Without wasting a moment, the golden staff woman stepped forward and swung her weapon in a deadly arc, the golden shimmer trailing behind like a comet. But before the strike could land—
CLANG!
Yuki blocked it—not with the edge of her sword, but with the blunt, flat side of the blade. Sparks flew from the impact.
She didn't stop there.
Using the sheer force of the clash, Yuki twisted her body and spun like a whirlwind.
FWSSH!
In an instant, her sword was at the golden staff woman's neck—its icy blade whispering death.
But—
TZZZZT!
The blade halted mid-strike.
A thin layer of golden dust, now hardened like armor, had formed just in time—an automatic defense triggered at the last second. It stopped the blade from slicing clean through.
But not all of it.
CRACK!
The force of the impact was so immense, it blew both women backward—dust kicking up around their feet as they slid across the rocky ground, boots grinding against stone. They managed to stay on their feet, barely.
Yuki's eyes remained cold, focused.
Across from her, the golden staff woman raised her hand to her neck—calm at first.
Then she saw it.
Blood.
A thin streak of red smeared across her fingertips.
Her eyes widened slightly, brows furrowing in disbelief.
She was sure the armor had blocked it. She had felt the dust catch the blade, had felt the energy dispersion—
And yet…
Her neck had still been cut.
Not deeply. But enough to bleed.
Enough to send a message.
That if she had been even a fraction of a second slower—
Her head would've already hit the ground.
The cold air around them thickened.
Yuki stood still, sword low, her black blade gleaming with frost and blood. Her breathing was quiet, but the chill in the air was unmistakable.
"You're fast," the golden staff woman muttered, smirking despite the blood. "And sharp."
Yuki didn't reply. Her eyes did the talking now—piercing, silent, and merciless.
Yuki suddenly burst into motion, darting into the trees surrounding the clearing.
She ran fast—silent as wind, her footsteps barely making a sound on the forest floor. Her movement wasn't random; she was circling.
Around the golden staff woman.
Round and round, her presence weaving through the trees like a ghost.
The golden staff woman watched with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing now? Playing games?" she scoffed, a smirk tugging at her lips.
But before she could finish her thought—
FWSSH!
She vanished in a golden shimmer—appearing instantly where Yuki had just paused.
She didn't hesitate.
SHHHK!!
With a single swing, she slashed her golden dust-covered staff, now shaped into a razor-edged blade. The weapon cut clean through Yuki's body—
Or so it seemed.
SLASH!
Yuki split in two, her body flickering—
But then—
FSSHH…
It vanished.
Nothing spilled. No blood. No resistance.
Just air.
A shimmering mirage faded where the illusion had been.
The golden staff woman's eyes widened—but before she could react—
THWACK!!
"Ghh—!!"
A heavy strike landed clean at the back of her neck.
Her body jerked forward, and she crashed onto the ground with a dull thud, dust rising around her. The world tilted as her vision swam.
Behind her, Yuki stood with her sword still lowered—the flat side of the blade having delivered the blow.
The golden staff woman groaned, her limbs going numb as her body refused to move.
She realized too late what had happened.
Yuki hadn't just been running.
She had been lowering the temperature in a circular radius, step by step. Each pass chilled the air more, subtly manipulating the moisture, the atmosphere.
Creating a trap.
An invisible ring of freezing fog and altered airflow.
Enough to make an illusion—an afterimage of herself. Not a visual clone made of energy, but a bending of perception itself. The moment the golden staff woman relied on speed to attack the fake, her senses were tricked. She reacted to a ghost.
And Yuki had been right behind her the whole time.
"…Fucking monster," the golden staff woman whispered with a bitter smirk—just before her eyes rolled back and she passed out.
Yuki remained still for a second, then exhaled.
She moved over calmly, grabbed both of the woman's wrists, and pulled something from the sheath across her lower back—two short metallic sticks, each about a foot long.
She tapped them together once—click.
Then placed them against the woman's wrists.
SHRRRKT.
The sticks unfolded and twisted on their own, wrapping around the woman's arms like living metal—forming tight restraints. The gold-dust manipulator was now cuffed and unconscious.
Yuki dragged herself to a nearby tree and finally let herself rest against its trunk. She sat down, breathing heavily, eyes drifting toward her stomach.
Her wounds were still there.
Not healed.
Just frozen shut—ice sealing the deep gashes like stitches. But she could still feel them. Sharp. Burning.
She didn't care.
She stared up at the sky through the gaps in the leaves, her sword resting across her lap. Frost quietly crept across the ground beneath her, thin tendrils of ice blooming outward like silent flowers.
With a wince, Yuki pulled out her phone. The lock screen lit up—an old photo of Shun and Kaizen, smiling side by side. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment.
Then she unlocked it and made a call.
"Send some Evolvers and medics to Izu Ōshima," she said flatly.
No names. No details. Just a command.
She ended the call without waiting for a response.
Then—
RUMBLE.
The ground trembled beneath her.
Yuki's eyes flicked upward.
She turned her head slowly—back in the direction of the earlier battlefield.
"…So they're still fighting," she whispered, voice barely audible.
And then, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree, ignoring it.
---
On the other side the land was wrecked beyond recognition.
What used to be a thick forest had been reduced to ruin. Trees were shredded, their trunks snapped like twigs and scattered across the ground. Jagged cracks split the earth, some wide enough to swallow a truck. Smoke curled from patches where the ground had scorched black—still warm, still hissing. Even the nearby cliffs looked torn apart, huge chunks missing as if ripped away by some colossal force.
And at the center of it all—
Hinata and Xiānzǐ.
Both were drenched in blood, barely able to stand.
Hinata's sword was gone—only the broken handle remained, gripped tightly in her hand like she refused to let it go. Her face was cut, her breath ragged, her stance swaying.
Xiānzǐ didn't look any better. One arm hung limp at her side, her clothes torn and soaked, her pale hair streaked with red. Her breathing was sharp, forced—yet her eyes hadn't dulled. They still burned with focus.
The wind howled past them, stirring the debris, carrying silence and ash.
The forest was gone.
The cliffs were scarred.
The very land had been reshaped by their battle.
But they were still standing.
Still staring each other down.
"So," Hinata said coldly, wiping blood from her mouth, "why's the Water Princess so desperate for money?"
Xiānzǐ blinked, caught off guard. "So you recognized me, huh?" Her tone stayed calm, almost amused. "Well, it's not like I'm broke or anything. I just wanna earn something on my own. That's all."
Hinata stared at her in silence for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she spoke.
"You know there's no reward on my head, right?"
Xiānzǐ tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean no reward? Aren't you supposed to be some big shot?"
"Being a big shot doesn't automatically mean there's a bounty on me," Hinata replied, her voice sharp as glass.
Xiānzǐ blinked again. "What?!" she said flatly. "You wasted my damn time. You could've just told me that at the start."
She turned, clearly annoyed, and began walking away.
Hinata watched her, breathing still heavy. "You're really retreating?" she asked, tone still cold.
"Of course," Xiānzǐ replied without turning back. "No reward, no point. What's there to gain?"
"Monster." Xiānzǐ whisper as she looked Hinata before walking back.
And with that, she vanished—gone like a mist in the wind.
Hinata looked down at the broken hilt in her hand.
"…It was my first sword," she whispered, her voice soft—tinged with a quiet sorrow, like she'd lost something precious.
Her eyes lifted as she heard footsteps.
Yuki emerged from the trees, dragging the golden staff woman by the leg. The woman was still unconscious, her body bruised and limp. Yuki dropped her near Hinata, then sat down with a quiet sigh.
"So that's what happens when you fight someone at your level," Yuki said, resting her arms on her knees.
Hinata let out a dry chuckle as she lay on her back. "I guess so. It's my first time fighting someone like her… But looks like you've gotten stronger than me."
"Stronger?" Yuki raised a brow. "Maybe… but she gave me a hard time. I've still got a long way to go."
"Whoa… now that's unexpected," a voice called out from behind them. A man with a relaxed grin walked over, his hands in his pockets. "Didn't think anyone could give our chief a hard time."
It was Asahi—an S-ranker.
CRACK!
"OW! What the hell!?" he winced as a sharp smack landed on his head.
Behind him stood Yuna, another S-ranker, her expression stern but calm. "Why are you acting so casual, stupid? Go get the medics. Now."
"Tch… fine, fine," Asahi muttered as he walked off, rubbing his head.
Yuna turned to the others behind her. "Start cleaning up. Secure the unconscious one. Burn the bodies."
The group moved quickly. Orders were followed. The battlefield was cleared—bodies removed, blood soaked into the dirt, and silence slowly returned to the ruined land.
And among it all, Yuki and Hinata sat beneath the trees—silent, tired, but still standing.
[Chapter 16 End]