Masajo got up, Ku firmly gripped in his hand. His body was covered in blood, dirt, sweat. His lungs burned. But he was still standing.
Kroger, facing him, motionless, seemed barely to have broken a sweat.
"You're very tough, kid," said Kroger. "But can you explain to me why you only have hair on one side of your head?"
"You're not going to answer me, is that it… fine."
He moved.
Masajo blinked, and Kroger was already to his left. Then to his right. Then in front. Then behind.
"What the…"
Kroger slowed down, just enough for Masajo to see a dozen of his silhouettes dancing around him.
"This is one of my powers. Illusory Velocity."
Masajo spun around, frantic, searching for the real one.
"You think I'm there, but I'm not. It's the illusion of speed. I don't move fast enough to go from one point to another instantly. But my movements are designed to make you see attacks where there are none."
Masajo gritted his teeth.
A mirage. It's all a mirage.
All thirteen silhouettes of Kroger charged at once.
Masajo closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, tried to sense the real one, to perceive the Ether, the breath, the intent.
He struck.
His blade passed through a silhouette. Nothing. Illusion.
He ducked, avoided a blow he thought was real. Nothing.
He got up, heart pounding, desperately searching for a target.
And suddenly, nothing.
The thirteen silhouettes had disappeared.
Masajo looked up.
Kroger was falling from the sky, like a meteor, his foot aiming for Masajo's cheek.
BOOM.
Masajo ate the ground. Gravel in his mouth. Blood on his lips. He spat out a mixture of saliva and dust.
"You're… you're a fucking demon."
Kroger landed, got up, and looked at him.
"Get up. I'm not done."
——
They ran, hit each other, rolled on the ground, crashed through fences, smashed through railings.
The fight continued, savage, primal, in the ruins of an abandoned construction site. Piles of sand. Rusty cranes. Gutted containers.
Masajo tried everything. Disappearances. Feints. Quick attacks. Low blows.
Nothing worked.
Kroger was everywhere and nowhere. His illusions were driving him crazy. He struck at empty air, took invisible hits, fell, got up, fell again.
He was on the ground, face in the sand, at the end of his strength.
And yet, he was smiling.
Kroger, standing over him, saw it.
"Why are you smiling? You're about to die."
Masajo chuckled, a hoarse, tired, but genuine laugh.
"The legendary assassin… bullshit. You can't even fucking notice that I wounded you."
Kroger blinked.
Wounded?
He looked down.
A drop of blood fell to the ground.
Then another.
He brought his hand to his forehead.
Blood. Warm. Sticky.
He looked at himself in the reflection of his blade.
An X. Drawn on his forehead. Perfect. Clean. Masajo's signature.
Kroger gritted his teeth. A cold rage rose within him.
"…You're going to die. Slowly."
He raised his blade.
Masajo, on the ground, resigned, watched him.
At least… I managed to mark him.
Kroger was about to strike.
WHAM.
The ground exploded.
A monstrous impact split the asphalt between them, throwing debris in all directions.
When the dust settled, a silhouette stood there.
Long hair slicked back, gel perfect despite the early hour. A worn black leather jacket, marked by years of combat. A deep scar ran across his left cheek.
Cold eyes. A predatory smile.
Phantom.
One of the Three Emperors of Heaven.
Kroger stepped back, stunned.
"Phantom…"
Phantom slowly straightened up, brushed the dust off his jacket.
"Long time no see, Kroger."
Kroger gripped his blade.
"I thought I left you for dead in the rubble of your HQ."
Phantom smiled, a wide, dangerous smile.
"Ghosts don't die, Kroger. They just come back to slash those who buried them."
The wind rose, lifting the sand from the construction site.
Masajo, still on the ground, watched the scene, incredulous.
The Three Emperors… Phantom… in the flesh…
Kroger and Phantom faced each other.
The fight had just changed dimensions.
TO BE CONTINUED…