"Hup...! Haa!"
"Agh!?"
Kurotobari caught a rising slash directly in the chest. He groaned as pain flared through him, black feathers scattering into the air like soot.
His consciousness wavered under the relentless follow-up, struck before he could even recover from the damage of the previous blow. Yet, driven by a fanatical obsession with his brand of justice, he forced himself forward and swung a heavy fist at Ryuga.
To prove his justice was absolute, he had to slaughter the evil standing before him. But the strike meant to end the fight caught nothing but empty air. Ryuga wasn't there.
Kurotobari threw a second and then a third punch, desperately trying to strike his opponent down, but every effort was fruitlessly evaded.
"Fu... haaaah!"
"Guaaaah!?"
Ryuga was completely toying with him. He slipped past Kurotobari’s desperate assault and delivered a sweeping blow to the man's torso as they crossed paths.
As Kurotobari’s screams echoed and more black feathers—not blood—shed from his wounds, Raiha watched from the sidelines. A sense of dread, almost like fear, gripped her as she witnessed Ryuga’s overwhelming prowess.
(The rapid successions of the Wind Style, the devastating force of the Thunder Style, and the fluid, unpredictable movements of the Rain Style... he is maximizing the potential of every form within the Storm Dragon Swordsmanship. This is the power he has forged.)
She had seen Ryuga’s combat once before when the Gigantes went on its rampage. However, witnessing his technique in such detail from this close made her realize just how extraordinary his skill truly was.
Normally, a practitioner would be recognized as a master of the Storm Dragon Swordsmanship just by mastering one of its three styles. Ryuga had not only mastered all three but had reached a level where he could draw out their individual strengths and weave them together seamlessly. His ability was, quite literally, in a different league.
The truly frightening part was his age. Ryuga was not yet twenty. While there might be other swordsmen in Yamato who could match his strength, they were likely men with twice his years and experience.
The title of "Strongest Swordsman" was no mere boast. Looking at his current ability and his vast potential for growth, Raiha realized the moniker was well-earned.
At the same time, an unspeakable ache tightened in her chest as she wondered what kind of life had forced Ryuga to acquire such power. Meanwhile, the cornered Kurotobari let out a groan thick with humiliation.
"I am justice...! I am the one who must destroy all evil! There is no way... no way I can lose!"
"Do you truly believe that?" Ryuga asked quietly. "Is there no doubt left in those words?"
"Of course not! I am—!"
"Then tell me—can you look your late wife and daughter in the eye? Can you stand before those you loved and show them what you’ve become? This monster who has surrendered to the Demonic Way?"
"Check...!"
For the first time, Kurotobari wavered. In that fleeting second, the mask of the "Executor of Justice" cracked, revealing the raw, human emotions of the man named Garando.
He had branded anyone who committed a crime or challenged his ideology as "evil." He had mercilessly taken lives and incited a populist madness, all in the name of a hollow justice. As he contemplated how far he had fallen, Garando gritted his teeth in agony.
"It’s... too late for that now!"
Looking back at himself not as Kurotobari, but as the man who had once loved his family, Garando recognized his sins even as he refused to admit them. His family was gone. If his wife and daughter were still alive, he never would have become this creature.
That was why Ryuga’s question was meaningless. Even if it held weight, he had already reached the point of no return. Just before the "Executor of Justice" could reclaim his mind, Garando screamed, hurling his desperation at his opponent.
"I have no intention of going back! I will continue to take my revenge on the evil that stole my loved ones! That is my justice!"
"...I see. I understand that feeling painfully well. But that’s exactly why I have to cut you down."
Ryuga understood the agony of loss and the crushing weight of hatred toward those who took what was precious. He could even sympathize with Garando’s descent into madness.
However, that was precisely why he couldn't let it continue. Seeing Garando was like looking at a dark reflection of his own potential future.
Ryuga gripped his katana. Long before Kurotobari entered his reach, he executed an upward swinging motion, then charged straight at his foe.
For a heartbeat, Kurotobari didn't understand. He saw the boy rushing him and prepared to double his own momentum to meet the charge, but in that instant, his body was suddenly hoisted into the air without warning.
"What...!?"
A surge of water erupted from beneath his feet, launching him skyward. Seeing the geyser spouting from the ground, Kurotobari realized that Ryuga’s earlier "missed" swing had been the setup for this very moment. A cold sense of crisis washed over him.
Suspended in mid-air, he could neither defend nor evade. As he gasped, staring down at Ryuga rushing toward him with his blade leveled, a brilliant blue flash of steel seared his vision.
"A-gh...!?"
An overhead strike, delivered with the weight of heaven, cleaved through him while he was trapped by the water.
He felt the blade pass through his body. As the sharp sting of pain finally caught up to his senses, Ryuga quietly raised his head.
He regulated his breathing, eased out of his finishing stance, and slid his blade back into its sheath.
The sharp click of the guard meeting the scabbard rang out. Instantly, a vertical line of force erupted through Kurotobari’s body, and the geyser that had held him aloft was sliced clean in two.
"Gah... huff..."
Garando, returned to his human form, collapsed. He slumped onto the earth in a hollowed-out kneel, his head hanging low as the water that had erupted from the ground began to fall back down like a gentle rain.
"Your hatred and your past... those aren't things that can be simply cut away," Ryuga said.
He spoke while the rain washed away his anger toward the man who had manipulated the hearts of the people and lured them down a path of vengeance. Gazing down at the pathetic avenger who had lost his battle in every sense of the word, Ryuga whispered into the downpour.
"But I pray that at the very least, your obsession with that justice washes away and vanishes along with this rain."