Above the battlefield, the sky darkened unnaturally.
A canopy of black gases spread, blotting out both the rising sun and the eternal crimson moon. Shadows deepened, and the black fog that should have faded with the dawn remained thick and unmoving, allowing the undead to kneel in submission without vanishing.
A hushed tension filled the air.
Everyone—friend and foe alike—had their eyes locked on Kanoru.
Why did a Second Tier existence want him dead?
What could Kanoru have possibly done to attract such an enemy?
Why would a leader of the Greyrose Circus personally descend for this?
These three questions flashed through every mind that could still think amid the oppressive atmosphere.
Yet Kanoru himself had only one thought.
What should I do?
There was no escape. No running from a Second Tier being.
And even if he considered surrender, could he trust the Bone Clown to keep his word?
His mind raced through possibilities, calculating every move he could take.
But before he could settle on an answer, a voice echoed in his mind.
It was Cecily's voice, a spiritual transmission, cutting through the silence.
"Why does the Clown want you dead?"
Kanoru barely had time to formulate a reply before the Bone Clown's hollow voice rang out again, sharp and precise.
"This is between you and me."
The masked skeleton's gaze bore into Kanoru, unreadable yet filled with unmistakable intent.
"I do not want a third party involved in this matter."
Kanoru's fingers tightened around the hilts of his swords.
His eyes met the Clown's hollow sockets, and his voice remained calm, but edged with steel.
"How can I know I can trust you?"
A slow chuckle drifted from behind the cracked clown mask.
"I do not need you to trust me."
The Bone Clown's voice grew colder, the dark mist around him thickening.
"If you do not kill yourself, I will kill you. Then, I will slaughter every last one of your people.
And perhaps even if you do take your own life… I might still kill them anyway."
The words carried a cruel certainty, as if he were merely stating an unavoidable truth rather than issuing a threat.
Kanoru's eyes narrowed.
Then—
he smiled.
It wasn't a forced smile. It was genuine.
A slow, amused curve of his lips.
The Bone Clown's head tilted slightly, his hollow voice carrying a sliver of irritation.
"Why are you smiling? Have you gone mad?"
A pause.
"No matter. If you can die happily, that's even better."
Kanoru's smile widened as he spoke, his voice calm and unwavering.
"I will not die."
A wave of dark energy exploded outward as the Bone Clown's aura flared in anger.
"Then I will kill you myself!"
But Kanoru's expression didn't change.
He simply tilted his head slightly, his voice carrying quiet confidence.
"You cannot kill me."
The Bone Clown stilled.
For the first time, there was a flicker of hesitation in his presence.
Kanoru's words struck like a blade.
"Because you are not truly here."
"This is only your clone."
A heavy silence followed.
Then—
The Bone Clown's voice dropped, his tone unreadable.
"…How did you find out?"
Kanoru's mind worked quickly as he spoke, piecing together the facts.
He remembered—the Four Spirit Kings were personally locking onto the Bone Clown, ensuring he remained at the Golden Plain. That alone meant his true body could not leave.
Then, Kanoru recalled something else—
A Spirit King can transform their Noble Phantasm into a clone.
If a First-Tier Spirit King could do that, then a Second-Tier being—like the Bone Clown—could definitely form multiple clones.
And if a clone carried only 10% of a Spirit King's power, then this clone, belonging to a being one step above a Spirit King, could perhaps carry 20% or 30% of the original's power.
That meant the Bone Clown standing before him was no stronger than a Spirit Lord.
But the most important clue that confirmed Kanoru's suspicion—
The Clown's behavior.
A being as powerful as the Bone Clown would see Kanoru as nothing more than an ant—perhaps a slightly larger ant, but still an insignificant creature he could squash with ease.
Yet instead of immediately killing him, the Clown kept demanding that Kanoru take his own life.
Why?
It didn't make sense—unless the Clown was weaker than he wanted Kanoru to believe.
And most importantly—the promise that he would spare Kanoru's people was a lie.
How could the Clown be certain that Kanoru hadn't already shared the information about the blood sacrifice with someone else?
If the Bone Clown wanted absolute certainty, then the only logical action would be to kill everyone here—not just Kanoru.
Kanoru's eyes narrowed, his voice unwavering as he spoke.
"You were never planning to let anyone live."
A tense silence followed.
Then Kanoru took a step forward, his voice ringing clear and sharp.
"So I think it's only fair that everyone here knows the reason why they are about to die."
The moment those words left his mouth, the Bone Clown moved.
A black streak shot toward Kanoru as the Clown lunged, his skeletal fingers clawing through the air, leaving behind a trail of deathly mist.
At the same time—
"Kill everyone!" the Bone Clown commanded.
The battlefield erupted into chaos.
The massive crocodile and the woman with the whip charged at Cecily, trying to overwhelm her.
The undead horde below, who had been kneeling in submission, rose as one—but they were met by a volley of attacks from the defenders.
Kanoru didn't hesitate.
He dashed sideways, evading the Clown's claw strike, and at the same time, he shouted to everyone below—
"The Clown wants to kill me because he is holding a blood sacrifice for another leader of the Greyrose Circus to descend!"
And the battle for survival truly began.
The battlefield erupted in chaos.
As soon as the Bone Clown's command rang out, the undead horde surged forward like a dark tide, and the battle resumed in full force.
Kanoru barely dodged as a skeletal claw slashed through the air, missing him by inches but leaving behind a lingering black mist that corroded everything it touched. He leaped backward, his twin swords gleaming—one wreathed in flame, the other coated in frost—as he locked eyes with the Bone Clown's mask.
Kanoru attacked first. His left sword swung downward, a wave of fire roaring toward the Clown.
But the Clown only tilted his head, his skeletal fingers snapping.
The black mist around him thickened, swallowing the flames into a void of darkness.
Kanoru didn't hesitate. He twisted his wrist, his right sword flashing out, releasing a jagged spike of ice at the Clown's ribs.
The Bone Clown let out a dry chuckle. "Too slow."
His form flickered—as if his very presence warped reality—and the next moment, he was beside Kanoru, swinging a hand toward his throat.
Kanoru barely managed to twist his body, avoiding the fatal strike, but a cold pressure wrapped around his wrist.
The Bone Clown's grip was like iron.
Kanoru's eyes sharpened, and his body ignited in a fiery explosion, forcing the Clown to release him and leap back.
A split second of breathing room.
Kanoru landed, his feet sliding across the air, steadying himself. The Bone Clown was fast. Too fast. But in the short exchange, Kanoru felt something—
I can handle him.
This clone, even at 30% of the Clown's power, was still strong—but not unbeatable.
But then—
A deafening crash split the battlefield.
Kanoru's head snapped toward Cecily.
The massive golden serpent was locked in battle with both Spirit Lords—the Crocodile and the Whip-Woman.
And she was struggling.
The Crocodile lashed out with his tail, slamming against Cecily's side, his phantasm's dense, armored scales absorbing most of her counterattacks. His grey energy waves corroded everything they touched, forcing her to keep moving.
The Whip-Woman, meanwhile, was relentless.
Her crimson whip snapped out, carving glowing arcs through the sky, each strike tearing through Cecily's golden serpent form.
A brutal combination—
And neither of them were fighting to stay alive.
Kanoru realized it immediately.
They don't care if they die.
The two Spirit Lords were throwing themselves at Cecily with reckless abandon—they weren't even defending themselves properly, only attacking with everything they had.
Below, the camp was the same.
The undead fought without hesitation, pushing through attacks that would have crippled any living being.
This wasn't a battle about who was stronger—
It was a battle of endurance.
And Kanoru could already see it—
They were losing.
Even if he defeated the Bone Clown's clone, the camp would still be overrun.
Kanoru twisted his body midair, narrowly avoiding another grey energy beam that shot from the Bone Clown's fingertips.
The beam whistled past him, striking a tree far below.
Kanoru's sharp eyes caught the effect—the tree withered instantly, its bark cracking and crumbling as if centuries had passed in a mere second.
A time-decaying energy?
The Bone Clown had fired those beams at him multiple times, but Kanoru had always instinctively dodged, feeling a deep sense of danger from them.
Now, he finally understood why.
If that attack hit him directly, it wouldn't just injure him—it could rapidly age his body to the point of death.
Kanoru gritted his teeth, slashing out with a fiery sword arc that forced the Bone Clown back a step. But that was all—just a step.
This wasn't working.
Kanoru's thoughts raced as he fought, analyzing the battlefield.
Cecily was still holding her ground—but just barely.
She fought fiercely, her golden serpent form coiling through the sky, but the two Spirit Lords attacked relentlessly, with no care for their own lives.
Even if she managed to kill one, the other would keep going until she fell.
And below—
The camp was a bloodbath.
The undead horde surged forward, unrelenting, throwing themselves at the defenders like waves crashing against a crumbling shore.
Even if they eventually won, many people would die.
He needed to end this. Now.
But killing the Bone Clown's clone wouldn't be easy.
The clone was equal in strength to him, and in a short time, no result would come from this battle.
Then… what if he didn't fight?
A sudden idea struck him.
The Bone Clown had only come to silence him—to stop the news of the blood sacrifice from spreading.
Which meant—
If Kanoru escaped, the Clown would have no choice but to chase him.
Even the two Spirit Lords attacking Cecily might abandon the fight to pursue him.
And if that happened—
Cecily would be free to help the camp.
Not only that—if he led the Clown away, the black fog above would disperse, revealing the morning light and the crimson moon.
And when that happened—
The undead would be forced to retreat.
His mind was made up.
Kanoru dodged another attack—this time, a black energy sickle—and then, without hesitation, he spread his wings.
A golden wing and a blue wing unfurled from his back, shining brilliantly.
Then—
He shot toward Fairie City.