"It's forcibly keeping itself in this realm!" the butler shouted, his voice cracking with strain.
Yellow Maw and the Cowboy tightened their stance, watching the small girl with newfound caution.
"So, she's here for good, then?" the Cowboy asked, his finger hovering over the trigger.
The Spirit appeared as a small girl with hair as white as bone and a pale blue kimono. Orbs of sapphire flame spiraled around her like miniature suns. Her azure eyes were slit like a predator's, and she snarled, baring sharp, feral canines.
"No. As a Spirit, she needs an anchor to remain," the butler explained, suddenly throwing himself aside with a blast of wind. A massive fireball detonated exactly where he had been standing. He rolled and sprang back up. "By forcing her way into this realm, she has brought her true, vulnerable form with her!"
The girl unleashed a barrage of fireballs. The three men moved with veteran agility, weaving through the inferno. Yellow Maw saw an opening and lunged. As the Spirit conjured a cluster of fire spears to intercept him, three thunderous cracks echoed through the hall.
Bronze bullets slammed into her wrist, her abdomen, and her left eye.
She shrieked in pain, pivoting to hurl the spears at the Cowboy instead. The butler seized the moment, firing a pressurized wind spear. The Spirit spun, conjuring a shield of flame to absorb the impact, but the distraction was fatal.
In a blur of Hashi-enhanced speed, Yellow Maw appeared directly in front of her. "Supreme Weapon Art:Beast Cleaver!"
The green energy wave struck at point-blank range. As the Spirit reeled, she was peppered by four more bullets and another wind spear. Yellow Maw didn't let up.
"Supreme Weapon Art:Great Blade!" He brought the massive axe down in a decapitating arc.
The Spirit unleashed a desperate repelling blast of blue fire, catching the axe's edge just inches from her neck. The two were locked in a screaming deadlock of steel and flame.
"Keep attacking! She's fading!" the butler urged.
Normally, an Elemental Spirit of her grade would have incinerated them instantly. But on this cursed Outskirt Island, her power was suppressed. Against three battle-hardened veterans who killed for a living, even a spirit was finding herself outmatched.
A single tear rolled down the Spirit's cheek. She glanced over at Takahiro's broken body.
"Yeah, I'll end her now," the Cowboy said, leveling his revolver at her heart. "So long, bitch."
Bang.
The bullet spiraled through the air, a whistling streak of bronze. The Spirit closed her eyes and whispered a final plea: "I bought you enough time, child."
"AHHHHHH!!!!!"
A roar tore through the throne room—a sound so primal and raw it felt like the walls themselves were screaming. A wave of pure, suffocating pressure swept over the room, turning the men's faces ashen. It wasn't just power; it was a tide of Pure Dark Burning Wrath.
Every head snapped toward the crates.
Standing there was a figure that should have been dead. Kenji stood perfectly upright, his body a macabre tapestry of drying gore and fresh crimson. His face was a mask of blood, and his eyes—now slitted and glowing with a manic, demonic light—stared out from the shadows of his hair.
With a wave of blue fire, the Spirit blasted Yellow Maw back. Her form dispersed into mist and reappeared beside Takahiro, her hands glowing as she began a desperate healing rite.
"Hey... shouldn't that brat be dead?" the Cowboy asked, his voice wavering for the first time.
Before he could finish the thought, the crimson boy vanished. He didn't run; he simply ceased to be in one spot and appeared in another.
Kenji materialized in front of the Cowboy and drove a fist into his gut. The impact sounded like a cannon shot, launching the Cowboy across the hall and through a stone pillar.
The butler and Yellow Maw froze in shock. Kenji didn't give them a second to breathe. He spun mid-air and burst toward Yellow Maw like a heat-seeking missile.
Yellow Maw swung the flat of his axe to parry. When Kenji's fist collided with the cold steel, a deafening crack echoed as a fracture appeared in the axe's blade. The force sent the massive pirate skidding backward across the floor.
The butler, panting from exertion, downed a vial of blue liquid—a Hashi restorative—and unleashed a desperate barrage of wind spears. Kenji danced through them, darting side-to-side with predatory grace before leaping into the air.
Crack-crack-crack!
The Cowboy, having recovered, fired a volley that caught Kenji mid-flight. The boy's body went limp, falling toward the floor. The men exhaled, thinking it was over—until Kenji landed on his feet, completely unfazed. He vanished again.
Shit, he's too fast! the Cowboy thought, his instincts screaming. "Great Martial Art: Blink!"
The Cowboy flickered backward just as a devastating fist cratered the floor where he had stood. The ancient stone shattered into a web of cracks. There was a sickening snap from Kenji's own hand—the bones breaking from the sheer force of his own strike—but the boy didn't even flinch. He just kept coming.