Just as Kamiya Makoto was about to be completely consumed by this impulse...
The man standing in the center of the banquet hall made a new move.
He gently placed the champagne glass in his hand down, making a soft 'click' sound.
The sound wasn't loud, but it silenced the entire noisy banquet hall.
He didn't speak; he just looked at Yukino Shita Chizuru and, with his long, slender index finger, made an extremely subtle, yet irresistible, beckoning gesture.
Come here!
This gesture, elegant and arrogant, was another clear summons... In an instant, Yukino Shita Chizuru's body stiffened.
An indescribable tremor surged from the depths of her soul, instantly sweeping through her limbs.
That wasn't fear.
Instead, it was a kind of...ecstasy!...an ecstasy of being "designated" by a supreme power!
The source of the Demonic Blade within her body hummed with unprecedented intensity at this moment!
"Chizuru!"
Kamiya Makoto finally awoke from that overwhelming jealousy; he saw the gesture and the morbid expression on Chizuru's face, one he had never seen before, even... tinged with a slight flush.
He instinctively reached out, wanting to grab Chizuru's arm.
However, his hand had not yet touched the dark red dress hem.
Yukino Shita Chizuru suddenly turned her head.
Her eyes... were cold, indifferent, devoid of any emotion.
The warning and disgust contained within them were more intense than ever before; this gaze pierced deeply into Kamiya Makoto's soul.
"Don't touch me with your dirty hands."
Her voice was soft, yet it carried an unwavering determination.
Kamiya Makoto's outstretched hand froze stiffly in mid-air, as if instantly solidified.
He watched helplessly as Chizuru, without a single glance back at him, adjusted her skirt and then began to walk.
She ignored all the astonished gazes from those around her.
She ignored the so-called young talents who tried to strike up conversations with her.
In her eyes, there was only the man standing at the center of the whirlpool of power.
Kamiya Makoto stood dazed, feeling as if all the blood in his body was flowing backward.
He watched her back, moving through the crowd he could never join, step by step, towards the man who regarded him as an insect.
At this moment, he felt that what he had lost was not just a girl, nor a so-called Demonic Blade, or perhaps a weapon?
Instead, he had lost his entire world.
Yukino Shita Chizuru walked up to Lu Cheng.
She stopped, bowed slightly, performing an impeccable lady's curtsy, her proud head also dipping in acknowledgment.
"Mr. Lu Cheng."
A satisfied smile appeared on Lu Cheng's face.
He didn't respond, merely extended his right hand elegantly, making an inviting gesture.
A graceful waltz melody began to play at that very moment.
The lights in the entire banquet hall softened and became more ambiguous.
Yukino Shita Chizuru's heart skipped another beat; she gently placed her gloved, slender hand into that hand that seemed to control everything.
The next second, she was gently pulled by an irresistible force and embraced.
The two naturally entered the center of the dance floor.
Everyone's gaze was focused on them.
A perfect match, made in heaven.
In the eyes of others, this was such a pleasing sight; even Yukinoshita's grandfather, the head of this zaibatsu family, had a smile on his face.
However, for Kamiya Makoto, standing outside the dance floor, this was the deepest torture of hell.
He watched Lu Cheng's hand, naturally placed on Chizuru's slender, almost ungraspable waist.
He watched their bodies, intimately twirling and drawing close to the rhythm of the music.
He watched Chizuru's face, always slightly upturned, her normally cold eyes now reflecting the man's figure, shimmering with a hazy and fervent light he had never seen before.
They seemed to be natural dance partners.
Every step Lu Cheng took was dominant, powerful, yet incredibly elegant.
And Chizuru, that untamed Demonic Blade, perfectly matched his every move under his guidance.
Harmonious... to the point of heartbreak.
"Crack."
Kamiya Makoto seemed to hear something within his heart shatter completely.
The suit on him now felt like a branding iron, scorching every inch of his skin.
The whispers and envious glances of the surrounding guests transformed into the most vicious mockery, repeatedly flaying his dignity.
In the center of the dance floor.
Lu Cheng lowered his head, his lips almost touching Yukino Shita Chizuru's earlobe.
His voice carried a scorching, almost demonic quality that only she could hear.
"You dance well."
Yukino Shita Chizuru's body trembled slightly.
"My... Demonic Blade."
He knew?
He knew her true identity from the very beginning?
He wasn't dancing with a human woman; he was... "playing" with an awakened Demonic Blade!
Before she could recover from this immense shock...
An indescribable power, flowing from Lu Cheng's hand on her waist, forcefully invaded her body!
That power was domineering and grand!
It didn't destroy her body; instead, it directly descended upon her very essence!
The core of the Demonic Blade within her, "Muramasa," couldn't offer even the slightest resistance in the face of that power!
It could only emit the most primal, most instinctive... wail of submission!
At this moment, Yukino Shita Chizuru experienced a feeling she had never known before.
It wasn't the weak bloodline power of Kamiya Makoto.
It was a kind of... conquest... from a higher dimension!
Her body seemed to lose all strength, softly collapsing into Lu Cheng's embrace.
Her breathing became rapid and hot, the flush on her face already spreading to her fair neck.
Her eyes were covered with a misty haze, leaving only the purest... surrender and intoxication.
She felt as if she... was no longer her former self.
Instead, she was a divine artifact, held in the hand of a god, about to be used to sever the entire world!
This feeling of being completely "dominated" and "defined" brought her a supreme pleasure, more profound than any resonance of power!
The song ended.
Lu Cheng helped her steady herself, then released his hand, his expression returning to its usual nonchalance.
It was as if the resonance that had made her submit was, to him, merely a casual game.
He didn't even spare her another glance, turning to walk back to his original position, picking up his glass, and continuing to converse with others.
Leaving Yukino Shita Chizuru alone, lost and disoriented, standing in the center of the dance floor.
She raised her hand, gently stroking her still burning cheek, savoring the feeling of being conquered, her body still trembling slightly.
Kamiya Makoto couldn't help but move.
Like a zombie, he walked, step by step, through the crowd, until he stood before her.
"He..."
His throat was terribly dry, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible.
"Who exactly... is he?"
Yukino Shita Chizuru slowly, slowly raised her head.
She looked at the young man before her, his face filled with pain and despair, and her eyes, which had just been hazy, instantly reverted to an even more extreme coldness and cruelty than before.
With the recent comparison... she looked at him, a pitying and mocking curve on her lips.
"He?"
"He is the master who can define my sharpness."
"And you..."
Her gaze traveled from Kamiya Makoto's head downwards, finally resting on his knuckles, which were white from clenching his fists in tension.
"You don't even have the qualifications to be cut down by him."
Upon hearing this, the light in Kamiya Makoto's eyes completely extinguished.
In its place was a twisted darkness, bordering on madness.
Yukino Shita Chizuru was very pleased with his expression at this moment.
This was the result she wanted; she wanted to make Makoto-kun stronger in this way, to make the game more interesting.
Chizuru leaned closer to him, giving her final command in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Do you want me to look at you properly again?"
"Then go."
Her eyes gleamed with a morbid, expectant light.
"Go challenge him, go provoke him, go make him... acknowledge you!"
"This is your only value."