The morning sun bled across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and crimson. Leaves rustled in the chilled breeze, but there was no warmth to be found. The air was sharp, tinged with the acrid scent of smoke and charred wood.
Shinkū Shigeru led his disciples through the wreckage of a village once vibrant with life. Now, it was nothing more than a desolate ruin, remnants of wooden houses splintered and scorched. Corpses lay scattered, their faces twisted in terror.
"It happened recently," Shinkū noted, his voice steady, emotionless. "The blood is still fresh. Whatever did this might still be nearby."
Hoshikawa Mei tightened her grip on her katana, her eyes hardening as she surveyed the destruction. "These attacks are happening more often," she murmured. "And closer to the Third Nation's borders."
"Doesn't matter where they come," Arkagi Gorou said, hefting his massive battle axe onto his shoulder. "We'll crush them all the same." His tone was light, but the tension in his posture was clear.
Kaito Murasaki was quieter than usual, his gaze darting from one corpse to another. His twin blades rested at his sides, fingers twitching nervously. "This feels... different," he said finally. "Stronger."
Shinkū's gaze was distant, his eyes narrowed as if searching for something beyond the physical world. His connection to the void granted him senses few could understand. "Whatever this creature is, it's not like the others. Be prepared."
They moved forward, weaving through the devastation. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint creak of debris shifting underfoot.
"Master," Mei said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if we're not strong enough?"
"Then you die," Shinkū replied without hesitation. "Strength comes from survival. If you cannot survive, you are not worthy of your power."
Mei flinched, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her katana. Gorou frowned but said nothing, his gaze shifting to Kaito, who looked equally unnerved.
Their march through the ruins continued until the ground itself trembled. Birds took flight from the nearby forest, their cries echoing through the air like shrieks of terror.
"Prepare yourselves," Shinkū commanded, his voice calm and sharp as a blade. "It's here."
From the dense trees emerged a towering beast, its form grotesque and monstrous. The Double Rank A Jūshin loomed over them, a creature of pure destruction. Its body was layered with muscle and twisted sinew, its arms like tree trunks ending in claws sharp enough to tear stone.
The creature's eyes were molten gold, burning with a primal hunger. Its maw opened to release a deafening roar that shook the earth.
"Oh, hell," Gorou muttered, his grip tightening on his axe. "That thing's bigger than the last one."
"Double Rank A," Kaito whispered, his eyes wide. "And from the looks of it... it regenerates."
Shinkū remained still, his eyes locked on the beast. "Mei, Gorou, Kaito. You know your roles. Attack."
Without hesitation, Mei lunged forward, her katana gleaming as she unleashed her Void Strike. The blade's edge shimmered with the faintest hint of nothingness, slicing cleanly through the air.
Her strike carved into the Jūshin's arm, but the wound closed almost instantly, flesh knitting itself back together.
"Damn," Mei cursed, leaping back before the beast's massive claw could tear her apart.
Gorou charged in next, his battle axe held high. His muscles tensed as he roared, swinging the weapon with all his might. "Abyss Cleaver!"
The impact was thunderous, the axe crashing into the Jūshin's leg. For a moment, the creature staggered, but then it recovered, unscathed.
Kaito darted around the Jūshin's blind spots, his speed a blur as he struck repeatedly with his twin blades. "Shadow Dance!" His attacks were swift, precise, but the creature's regeneration was relentless.
"It's no use," Kaito shouted. "Every cut just heals."
"You're too focused on damaging it," Shinkū replied, his voice as calm as ever. "The creature is built to endure. Find its core. Strike true."
"Core?" Mei echoed, her brow furrowing. "Where... where is it?"
"Find it yourself," Shinkū snapped. "Relying on my eyes will only make you weaker."
Frustration boiled within Mei. She darted forward again, her blade flashing as she cut deep into the creature's shoulder. Again, the wound healed before her eyes.
"This is pointless!" Mei cried. "We're not strong enough."
"Enough," Shinkū said, stepping forward at last. "You've had your chance."
He extended his hand, and a shimmering darkness coiled around his fingers. The air itself seemed to warp, the light bending away from him. Shinkū's eyes gleamed with a cold, merciless brilliance.
"Abysswalker."
A void-like aura enveloped him, a shroud of absolute emptiness. Shinkū moved forward, his steps soundless, his presence impossible to sense.
The Jūshin lunged, its massive arms sweeping down to crush him. But the strikes passed through his body as if he were mere mist.
"What..." Mei whispered, her eyes wide.
Gorou's mouth hung open. "He's... untouchable."
"No," Kaito corrected, his voice trembling. "He's become the void itself."
Shinkū flicked his wrist, and from his hand emerged strands of black—Void Strings, flexible and razor-sharp. They lashed out, slicing through the Jūshin's arms and legs with ease.
The creature roared in agony, its limbs severed. Yet even as it fell, its flesh began to regenerate.
Shinkū's eyes narrowed. "Futile."
He unleashed Abyssblust, the space around him distorting, freezing the Jūshin in place. With one final motion, he tore the creature's core from its chest—a pulsing, grotesque organ that throbbed with unnatural life.
The Jūshin's body collapsed, its regeneration halted. Silence fell over the ravaged landscape.
"Move," Shinkū ordered, turning away from the fallen beast. "There's more to do."
His disciples stared after him, their faces pale.
"We weren't even close to his level," Mei murmured, her fists clenched. "What's the point of all this training if we can't even..."
"Stop whining," Gorou grunted. "He's trying to make us stronger."
Kaito remained silent, but his expression was troubled.
Shinkū walked on, his mind already focused on the next threat. For him, there was no time for hesitation or doubt. Only progress. Only strength.