all sides, claws aimed at him. Daikawa closed his eyes. This is the end.
But the end never came.
Six swordsmen suddenly appeared, pressing their swords together to form a gleaming wall of steel. The demons' claws collided against it, sparks flying. In a blur, the swordsmen unleashed a whirlwind of strikes, cutting The demons apart.
One of them knelt beside Daikawa, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You are not lost. You did the right thing. In this world, nothing is impossible. If you truly want to save someone, you will save them—as long as you never give up on yourself."
Daikawa opened his eyes, astonished. Around him, the battlefield was a blur of motion. Uniformed swordsmen sliced through demons with lethal elegance, while the villagers' swordsmen, inspired, fought back without hesitation.
Then he saw them—three swordsmen emerging from his house. His voice cracked, almost screaming:
"Ha! You three… from my home… my family!"
From a distance, they smiled, hands raised in a reassuring thumbs-up.
"Don't worry… everything is fine."
Daikawa's knees buckled, tears streaming freely. Relief, exhaustion, and gratitude collided in his chest.
"Thank… God… you saved us…"
And as the adrenaline faded, he collapsed, unconscious—but alive.
On the main battlefield
The rooftop of the ruined city trembled with a silent, ominous presence. Chaos Demon sat like a king, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight. His twisted grin widened as he watched his five strongest warriors,the high-class demons, descend like living torpedoes toward the two humans standing calmly on the cracked pavement below .Choas
Choas demon asked .
"These… my strongest demons—Rakuza, Dakar, Yukar, Takari, and Hanka. High-class warriors forged in blood, emotionless weapons of my chaos. They have cut down countless foes like you… ruthless, unstoppable… and tonight, they will show you why."
A low, chilling laugh rolled across the battlefield. "Haa… haaa…" The sound echoed, a haunting herald of the carnage yet to come.
"Go," Chaos Demon's voice rang, cruel and melodic. "Let us start the circus. Entertain me."
The five high-class demons surged forward, claws glinting in the dim light, teeth bared like sharpened knives. The air seemed to warp around them as they accelerated with unnatural speed.
Swordman A shifted slightly, his stance effortless but precise. Swordman B mirrored him, muscles relaxed, eyes narrowed, calculating. They didn't flinch. They didn't even breathe hard.
Rakuza was the first to strike. He lunged with a spinning slash of his claws aimed straight for Swordman A's chest. Swordman A moved, almost dancing, sidestepping with perfect grace, bringing his blade down in a lightning strike. CLANG! The blow met Rakuza's arm, slicing a deep groove but not slowing him.
Hanka, seeing an opening, leapt over Rakuza, claws extended like scythes. Swordman A barely had time to react—but B was already there. In a fluid, seamless motion, Swordman B caught Hanka's claw with his forearm, sparks flying as the strength of the strike reverberated through the ground. Before the demon could retract, Swordman B seized him by the neck and delivered a brutal knee strike to the stomach. Hanka arched backward through the air, hitting the ground with a bone-shattering CRUNCH.
Dakar and Yukar didn't wait. They lunged simultaneously from opposite sides, coordinating their strikes with deadly precision. Swordman A, shifting like water, spun through Dakar's swing, his blade slicing a shallow cut along the demon's forearm. Yukar's claws slashed downward, but B intercepted, pivoting smoothly to thrust his elbow into Yukar's shoulder, spinning him aside like a ragdoll.
Takari, the last of the five, hesitated for a fraction of a second—and that split second was all Swordman A needed. He dashed forward, each step obliterating the debris underfoot, and delivered a blinding flurry of strikes. SHIIING—CRUNCH—SHRAAAASH! Takari's head jerked violently with each clean strike, but he still managed to swing a claw at A, only to be deflected by B's wrist like metal against metal.
The air was a storm of movement, blades and claws colliding, the sound deafening and precise. Sparks flew as steel met demonic flesh. Swordman A struck, twisted, and disappeared in a blur, reappearing atop Rakuza's back. With a single clean motion, he drove his blade downward, splitting Rakuza's shoulder from neck to spine. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, yet Rakuza didn't fall—his fury only grew.
B didn't pause. He grabbed Hanka's arm, twisted, and slammed the demon into the ground. With a fluid kick, he shattered Hanka's knee, leaving him on one leg, screaming in rage but still alive.
The remaining demons—Dakar, Yukar, and Takari—advanced again, trying to flank them. Swordman A pivoted effortlessly, slicing Dakar's leg mid-stride, causing the demon to stumble. Yukar swung again, claws gleaming like scimitars, but B caught him in a lock, twisting his arm behind his back and tossing him aside with inhuman strength.
Takari lunged, claws extended in a vertical strike. A's blade met his claws in midair. The force of the collision reverberated through the street, shattering nearby debris. With a flick of his wrist, A disarmed Takari, sending one claw spinning into the distance. He then landed a series of rapid, fluid strikes to Takari's torso, leaving him staggered, bleeding, but still alive—his defiance unbroken.
The five high-class demons staggered but didn't retreat. Their coordination was terrifying. They tried to synchronize attacks—Rakuza spinning, Hanka lunging, Dakar leaping, Yukar weaving, and Takari striking diagonally. But Swordman A & B moved as one, anticipating, countering, striking. Every attack from the demons was met with a precise counter—every advance was met with calculated force.
Rakuza roared and slammed the ground, sending a shockwave that cracked the pavement beneath them. Swordman B stepped back slightly, letting the wave pass beneath him, then charged forward, seizing Rakuza's wrist and spinning him into Hanka, the collision sending both demons skidding across the battlefield.
Swordman A vanished, reappearing behind Dakar. One swing, clean, slicing from shoulder to hip. Dakar howled but stumbled forward into Yukar, who was still recovering. A's next strike met Yukar's shoulder—CRACK!—splintering bone and sending the demon flying backward.
The two swordsmen paused only a second to glance at each other. In perfect unison, they resumed. B intercepted Takari's next assault, catching the claw in a seamless parry, then used his momentum to slam Takari into a nearby wall, leaving a crater in the concrete.
A leapt high, spinning over the chaos. He landed behind Rakuza, driving a blade into his lower back with a clean, precise strike. Rakuza fell, screaming but alive, blood streaming in rivulets down his arm.
Hanka and Dakar staggered, Yukar and Takari battered, but the two swordsmen didn't relent. Every strike was a spectacle—fluid, precise, unstoppable. In moments, Rakuza's limbs were shredded, Hanka's body broken in multiple places, Dakar's back split across his spine, Yukar's arms shattered, and Takari's torso pierced repeatedly. The battlefield was drenched in blood, the five high-class demons writhing, broken, gasping, defeated.
Chaos Demon's grin widened as he watched from above.
"Interesting… very interesting," he purred. "So much skill… so much power… but still… I wonder… how long can you last?"
A and B didn't answer. They simply wiped the blood from their blades, standing tall amidst the ruin. Each movement radiated deadly confidence, fluid grace, and effortless mastery. Their presence alone made the chaos around them seem small, almost irrelevant.
Rakuza, Hanka, Dakar, Yukar, and Takari lay defeated but alive, crawling through their own blood, unable to move further, broken, humiliated. They had fought with all their strength, but the two humans had been a storm they could not weather.
A's green-gray eyes met B's black-gray gaze. No words. Only acknowledgment.
The moonlight reflected off their blades, red from the carnage, as the remaining demons watched silently, fear creeping into their instincts.
The battlefield was silent now, except for the heavy breathing of the defeated. Swordman A and B remained standing, motionless, statuesque, the apex predators of a city in ruin. The Chaos Demon above tilted his head, curiosity piqued, And his excitement grew even more on the battlefield.