The Oozaru form multiplied his power level by ten times. He remembered that much from what felt like a past life of anime marathons and Dragon Ball arguments.
At his current power level, which was 7,000, that would put his great ape power level somewhere around 70,000.
Since, at 7k he was already beyond the Squire realm... multiplying his strength by ten times would probably be enough to fight Martial Seniors, right?
It's a good thing Bankei knew most, if not all Martial Artists in the Senior and Master realms. Well, at least the ones who were in the clan before he was imprisoned. According to him, the Oni Clan only had low-tier Martial Seniors. It was really fortunate that Bankei was insightful enough to teach Merun all of their descriptions and martial styles. Truly a dependable master!
He'd been running the numbers in his head for three days now, between healing sessions and sparring matches and lying awake on cold stone listening to the compound settle around him. The math worked. Barely. Enough low-tier Seniors occupied with protecting the city and the spectators that the numbers thinned considerably if he could keep them busy long enough.
That was the optimistic version.
The other version was that control wasn't guaranteed and it could all come to shit. It had never been tested again since his less-than-graceful landing here in Panama. The Great Ape wasn't a technique—it was a complete biological transformation, and the part of him that had spent months learning to move ki with surgical precision had absolutely no idea what happened to that precision when his body was twelve meters tall and running on instincts older than his brain.
Letting go was tempting. The appeal of just releasing the wheel and letting something wild and unrestrained take over. No decisions. No responsibility. It's like gambling.
But he thought about the innocent spectators in the stands. The prisoners walking beside him.
He thought about Tedate, Renji, Daisho and the others.
He wasn't going to let the great ape harm innocent people.
The tail was the other problem. Martial Seniors, even if they're just low-tier ones, weren't careless. One clean cut at his tail and it was over. Merun would be back, buck naked, probably unconscious, definitely finished.
The Great Ape's instincts were formidable but it wasn't enough to handle more than one Martial Senior. He needed to be present for that.
He had to hold the wheel.
Three days had gone differently than he expected.
The Shinken martial artists other than Tedate had started calling him 'Lord Merun' as well. He wasn't sure how it happened exactly... Maybe it was because of his strength? They listened better with the honorific so he never corrected it, which he was only semi-serious about.
They'd asked to spar with him. He'd said yes mostly because he was bored and because watching Tedate try to reconcile his martial identity with the existence of Merun was quietly entertaining. They were pure and honest with Martial Arts, they even let him practice healing on them after each session, which he appreciated more than he said out loud.
The guards still came though. Multiple times a day, rotating through the group, taking people for experimentation and returning them hours later. Fortunately, none came back in Renji's condition. Manageable wounds. Bad enough to practice on.
His ki 'healing' had improved considerably.
He'd also found the limit—or one of them. Too many wounds stabilized in quick succession and something in him just stopped working. Not the ki itself but the clarity behind it, the focused intent that made the difference between healing and burning. He'd fallen asleep mid-sentence twice and woken up on the cell floor with Daisho standing over him looking concerned.
Maybe he had run out of ki? A full night's sleep fixed it completely though.
He needed to ask Bankei about that. Among other things.
The Martial Senior guards finally entered the cell and started chaining the prisoners.
Merun had put the mask back on and let them chain his wrists alongside the others, and now he was shuffling forward in the middle of the group as the guards marched them down the corridor toward the gate.
The roar of the crowd reached them before the light did.
Then the gate opened and both hit at once—brightness and noise slamming in after days of torchlight and stone quiet. Merun blinked hard. Beside him he felt the group tense, feet slowing involuntarily against the sound.
He kept walking.
One by one they filed out onto the black stone floor. The arena opened above them, the night sky wide and cloud-covered, the crowd pressing against the rails on every tier. The noise was enormous and shapeless, prayer and screaming layered over each other until they became the same thing.
Then Merun saw him.
Standing at the center of the arena in a black dougi and the demon mask.
The old man's eyes found Merun immediately. Of course they did.
Around Merun the Shinken prisoners moved into position, heads down, shuffling, the picture of broken and defeated. Three days of planning made it look natural. Tedate had drilled them—not the fighting, they knew that, but the walking. The eyes. The slump of people who had stopped expecting anything good to happen.
Merun kept his ki pressed flat, tucked inward, invisible.
Bankei looked at him.
Merun smiled under the mask and tilted his head up slightly.
"It's showtime, old man," he whispered.
He felt the night air on his face. Heard the crowd. Felt the chains on his wrists and the stone under his feet and somewhere above all of it, obscured behind thick cloud cover, a full moon waiting...
Wait, thick clouds?
There was a variable he completely forgot to take into account—what if the moon was covered by thick dark clouds?
Shit.
He stared at the stands, particularly where Mangūsu was located. The man was smiling.
What should he do now?
He looked back at Bankei.
They'd only met each other for a short time, but he had grown to trust Bankei with his life. He would know what to do.
Right?
No chapter on Friday, it'll be on Monday! Have a great day!