The mountain peaks stood beneath a sky that had grown unnaturally still. At the center of the highest summit, Arata Kurogane faced Kitakim. Neither man spoke at first.
Arata stood with one hand resting inside his pocket, his posture relaxed enough to suggest that he had wandered here to enjoy the scenery rather than participate in a battle that could determine the fate of an entire world. His black hair shifted gently in the wind, and his expression carried the familiar indifference of someone who had already decided that most things were not worth his attention.
Kitakim, however, was taking him seriously. He lowered his body into a fighting stance, bending his knees and keeping his weight balanced. His eyes never left Arata's face.
"He's arrogant." That much was obvious. But arrogance alone did not make a person dangerous. Plenty of powerful people were arrogant. Plenty of geniuses believed themselves untouchable.
Arata was different. "No one should underestimate the Soul Circuit. And a man like him is unpredictable. I don't know what he's thinking, what he's calculating, or what he might begin to imagine".
Kitakim's smile slowly widened.
That uncertainty was precisely what made Arata troublesome. Against an ordinary opponent, experience could reveal habits, instincts, and weaknesses. Against someone who could turn his understanding of reality into power, even a correct prediction could become meaningless the moment Arata imagined another possibility.
Still, Kitakim had not survived the brutal history of the First Circuit Being era by surrendering before an uncertain opponent. "But that doesn't mean I'll do nothing." His foot touched the ground. Once. The mountain beneath him cracked. In the next instant, Kitakim disappeared.
There was no visible movement between his original position and his destination. The distance separating the two men seemed to have been removed from existence. He appeared directly in front of Arata, his right leg already extended. His foot struck Arata squarely in the stomach. Arata did not move.
He had not raised his arms, shifted his body, or attempted to evade the attack. He had simply allowed Kitakim's kick to connect. For the briefest moment, the scene seemed almost ridiculous. One man stood casually with his hands in his pockets.
The other had delivered a full-force kick capable of shattering mountains and the target looked as though someone had tapped him on the shoulder. Then the force continued. It passed through Arata without disturbing him and erupted behind his body. The mountain range split apart.
A tremendous shockwave tore through the summit, ripping the surrounding peaks from their foundations. The force raced across the landscape, crossed the oceans, and continued around the planet with enough power to split the seas apart.
From the surface of Kael'Ar, the destructive wave surged into outer space.
Seven planets along its path were destroyed. The shockwave continued beyond them, leaving a trail of shattered celestial bodies and expanding debris before its force finally dissipated into the vastness of space.
On the rooftop overlooking the battlefield, the spectators fell silent. For several seconds, nobody seemed capable of finding the right words. Denma stood completely still, staring at the destruction spreading across the planet.
He had known Kitakim was powerful. He had heard enough about the First Circuit Beings to understand that their existence belonged to an age when ordinary standards of strength had little meaning.
But knowing something and witnessing it were entirely different experiences. "That was a single kick?"
His eyes followed the distant destruction. "The user of the Constellation Circuit did that without even using a named technique". Denma's hands slowly tightened. He wasn't frightened. Not exactly. He was in awe.
This was the kind of strength he had spent his life trying to approach. The kind of power that made the limits he had once accepted seem laughably small. "That's where I want to reach." His gaze hardened. "No. That's where I want to surpass."
He understood how distant that goal was. The difference between his current strength and the power displayed before him was almost impossible to measure but for the first time, the distance did not discourage him. It gave him something worth pursuing. Nearby, Tessandra's expression had become considerably more serious.
Her perception threads extended across the battlefield, tracing the shockwave's passage through the atmosphere and into the surrounding cosmos. She could follow the force through the spaces it had torn open, observing its consequences long after the original kick had landed.
She slowly narrowed her eyes. "So this is the power of a First Circuit Being". She had fought extraordinary opponents. She had witnessed techniques that could erase entire landscapes and abilities that challenged the laws of nature.
Yet Kitakim's attack had been almost casual. The destruction was not the result of some elaborate preparation. He had simply delivered a kick and the world had paid the price. A quiet chuckle came from Lord Zenith.
"Natural," he remarked. Kaelen turned toward him.
Zenith continued watching the distant battlefield, his expression carrying the faint amusement of someone remembering an unpleasantly familiar past. "This was normal during the First Circuit Being era." His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Constant warfare created that era. It was harsh and brutal. Strength wasn't simply something people cultivated to protect themselves. It was the difference between imposing your will on the world and having someone else's will imposed upon you."
He closed his eyes briefly. "You kids should have witnessed it."
Kaelen stared at him. Then he looked back toward the battlefield, where another shockwave was beginning to form. Are you sure you're the descendant of the Dragon God? He decided not to say that aloud. Some questions were better left unanswered.
Above the broken mountain range, Kitakim withdrew his right leg and moved backward.
The summit beneath them no longer resembled a mountain. Much of it had been pulverized, leaving only fragments of rock suspended above the fractured landscape.
Arata brushed the front of his shirt. There wasn't a single tear in the fabric. He glanced at Kitakim with mild interest. "I suppose you have to be capable of at least that much to be the user of the Constellation Circuit."
Kitakim's smile remained.
"Let me surprise you." He raised his right knee. "Winter Hexagon." The moment the words left his mouth, the space between them disappeared. Kitakim was beside Arata. Then behind him. Then to his left.
Six positions emerged around Arata in rapid succession, each one corresponding to a different angle of attack. Kitakim's right foot struck from six directions, the movements connected so seamlessly that they appeared to occur at once.
It wasn't merely a sequence of kicks.
He was manipulating the space between his movements, compressing and redirecting the distance so that each attack would reach its destination.
There was no ordinary path to evade.
The attack had already accounted for the space needed to escape. Six kicks, Six angles. One unavoidable conclusion. For the first time since the battle began, Arata looked slightly surprised. He raised his hands. The first kick struck his forearm. The second met his other hand.
He shifted his shoulder to intercept the third, turned his body to catch the fourth, and redirected the remaining two with precise movements that seemed almost too economical for the speed involved. He blocked all six. Kitakim returned to his original position. The exchange had lasted less than a fraction of a second. Then the planet broke.
Six enormous fractures appeared across Kael'Ar, spreading through the crust as the accumulated force of the kicks tore into the world's structure. The land separated into immense sections, and the oceans surged toward the newly formed chasms.
From the rooftop, the spectators watched as the world they stood upon began to come apart.
Even John, standing beside Zenith and Nullis, remained silent for a moment. Not because he was unable to understand what had happened but because he was watching Arata. The battle had finally become interesting. Arata straightened his posture.
His gaze followed Kitakim as the latter settled back into his stance. "Was that a challenge of the mind?" Kitakim's expression changed slightly. Arata smiled. He had recognized something in the technique.
The six points of attack had not been arbitrary. Their arrangement, the relationship between their positions, and the way Kitakim manipulated the distances connecting them all pointed toward a mathematical structure.
Space-Time,Geometry and the language of the stars.
Arata's smile widened. "The six vertices of a hexagon. Or perhaps a six-sided asterism—a pattern formed by six prominent stars in the night sky." He tilted his head. "An unofficial constellation, depending on which stars you choose to connect."
Kitakim stared at him. Then he laughed softly. "So you know about stars and constellations?" Arata didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked toward the heavens.
The stars had begun to reappear through the thinning clouds, scattered across the dark expanse above the ruined planet. Their positions were familiar in a way that had nothing to do with the knowledge this world's inhabitants had accumulated.
He knew the mathematics behind their apparent movement.
He understood the geometry of their arrangements, the physics that governed celestial bodies, and the countless scientific principles that had shaped the modern world he remembered. He had brought that knowledge with him when he reincarnated into this body. For a long time, he had treated it as an advantage. A collection of useful concepts.
A way to understand the world, manipulate its laws, and make the most of his circumstances. But now, as he looked at Kitakim's technique, something stirred within him.
The Constellation Circuit was not simply creating destructive force. It was expressing a particular understanding of the universe. Kitakim had turned an astronomical pattern into a martial technique, translated its geometry into movement, and used that movement to manipulate space.
He had taken an idea and made it real. Arata's eyes brightened. "Interesting". The thought came quietly, but its consequences were anything but small.
For years, he had used imagination to expand the possibilities of his Soul Circuit. He had treated concepts as tools, testing their limitations and developing ways to turn them into power. But Kitakim had just shown him something else.
A circuit did not merely produce an ability. It could embody an entire way of understanding existence and if that was true, then the possibilities were far greater than Arata had previously explored. The realization rekindled something in his mind.
Curiosity. Not the superficial interest he occasionally felt when encountering an unusual opponent, but the deep, insistent curiosity that had once driven him to study everything he could get his hands on.
The kind that made him want to understand why something worked, what principles governed it, and what would happen if those principles were pushed beyond their established limits.
Arata had almost forgotten that feeling. Now, it was returning.
And Kitakim, unaware of what he had awakened, watched as the young man before him began to smile.
Arata stepped forward. There was no ground beneath his foot, yet he walked through the air as naturally as someone crossing an empty room.
His left eye began to glow. Crimson light spread through the iris of the original Koketsu, and the surrounding space changed.
A massive circle manifested within Arata's perception, encompassing both combatants and extending across the battlefield. It was not an ordinary barrier. It did not prevent movement or restrain either man's power. It measured.
Every angle of Kitakim's body, every shift in his center of gravity, every change in the direction of his limbs became part of an immense calculation. The circle tracked the relationship between movement and position, mapping the possibilities that existed within the space they occupied.
A literal measurement of existence as it expressed itself through motion. The body's current position.
The angles it could reach. The movements it could perform. The possibilities that remained available at any given instant. Koketsu did not simply observe what Kitakim was doing. It analyzed what his body could do next.
The circle expanded slightly. For a moment, Arata's expression became almost scholarly. So that's what happens when I look at movement as a complete system rather than a series of individual actions.
He could see the relationships between Kitakim's movements. The mathematical structure underlying the transitions between one position and another. The subtle choices that transformed a simple kick into an attack capable of destroying planets.
The Constellation Circuit provided the framework. Koketsu revealed the geometry and Arata's mind began connecting the two.
Kitakim sensed the change. His smile faded into concentration.
Whatever Arata had activated, it was not a simple enhancement. The crimson circle surrounding them seemed to account for every movement he could make, and the longer he remained within its boundaries, the more exposed he felt.
It was as though his body had become a mathematical expression that another person was learning to solve. He decided to attack before that feeling could become anything worse.
Kitakim dashed forward. The distance collapsed but Arata was already moving.
He closed the gap so effortlessly that it seemed as though he had been standing beside Kitakim from the beginning. His right leg rose. A kick shot upward toward Kitakim's head. Kitakim reacted immediately, raising his left hand to block. Their limbs collided. The resulting force swept across the heavens.
Clouds vanished from the sky in a single instant, blown away by a shockwave that spread across the atmosphere. The pressure reached beyond the horizon, and for one extraordinary second, the darkness above Kael'Ar was replaced by daylight.
Then night returned but the stars were gone. The sky had been cleared so thoroughly that even the familiar points of light had disappeared from view.
Kitakim's eyes widened slightly. He had blocked Arata's kick.
Yet the force behind it had been sufficient to erase the clouds across an enormous portion of the planet and momentarily overwhelm the light of the heavens.
So he was holding back. Before Kitakim could complete the thought, he drove his right fist downward.
The strike aimed for Arata's head and upper body, carrying enough force to crush the space through which it traveled. Arata caught the fist in his open palm. The impact stopped there. No explosion followed. No shockwave tore across the landscape.
The force had been contained at the point of contact, as though Arata had calculated exactly how much of Kitakim's momentum to accept and how much to prevent from escaping.
His feet descended through the air. Then his right leg swept forward. The kick struck Kitakim and sent him flying backward.
For the first time, Kitakim was forced to yield ground without having deliberately chosen to reposition himself. He regained his balance in the air, his eyes fixed on Arata. The crimson circle remained visible within the latter's perception. Kitakim understood that the battle had changed.
Arata was no longer merely reacting to his techniques. He was beginning to understand them and for an opponent like Arata Kurogane, understanding was far more dangerous than raw power. Kitakim brought his right foot forward.
His expression settled into a serious calm, and the surrounding space began to respond to his presence. He had shown Arata the Winter Hexagon. Now he would show him another arrangement.
One that carried a different kind of force.
"Orion's Feet."
He moved his right foot in a circular motion. The movement was small. Almost insignificant.
Yet something within the surrounding space shifted, and the force released from his foot expanded along a circular path. Arata's eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms in front of his body. The attack struck.
His body was hurled backward with overwhelming force, tearing through the remains of the mountain range before leaving the atmosphere entirely. He crashed through one planet. Then another. Both celestial bodies broke apart under the impact, their fragments scattering into space but the attack did not end there.
The force continued outward in a circular motion, expanding through the surrounding cosmos. Nearby planets were caught within its path and destroyed as the immense wave passed through them, leaving behind a growing field of shattered celestial debris.
Back on Kael'Ar, the planet continued to fracture.
Entire sections of the world separated from one another as the accumulated forces of the battle tore through its structure. Oceans spilled into enormous fissures, continents broke apart, and the atmosphere trembled beneath the pressure of powers that had once been commonplace in the age of the First Circuit Beings.
And at the center of it all, Kitakim lowered his right foot. His gaze remained fixed on the distant darkness where Arata had disappeared. The Constellation Circuit pulsed around him.