Here comes another battle chapter!

And... no, it's not that kind of 'battle' like the previous chapter. It's a real one; however, I'm somewhat unhappy with the pacing of this chapter solely because it doesn't match the battle BGM I have playing in my mind when writing the start of this latest arc. Having planned this for so long, the result... doesn't really match expectation. For that, I'm sorry for you guys as well as myself. Regardless, thank you for the warm reception for the last 'battle'! It's always a battle (no pun intended) between realistic and idealistic scene, especially if it concerns a girl's first time. I know from experience it rarely goes as well as we men have in our heads... but you can do it! The way I've done it! Let's go (for both girls and boys)!

For me, I've watched (finally!) the latest FGO movie... and promptly inappropriately laughed at Arash's death. I-Is that okay with you guys? I was reminded of the time his VA shouted, "STEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" without a microphone at a certain conference... Ahahaha...

There's absolutely nothing correct about the things Fūma Kōtarō did since earlier. Certainly not things he'd passed on to the next generation. 'Eating his own words' would be a better parable.

Position compromised, check. Surrounded from all sides, check. Mission parameters unfulfilled, check. Everything came together in a way it should just be abandoned right away. Shinobis were expected to give their lives for the mission, yes, but not to the same idiotic and fruitless degree of low-ranked samurais. If their deaths achieved nothing, then it's better to live in another indignant day and make things right afterwards, compared to lying there like a dog's corpse.

So why was he still engaging? A sense of nostalgia, of sympathy, of kinship?

Was he, Fūma Kōtarō, shaken simply because he's fighting his descendant? 'Just because this boy's face is similar to mine…'

Perhaps precisely this young man's not identical to him Kōtarō couldn't just dismiss it and attack with all his might. If it's completely the same face, then he could've just chucked it up as either a bunshin or another similar trick… but the baby fat still remaining on that young adult's body, and the softer features when compared to his own face, brought up memories of a certain other woman to his mind…

However, it's one he's long cast away and forgotten to attain other things, so he could – should – be able to compartmentalize this issue to the point he's unaffected.

Yet, here he was, making illogical decisions.

In the first place, his movement had become sloppy. Or had the modern world cooked up techniques his generation no longer was able to overcome? He should've been moving from village to village without problems, as stealthily as a stray cat and ignored by the people just as much. After he separated with the avatar of his old friend, Kōtarō was solely interested in seeing what this era had to offer, and none whatsoever towards garnering power or changing the landscape back to whatever he's used to.

Kashin Koji had his own ambitions, unrelated to what Kōtarō desired.

He didn't make any noises and troubles, so why was he still being pursued?

Well, he shouldn't complaint. Plenty of his previous targets had directly shouted at him with those exact words, and he still reaped their lives just like the demon they cursed and casted him at. Why should he deserve anything better? If any, he should've taken his own advice from back then and fight back with everything he had, using self-loathing at one's own lack of strength as fuel to resist the inevitable death.

…which circled nicely back to the first problem. He could not, for this new life of him, exert his true potential under siege from the latest incarnation of the Fūma Clan – a fact he simply couldn't fathom. He's the one who taught them most of their techniques as well as the philosophy behind facing one's own former allies… why was he the one who's flustered and not them?

No, these younglings were indeed affected; just not the same way he was. The slight traces of hesitation in their exposed eyes never travelled well enough to their limbs to expose any opening he could take. Or, to be more precise, they're letting their well-honed instincts and training take over regardless of the emotions they're feeling right now – exactly what he taught his immediate successors.

The place of ambush was a roadside watering hole not far from Harima – a simple shack serving snacks for weary travellers. Kōtarō had barely begun to dig into his fare when he noticed the lack of people around him. These would-be attackers were good, he surmised, for being able to evacuate unrelated collateral damage from underneath his nose without him noticing until it's too late. He also silently cursed at his rustiness for not paying attention, instead of cruising around taking in the scenery, thinking he's safe so long as he kept a low profile.

Really, forgetting the simple fact he's here meant his appearance would be anything but low profile. Despite what Kashin Koji claimed, he should've known his summoning here, incidental or not, would've triggered several red flags to the relevant authorities. Hoping he'd get away scot-free was just wishful thinking – another sign he's no longer at his prime, physically and mentally.

However, he had to sigh in disappointment, because what's coming at him was so predictable he'd had to fight off a yawn, and only his sluggish mind prevented him from actually doing so.

To laymen, a shinobi team's movements appeared horrifyingly chaotic, a mix of physical and magical marvel descending upon a target to reap their lives. A series of footwork, body contortion, figurative and literal smokescreens, and liberal doses of Thaumaturgy worked together to weave a picture of inevitable invincibility – that no matter how well-defended a target was, the shinobis would always reach them. Regardless of clan or family, the whole industry worked together to weave this mythical superiority, objectively joining hands and overlooking transgressions between each other to ensure a continuous stream of demand. There's no sense in revealing the truth and de-mystify things for a momentary burst of glory and fame because it'd impact the entire industry as a whole.

But in his eyes, these were the movements of inexperienced amateurs going by-the-book.

A layer of three: the foremost vanguard, the middle responders, and the rearmost support specialists. With the team's leader standing some way back – from what Kōtarō could sense – it's as typical as one could get.

Whether he could go past this tried-and-true method, though, was another matter entirely. There's a reason why this had become a cliched staple: It simply worked. Even against an overwhelmingly strong opponent, it always gave a proper and researchable results, so the next engagement would be an improvement. [Time] and [Space] were both abundant to study with this, regardless of results. Still, despite this rather lax attitude, it succeeded more often than not.

It's thus adopted by most shinobi clans, and the Fūma wasn't even the pioneer of this tactic. It's a variant of the various old battlefield tactics rejigged for urban combat, after all – something that old didn't just become obsolete so quickly. Even after advancements in technology, tactics more often than not got adapted to them instead of completely birthing new ones. Nobunaga was considered a true pioneer and outlier when she did the latter with muskets and gunpowder, despite her formations completely making sense when one thought of it.

The problem was… no one did. And the credit went to the first person with enough guts to do so. Which Kōtarō actually appreciated. There's no sense of joy in seeing the esame thing over and over again, especially since he's been dead for the past few centuries. If being incarnated again resulted in him seeing identical things he's used to, then he'd truly get worried about humanity's advancements.

He himself had never witnessed it personally, but stories about pruned timelines and Quantum Time Locks were a dime a dozen throughout history for those who bothered to research.

So was this about that? His existence wasn't allowed lest the world collapse on itself or something?

His body flickered, evading the storm of thrown weapons before the first puff of smoke even erupted. However, the torrent of kunais and shurikens was staggered just enough to counter this precise evasive manoeuvre, and the spots where he'd likely to appear already were lines with the very same metallic shrapnel he's trying to avoid. Grunting, he Reinforced his skin and contorted his body to minimize any possible impact, allowing some to graze and go through his Magecraft so long as his vitals were covered. He tried to gather himself for another set of evasive manoeuvre, but the first layer of attackers were already on him with short-range weapons like tantōs and clubs.

At the very least, their hand-to-hand techniques had improved somewhat from the crude basics Kōtarō left behind. Every slash, stab, and bludgeoning would leave behind a small natural opening, which was immediately covered by another in an impregnable chaining combo. Besides, every shinobi didn't just only rely on their weapons, but also their well-trained bodies, striking out with limbs whenever possible.

Strike first. Ask questions later. Their exposed eyes showcased their dedication to the mission at hand, regardless whether it's the right thing to do or not.

Just the way he taught them.

No hesitation.

He rotated his body, fully Reinforcing it to the limit in exchange for loss of flexibility, so his limbs could act like battering rams against the onslaught. Tilting his head to evade a stab to the eye, he right forearm lashed out to the hand holding the tanto and smashed the bones to dust… if only. Instead of a bone-crunching solid impact, he felt as if he's hitting a futon instead – the wrist gently absorbing the strike and preventing injury. The same thing happened to the places his other limbs struck out: chest, hips, and faces; each flexibly bending and caving in just enough the impact merely drove them back instead of gravely injuring them.

Before he could catch a breath, various chains lashed out from in-between the gaps in the front formation, binding his neck and limbs immobile. Noticing what they're about to do, he let his magic energy rampage and travel through the metal links, clashing with the debilitating [Lightning] energy they're about to use.

He heard several frustrated clicks of the tongues, though as earlier, they didn't let their emotions get the best of them. The frontline re-engaged again, giving the mid-range attackers the slim break they needed to reset, while the rear guards finished their incantations and talismans. Kōtarō saw several enchanted papers shot upwards into the air, before bursting like fireworks and covering the entire small battleground with an invisible energy.

"Hoo… So you guys are attempting to capture me. I thought you have the galls to kill me – I guess not!" He guffawed, trying to get a reaction out of them. It's quite odd using archaic accent and old-man-speak in this young body, but that's what he's used to nowadays. Mimicking someone younger was just a waste of effort in the midst of combat. "Let me see your current Kage! Perhaps we can resolve this misunderstanding!"

"Oh, I don't think that's necessary, Great Ancestor," a voice predictably answered him from the isolated presence he felt earlier. "The only misunderstanding here is how a dark magus has mistakenly roused your esteemed self from sleep. Thus, it's our duty to make things right once again."

- Bam!

Before he finished speaking, Kōtarō had already flickered away crudely, his previous standing spot nothing but a crater as he focused on speed rather than stealth.

"Oi, defensive formation!"
"Breach! Breach!"
"Tighten up!"

Some panicked noises rose from the crowd underneath him as he launched himself towards where the Kage was speaking from. 'Too late!' He mocked as the surroundings blurred due to his speed. 'Let this be a lesson to you all!'

Sometimes, a stupidly honest attacked performed at the level beyond human comprehension was more effective than something full of tricks.

However, he expected someone among them to be bright enough to expect something like this… and he's proven correct, though not from the individual he expected.

The 'Kage' in the distance emitted his magic energy sharply, 'roaring' in excitement and immediately rocketed towards and met him halfway, blasting away the foliage between them to clear a path. Clicking his tongue in an eerily similar fashion to these young kids from earlier, he couldn't help himself but grin right afterwards. 'Bold! I like it!'

Logically, a VIP should always be protected and shielded at all cost, to the point no one unnecessary should even know what they looked or sounded like. It's rather backwards when one considered a Kage should be a clan's most powerful fighter, who needed no protection from those weaker than him, but that's how tradition played out most of the time.

A mop of red hair the same shade as his own blinked into existence, clearly moving slightly faster than this makeshift body.

There's no time to be enamoured with appearances. Whatever this boy looked like, he's now become an obstacle to his comfortable living.

- …

That was several dozen minutes ago.

Until now, the fight had been brutal. Both sides knew precisely what the other party would do – regardless of how the older Kōtarō criticized the current generation's uncreative techniques, he himself realized he didn't have much new things to show, either. Quickly, the men who shared the same namesake realized in order to get somewhere, they had to fight while betting their own bodies on the line.

Be cut, in order to have a chance to cut. Let one's own flesh be torn, so the enemy's bone would be crushed. Receive, so one could return it tenfold.

There's no longer any difference between taijutsu, genjutsu, or ninjutsu. All three techniques – along with other esoteric ones – melded together into seamless combinations savagely clashing against each other. Any preference would be patterned and taken advantage of, and that's not a state high-level combatants like them wanted to get exposed to.

Both Kōtarōs struck their forearms against each other, trying to force the weapons clutched in their hands into each other's throat. The one in the older incarnation's own was wrestled from an unconscious shinobi nearby, himself having eaten a counter straight to the jaw. Not locking himself in for long, because there's all sorts of attacks rushing in from his blindspots, he backflipped while holding a frontal choke on his younger successor, hoping he could use the latter as a human shield. Alas, the other Kōtarō wasn't a Kage for nothing, and he instantly slashed at the elder's fingers to disengage properly and let his subordinates' attacks land.

Not only that; the younger Kōtarō melded into shadow along with a few members of the middle line to strike from odd, unpredictable angles with all sorts of methods.

Inhaling sharply, to the point his diaphragm was ballooning close to bursting, the first Kōtarō emitted a [Wind] ninjutsu strong enough to cover everything spherically around him, blasting a neat crater in the area formerly occupied by the small shack he was resting in. it only succeeded in snuffing out several small fire lances rocketing towards him from those aforementioned shadow realms. Some of the rock bullets, as well as enchanted metal weapons, were merely shifted in their paths and sliced thinly across his body, drawing blood as Reinforcement was unable to be maintained during his ninjutsu activation.

Using an [Earth] Element ninjutsu as a substitute, he Altered his entire body according to the hardest minerals around his feet had felt. While a crude emergency technique, it's at least both flexible and practical, able to mimic whatever material his short-term memory managed to recall. And because a shinobi uniform was usually fashionably exposed enough for his skin to feel the elements, it's a good cheap trick to buy several seconds of time.

Of course, knowing this, the next volley of attacks would go back and contain that [Lightning]-condusive elements again, but by then, the older Kōtarō would've slipped away to reset the engagement once again.

One advantage of this new body of his was stamina. Even in his prime, it'd be impossible to continuously battle this number of highly-skilled individuals over a period of time. His current self could easily process ambient mana and supplanting that with the magic energy leaking from the Reverse Side, much like how yōkais plant their Yōkai Zones to deal with small situations. Additionally, with the Outside World increasingly capable of melding and supporting yōkais over the years, Kōtarō was able to continuously execute as many taxing techniques as this body would allow.

On the contrary, the peak maximum output of these descendants of his was a smidge higher, especially his younger namesake, befitting his title of Fūma's 'Kage'. For instance, the incoming purple lightning spear had enough Conceptual Weight in it to disturb the [Space] around the older Kōtarō, preventing yet another evasive body flickering using that element. That's something he couldn't match with his limited output – thus, he relied on guile and experience more than outright power, along with assurance he wouldn't just pass out on the spot just in case Kashin Koji forgot to supply him with enough energy.

Therefore, instead of using the same tactic as before, he took advantage of the elemental matchup and actually generated a polar opposite [Lightning] field, which ate the younger Kōtarō's attack head-on and was actually repelled as a result. Utilizing this energy, he propelled himself far back, already supercharging the surrounding metallic objects into a neat railway to increase his speed even more.

Facing them continuously like this was stupid, regardless of his stamina advantage. His concentration was limited, and he's bound to slip up sooner or later. Even with all his skills, he only managed to take out one person partially out of luck.

He matched the ambushing group's frustration level. While they're confused as to why they couldn't get a hold of him yet, he's still confused with his feelings of hesitation from earlier. He could feel it sapping at his already-limited strength, leaving him with no headroom to safely play along with their mission.

'Now, how about we take this somewhere livelier?'

Shinobis were originally trained for urban combat, in contrast to the samurais for the battlefield. However, there still existed a maximum metric a team their size could operate in the city… and among innocents. From their clash earlier, he could sense they still maintained their humanity – 'Good…' – and thus could hesitate even more if it's too crowded. A change in loadout was necessary when comparing an ambush at the outskirts compared to slipping and ducking among bustling market-goers.

It's something he's sure they couldn't afford to do at his current escaping speed.

That was… if they didn't already have a second backup team ready back in Harima. That would be troublesome.

Still, it's a chance he'd take. While Nihon lacked Nanban's intricate sewer system owing to a difference in necessity and geography, a sufficiently large city like Harima should be enough to give them the slip… temporarily. After all, their tracking and hiding skills were his equal, and there's only so much an individual could do against a group of similarly-capable people. Additionally, if he managed to reach Harima, the group chasing hot on his heels would've had the city's internal disciplinary force to worry about.

The time he'd gain would not only allow him to regroup and restock, but also think deeper as to why he's experiencing this attack in the first place. The short conversations they had earlier, between the two parties, wasn't forthcoming as to the real reason. The first Kōtarō didn't believe it's purely the mission they're given, precisely because his younger namesake's presence. The latter would've been the one who issued the orders… so who was powerful enough to move the entire top brass of the current Fūma Clan like this? The latest Princess General from Hōjō? But what stake did she have in his elimination?

Such questions were better mulled through in peace and not under chasing duress. Therefore, he had to reach Harima as soon as possible… which wasn't guaranteed despite the roadside shack's close proximity to the city limits. Their skirmish earlier had alarmed the border guards, and while those hadn't made a direct move yet, it's clear from his peripheral vision they're preparing to shut the gate as the Fūma moved closer to the running shadow.

- …

…or not.

The entire suburban area near the closest gate… was deserted.

'Ah… They really did have a backup team ready in place, after all…'

He instantly rotated his body and dug his heels in, his magic energy skyrocketing past the safe output he'd determined earlier.

There's no sense in holding back in a temporary body likely to be destroyed soon, after all. If they wanted to return his soul back to the Void, then he's going to make sure they'd earn it. No laying down surrendering for him.

However, yet another unexpected thing happened.

In this deserted area, combined with the funnelling structure typical of a city's main entrance to aid defence, his chasers were revealed in full owing to the lack of cover. Indeed, at the lead was the younger Kōtarō, whose face's similarity to him was accentuated even better under the light of day. There was actually some kunoichis interspersed among the group – a fact he didn't care much to note about earlier since gender had no bearing to deadliness in combat – and everyone spread out in a semi-circle in front of him, equally as confused to why this place was so silent.

"…is this not your plan?" The first Kōtarō finally asked. "You almost look more surprised than me."

"I'm more surprised you decided to take that risk and blow up your remaining energy," his younger counterpart replied.

To his credit, he didn't let his bewilderment get to him more than a split second. 'Way to calm down your men, boy,' the older redhead complimented in his head. Indeed, if the leader was flustered, what chance did their subordinates have of remaining calm? "Well, you leave me no choice, don't you? You guys seem to be used to fighting against my own Fūma techniques."

Well, that brought out a nice reaction.

Bitterly smiling, the other Kōtarō admitted, "You don't know how true that is."

- Fwish.

"Mn!"

The first generation Kage leapt sideways, but even that quick reaction still earned him a neat slice across his stomach. His successor – 'Which generation is he from again?' – crossed that distance between them with a speed he hadn't shown before, taking the former by surprise. "Great footwork!"

"Your compliment doesn't make me happy, you know!" The current Fūma Kōtarō grinned sarcastically, already rotating his body again and again to lash out with various sword strikes against Reinforced skin. His speed increased again, not allowing any chance for his predecessor to initiate any other defensive technique. "For your own good, shut up and get killed already!"

"I'm tired of listening to those words, boy!"

The open space didn't give him as much an advantage as he'd thought. In fact, it felt like the ambush setup from earlier constrained the boy's real strength, and now in a straight-up duel, the tanto and shuriken and kunai were lashing out faster and stronger than before. The difference brought to mind the comparison between shinobi and samurai he'd made in his mind just now – again, yet another layer of confusion.

The other Fūma shinobis were just standing around as witnesses, not even bothering to participate by way of long-range support. Instead, they soon decided it's better to investigate this strange phenomenon and leave things here to their reliable leader.

'Tch!'

The burn-off of magic energy he emitted earlier didn't pay out since the younger Kōtarō had engaged him faster than he could make use of the power-up, meaning he's uselessly degrading his own body with every movement.

"Grraaaahhh!"

"Tsk!"

The younger one clicked his tongue when he felt his surroundings began to darken and turn monochromatic, accompanied by another large burst of inhuman magic energy from his older counterpart. He'd been focused on pinpoint accuracy and speed since earlier to harass the latter precisely because he didn't want this to happen, taking advantage of the fact the older Kōtarō seemed to respect his blows enough to be concerned about them. Thankfully, there's little chance of collateral damage usually associated with out-of-control Yōkai Zones because of the strange situation they'd embroiled themselves in.

Whether this was a trap designed for both of them… no one really cared apart from punching the other party into submission.

Regardless, Kōtarō – the current one – felt there's also an equally little chance this living corpse in front of him would surrender control so willingly. His shinobi training simply wouldn't allow it. However, that meant he's now facing a focused opponent, instead of a wildly raging beast he could take advantage of.

"For once, I'm grateful of your blood!" The younger one exclaimed, dodging a counter straight kick to his stomach by flipping in the air and exploding with his own burst of magic energy. With his veins bulging and hair fluttering mysteriously in this dead zone without colour, he allowed his oni blood to take control more and more according to how much power his older counterpart was drawing out of his current state. "Go down!"

Another negative aspect of the first Kōtarō's new body was his lack of original blood, meaning he lost quite a lot of his bloodline ability because only his soul was transforming this puppet body into his likeness. Most of the techniques he'd pulled out was so standard because he had to – using skills available to everyone who trained, instead of relying on inborn talent. Granted, he's so used to fighting like this after leaving Mongolia it's barely a burden to him… against everybody else bar his own kin, obviously.

A whirlwind then broke apart the dead space, rustling the red spider-lilies and wisterias blooming all around, revealing a merger of the Fūma Clan's prized summoning animal – a kamaitachi – with the clan founder's body. Cute bear-like ears poked through the flowing red hair, as a wicked scythe-tail hovered behind him attached to his back. Various markings adorned his body mimicking the blood vessel pattern of his successor, though they looked more artificial than the latter's.

Before the younger Kōtarō could get a better look, the man's figure flickered, now unhindered by the other Fūmas' strategic attacks and formation.

"Gaha!"

Before the sound of his movement even reached his opponent, a side kick had already landed on the current Kōtarō's side.

- Thud!

The sonic boom was mismatched when compared to the pain he felt, indicating the blow just now surpassed the sound barrier however momentarily. With a soft sound and minimal power, a kick delivered at such speed was still enough to knock the wind out of the younger man. Immediately rolling mid-air to kill the impact and reposition himself, the figure of the person who'd kicked him was nowhere to be seen through his arms' guard.

This delay was enough for a perfect oni horn to form on his forehead, however. With his instincts now boosted to the maximum, he ducked under a beheading slice from behind, performed by that prehensile tail, before planting his arms onto the ground and pushing himself off to the side to dodge the follow-up downwards axe kick. Charging his tanto with his new mix of human and yōkai magic energy, he performed a horizontal circular slash to at least take out any angle of attack directly around him.

- Clang! Clang! Clang!

As expected, the enhanced magic blade clashed several times with invisible wind blades, shot precisely just above the menacing flowers to prevent him from reading their trajectories. He jumped lightly and rotated perpendicularly to where he felt the attacks were coming from, rolling to the side mid-air, just in time to dodge yet another hidden invisible blade cleaving where he was standing in half. It did manage to nick one of his shoes, though just the sole.

- Fwish!

The constant sound of flickering body came from all directions around him. deciding it's not worth careening his vision this way and that so quickly he'd get dizzy first, the younger Kōtarō allowed his enhanced senses take control and attempted to establish his own Yōkai Zone in this rapidly-expanding area. It's not as difficult to do when compared to creating one's own domain in a much stronger Realm, especially in this oni form of his, but he still had no counter for this extreme speed his predecessor was constantly showing.

Closing his eyes, the air pressure on his skin was enough to at least defend his vitals. Right after landing, he tilted his body minutely to the left and right, at times ducking and dropping down his stance, to avoid the buzzing wind blades fluidly. At times, his tantō struck out to parry the tail-scythe coming down at him from tremendously flexible angles, though his success gave him no confidence in the immediate future.

With every blow, he could feel this half-yōkai had just been getting used to his newfound powers. Hence, none of the strikes up until now had been at its optimum – a fact which greatly concerned him.

"I've never seen an Apotheosis like this, Great Ancestor. Why are you betraying our own lineage?" Kōtarō quipped, not knowing his opponent's physical limitation. "This is the bloodline you've established yourself!"

"Talking in the middle of a battle? I never taught your predecessors this," his voice replied back, reverberating from all directions due to his speed. "Besides, that naïve thinking is what causes this situation in the first place."

Still closing his eyes, the single horn on his forehead glowed in accordance to his emotions. Whether it's real or fake, no one knew. "I don't question this mission when I see the details. That's how wrong your presence here is… Believe me, I have experience."

"Oho? Is that sadness I hear? Who did you kill? Your parents? Boohoo…" A mocking reply came. "Then, believe me, boy, with time, you will grow to like thinking and questioning."

- Static!

"Oh, by the way, you've failed."

"G-Grhh!"

The younger Kōtarō instantly groaned when he felt his entire body being squeezed heavily by the sudden appearance of a fully-formed Yōkai Realm, his own smaller Zone instantly dissipating under the pressure. It took everything from him to maintain the singular horn on top of his forehead – a self-hypnosis symbol of his activation of his bloodline – as well as the minute film of magic energy on his skin as a result of the transformation.

"Do you think your intention is in any way well-masked? To my eyes, it's as clear as day," the older Kōtarō revealed. "Stalling for time to wait for my own union with Kamaitachi to fail? Don't you know that's practically in every single guidebook for us shinobi?"

"…w-well, I was hoping your mouth would turn it off and make it hate you, G-Great Ancestor…" his younger counterpart sarcastically replied from behind gritted teeth, "…good try anyway… because you can't kill me, either."

"Ho? Do you think familial ties are enough to stop us in our occupation? I may have called you naïve, but not that naïve." The voice, yet again, came from a place he didn't expect, and got a neat kick to the back of the head for his troubles. "Oi, oi, is that your skull I hear cracking? Are you sure your Reinforcement is correct?"

"That's… none of your business!"

Copying the [Wind] attacks from earlier, Kōtarō the Fifth inhaled a large gulp of air, disregarding the stars he's now seeing courtesy of the budding concussion he's feeling, and spun his entire body low to the ground to blast an all-rounded typhoon cushion, pushing any potential attacks away. His half-beast opponent silently chuckled, jumping high into the air and preparing a rocketing downwards pointed kick, right into the middle of the mini-tornado's dead zone. While it's a far cry from a calm eye of a storm, he relied on his overwhelming physical strike to go past any sort of obstacle waiting for him there.

- Bam!

As predicted, an under-pressure counterattack wasn't anything to worry about. The younger Kōtarō was pleasantly talented in his predecessor's eyes, granting him a sense of security regarding his clan's future, but he's clearly not at the level where he could take care of everything by himself. The first Kōtarō mulled his first memory of setting up the clan in Hōjō territory with practically nothing but the clothes on his back from Mongolia as he smacked his younger counterpart to the floor, before his scythed tail smacked him across the ground with its blunted spine.

It's not as if he's questioning the younger boy's resolve. The few times their eyes had met, it's clear those weren't the orbs of an innocent idealist – they'd experienced pain and heartbreak, forging his soft, childish features into a mature one. He's purely stronger and more experienced; simple as that.

His opponent's words about how he's abandoning his origins rather stung, but understandable since he didn't want to give off detailed weaknesses and strengths of this new body of his. Let him think this old one had truly gotten off the deep end, because it seemed this one thing did have a psychological effect on the boy. Whether it's a real weakness or just a dud… 'Well, it's time to find out, no?'

From his peripheral vision, he could see the boy's group returning, though he'd felt them even earlier when they deliberately passed through his Yōkai Realm's boundary to observe whether their leader needed their help or not. Not wanting any potential disturbance, he body-flickered and kneed the still-gasping younger Kōtarō in the side of his stomach, sending him shooting even further towards Harima's city centre.

The difficulty in forming a Yōkai Realm when compared to a simpler zone was the difficulty in moving it. It's much more a set Bounded Field than the latter, which could simply be activated and deactivated repeatedly because of its small cost. Cancelling the Realm would mean wasted time in setting it up later.

…but Fūma Kōtarō didn't care. His target's over there – and beyond it, free life.

'Besides, these chumps really wasted their energy in coming back here if they're not going to attack!' Grinning, he unhesitatingly compressed back his Yōkai Realm and shot forth to chase. 'It's a shame I can't reuse this energy…' he complained in his mind. 'I really have to get used to this form fast.'

Strangely enough, it didn't hurt as much as he'd thought.

Still, the current generation of Fūma Kōtarō was being thrown through several buildings and carts and small crowds of people, which meant he's away from that strangely desolate area and much closer to where there's actually some hint of activity. The pain in his head and chest was troublesome in maintaining a consistent Reinforcement across his body to protect against this fact, but coming out of that disturbing Yōkai Realm did help.

The last roll and bounce onto the hard ground forced out a bloody cough from his mouth, but he managed to stop and attempt to regain his balance. The dust kicked up by his landing wasn't too bad, either, so he could get his bearings quite quickly…

"Oh, it's you."

Looking up, he saw a familiar mop of red hair, slightly different shade to his own, paired with a chiselled face of a young adult.

"You're- Ugh…!" He wanted to call out 'Sengo Muramasa', but another blood clot interrupted his words. Because he could feel his ancestor was approaching fast, he prioritized getting back to his feet as soon as possible, crouching almost immediately and spitting out the crimson blob pockmarking his lungs. "G-Get away from here! Clear out the civilians…!"

"Already done."

"O-Oi!"

"So, from now on, you'll be the one who follows my orders. Understood, wounded one?"

"Hey! Step back from there! He's not an opponent you can- U-Ugh…!"

The lean, muscular man had just walked casually past Kōtarō's offensive-ready stance – in fact, slightly obscuring him – which elicited several protests from the shorter man. Kōtarō stumbled lightly when he stood up too quickly to catch the man's elbow, a painful pang pricked him on the side where he was recently kneed.

"Focus on your healing Magecraft. Looking at your wounds, you're at your physical peak when you faced against this opponent, right?" Muramasa deduced, not bothered to even look back and check Kōtarō expression to see if his words were true or not. "Then what hope you have when alone and injured like this? Do you think of me as those civilians my… colleague has just evacuated?"

"That's very true!"

A gallant female voice replied from somewhere behind Kōtarō, whose owner rather shocked him when he turned around to see who was it. 'E-Echigo's Dragon?! What the hell is she doing here… I-Is that sauce around her lips?!'

"I shall trounce this villain right here and now! My fated rival, wait here! Hyah!"

Before the two men could barely let another word off, she'd already run off towards the incoming mass of magic energy, much to their consternation and cold sweat-dropping. However, seemingly having expected this, Muramasa flicked his thumb, from where a thick chain suddenly shot off… followed by an ever-louder shout of, "…hhhhwwwwwwaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" as Kagetora was pulled straight back to where she started.

"W-What is the meaning of this?!" She yelled, snot and drool leaking from several orifices and dirtying her face. Her mystical white hair was dishevelled, typical of someone who had just been yanked back the opposite way they'd been running harshly. "I-I will not stand this, Muramasa-dono!"

"I'd rather you save your energy… because we have reinforcements as well, you know?" He coolly raised an eyebrow at her. "Besides, you still haven't finished your meal. I cooked that. Don't waste food."

"HOW THE HELL'S THAT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW?!" Kagetora screamed the question which had been bugging Kōtarō's mind since earlier: This person… is strange. "THAT WAY! ENEMY! KILL!"

The place Kōtarō was blown into seemingly was a commercial district… and he stopped right in front of a makeshift restaurant – semi-outdoors, at that. It's remarkably intact, though he guessed that's solely because he managed to halt his flight right at that moment before Muramasa cleaved him in half just to avoid staining this restaurant's precious walls with his remains. He shuddered when he imagined what'd happen if any of the collateral damage touched this building with both Muramasa and Kagetora in it…

'…come to think of it, there's also not much people presence here.'

Well, the man did admit to having arranged a similar emergency evacuation to what his group had done around the roadside shack earlier, so it could be because of that. Regardless, his confidence swelled, shifting into a more casual, upright stance compared to his tense, crouched one from before. His Great Ancestor might have been powerful, overpowering him in both of their transformed states, but Kōtarō was initially confident in taking him on with just him and his shinobis, much less these two great warriors – one famous, one nameless.

But why did Muramasa prevented the first contact? The original Kōtarō was approaching fast…

…and stopped.

- Step.

"What the hell's this? Concerned citizens?" The half-beast Kōtarō sneered, mockingly describing the trio now standing in his way. Over the small elapsed time, his transformation grew more and more complete – his red hair extended into a mane along his bestial spine, bristling stiffly with the typical readiness of hair needle ninjutsu; his eyes had fully shifted into an animalistic one; talons grew from his fingers and toes around a quarter the length of his scythe-tail. "This doesn't concern the good sir and beautiful war maiden. That's my bottom line ever since I'm alive. So, move over."

- Fwoosh!

Without giving them time to respond, he had already launched himself at the single-horned Kōtarō, [Wind] propelling his movement to unnatural smoothness and speed.

"Hhhhrrrrrrrrrrkkkkkhhhhh…!"

Almost like a complete reversal of what happened to Kagetora from earlier, his dash was halted by a restraining rope… in the form of a red fabric.

"A scarf…?" The first Kōtarō growled. A knowledgeable glint appeared in his eyes, before he roared, "DANZŌ! You're here, aren't you?! Show yourself- Oof!"

- Twang! Twang! Twang!

Countless red fabrics rose from seemingly thin air everywhere around him, snaking and coiling and wrapping all around his limbs. Red swaying forests, much like the famed red nori of the cold northern sea, threateningly vibrated from their perch, yet their wielder was nowhere to be seen.

"Get off! Cheap tricks! Hmph!"

- Slash…

A panicked backhanded slash failed to do anything apart from bend the eerily thin and handmade-looking red scarf, before the part Kōtarō tried to cut automatically wrapped around the talons, blunting them. His tail swung around, clearly attempting to free one of his bound arms, but it bounced off when a bundle twisted around themselves into a sharp, solid spike, stopping it midway through its swing.

"Grrrrrraaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

This time, he summoned the [Wind] from all around him instead of generating it with his body movement, daringly having the newly-formed invisible cannonballs to ram his own body to shred these annoying restrains.

However, it's not a particularly suicidal tactic. To his knowledge, this ninjutsu relied on manual operation of each fabric's side. While troublesome, it enabled its user to use one fabric to exhibit two or more different attributes. Therefore, an unexpected attack to an unprepared side should be able to disrupt its operation.

…that was, if the user had no knowledge of the potential victim's abilities.

Just as the first Kōtarō recognized this as his best student's and assistant's technique, so too must she know of his ability to escape.

So why did she give up so easily?

- Srrt…

Just like that, before the [Wind] even impacted the red scarfs, they unwrapped themselves and allowed the first Kōtarō some semblance of freedom. "Tsk! What are you playing at now! Show yourself!"

- Step.

From amidst the overlapping red scarfs' gaps, a voice replied clearly to him.

"Acknowledged. Engaging now."