"Just as expected… so that's your gamble, huh?"
Ren Kuroda's voice was low, almost amused, as the blue holy spear—Purification Javelin—hurtled straight toward his face.
A direct hit.
At this distance, at this speed, there was no room to dodge.
And yet—
Crack.
His left hand shot up.
Barehanded.
And caught it.
The instant his palm closed around the radiant spear, the surrounding air screamed as holy energy tried to tear his arm apart from the inside out. The light flickered violently, as if rejecting his demonic body on a fundamental level.
For a normal half-demon—or even a high-tier yokai—that attack would have been fatal.
But Ren didn't even flinch.
The veins along his arm pulsed, his clawed fingers tightening as if he were crushing something trivial.
"—This level isn't enough."
BOOM!
With a single squeeze, the holy spear shattered into fragments of light, scattering like broken glass across the storm-ravaged battlefield.
Shalltear—no, Shizuku Akabane, as she would have been called in a modern urban setting—froze for the briefest instant.
Her gamble…
Had failed.
"Impossible…!"
For the first time since the battle began, genuine shock surfaced in her crimson eyes.
That attack had been one of her limited-use special abilities—something even high-tier entities would hesitate to take head-on.
And yet Ren had—
Caught it.
Crushed it.
Like it was nothing.
"You're hesitating."
Ren's voice cut through the roaring winds.
He stepped forward.
One step—
And the ground beneath him collapsed.
His presence alone distorted the air, the pressure of his demonic aura forcing the surrounding sandstorm to split apart, forming a vacuum around him.
"You've already realized it, haven't you?"
His crimson eyes locked onto her.
"This isn't a fight you can win."
"—!"
Shizuku's body reacted before her mind could.
High-Tier Teleportation.
Her figure dissolved into a swarm of bats, vanishing from Ren's immediate range—
—and reappearing hundreds of meters away.
But—
"Too slow."
A voice.
Right behind her.
SLASH!
A crescent arc of wind tore through the air.
Shizuku barely managed to twist her body, the blade grazing past her side—but even that was enough to send her crashing across the desert, her armor screeching under the force.
She tumbled, rolled, and finally skidded to a halt, carving a deep trench into the ground.
HP—dropping.
Rapidly.
"…So fast…"
Her breathing was uneven now.
Not from exhaustion—
But from fear.
Even with her Valkyrie Form: Blood Mode, even with her enhanced resistances, even with her combat instincts—
She couldn't keep up.
Not with his speed.
Not with his precision.
Back in Nazarick, the Guardians watching through the projection had already fallen silent.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Because the outcome…
Was becoming painfully obvious.
"This… this isn't even a battle anymore…" muttered Shinya Kurobane (formerly Demiurge), his glasses reflecting the scene.
Albedo—now reimagined as Ayame Shirosaki—tightened her grip on her arm, her expression tense.
"…She can't land a single effective hit."
Even Cocytus—Takegami—who had predicted a one-sided result—
Had not expected it to be this overwhelming.
On the battlefield—
Ren slowly lowered his blade.
Not out of mercy.
But because he no longer needed to rush.
"This is the difference," he said calmly, his voice carrying across the ruined landscape.
"Between relying on abilities…"
"And mastering them."
Shizuku clenched her teeth.
Her HP was dropping.
Her special skill charges—nearly depleted.
Her strongest advantage—neutralized.
And yet—
A faint, almost delirious smile spread across her lips.
"…How wonderful…"
Her voice trembled—not with despair, but something dangerously close to ecstasy.
"To be cornered by you like this… Ren-sama…"
Even now—
Even in defeat—
Her warped devotion hadn't faded.
"…You're really hopeless," Ren muttered under his breath.
Then—
He moved again.
This time—
There was no hesitation.
No testing.
No restraint.
The ground exploded beneath his feet as his figure vanished—
—and in the next instant—
He was already in front of her.
"Let's end this."
His blade rose.
The wind gathered.
Power condensed—
Not wild.
Not chaotic.
But perfectly controlled.
Shizuku raised her weapon in a final attempt to defend—
But she already knew.
This strike—
She couldn't stop it.
"Fūrin Kazan Style — As Swift as Wind: Execution."
The world went silent.
A single flash.
A single line.
And then—
Darkness.
Her body froze.
A thin line appeared across her form—
Before splitting cleanly apart.
HP: Zero.
As her consciousness faded, the last thing she saw—
Was Ren standing there, unmoving, his blade already lowered.
And somewhere deep within her fading mind—
A single thought echoed.
As expected…
Ren-sama… is truly… unbeatable…