It felt as if the world stood still. The air was thick, heavy, as though the very earth itself was holding its breath.
The stare-down between the demon and the massive bird created an aura so intense it bordered on suffocating.
Neither moved. Neither blinked.
The battlefield, once alive with chaos and screams, had fallen eerily silent.
Even the wind dared not howl.
The heroes, bruised and beaten, could only watch—too stunned, too overwhelmed—to even speak.
At least until the demon started to talk.
His voice, sharp and laced with disdain, broke the silence like a dagger through silk.
"So, care to enlighten me on why the brat of the Shield is here?" he sneered, eyes never leaving the massive bird before him.
Although she tried to hide it, the slight widening of Fitoria's eyes betrayed a flicker of surprise.
"Well, that doesn't matter, move aside, the longer I linger here, the farther he gets."
Fitoria's glare intensified, "Whoever you're after, I won't let you reach them."
As her words reverberated across the field, a radiant light began to envelop her. Her towering form started to shrink, glowing brighter with each passing second. Within the heart of the light, a humanoid silhouette took shape. When the brilliance finally faded, standing in her place was a white-haired girl clad in an ornate, almost regal dress. Majestic wings extended from her back, and though smaller in size, the power radiating from her was no less overwhelming.
If the heroes hadn't been confused before, they definitely were now. Whatever they expected from the giant chicken, this wasn't it. But amidst the confusion, Motoyasu was experiencing something entirely different.
"Smart move shrinking down," he muttered, eyeing the girl's new form. "Way less flammable now."
A smirk returned to his face. "Well—more like it'd be harder to hit you now. Clothes like that? One flick of flame and you'll be ash."
Fitoria didn't flinch. "Then I suggest you aim carefully—because you'll only get one shot."
Before the sound of her voice could even reach the heroes, Fitoria was already gone, vanishing in a flash of motion that even the demon failed to anticipate.
A devastating kick slammed into his abdomen, folding him in half and launching him like a comet into the ground. The resulting impact shook the battlefield, sending out a shockwave nearly identical to the one from her arrival.
Before the demon could even pull himself together, Fitoria was on him again—blitzing forward in a blur of feathers and light. Mid-charge, she reverted to her colossal bird form, talons extended.
With a thunderous impact, she brought her full weight down, slamming a massive foot onto the demon and driving him deeper into the earth, the ground cracking beneath the force.
The impact hadn't even settled before Fitoria struck again. With a burst of wind, she launched back into the air, then came crashing down once more—another devastating stomp shaking the battlefield.
She didn't give him a moment to breathe.
Flames burst around the demon's body as he tried to push her away, but Fitoria wasn't going to allow it. A swipe of her wing cut through the flames, dispelling the magic mid-cast and sending embers scattering like fireflies.
She struck with her beak next, a piercing jab that cracked the earth and forced the demon to roll aside, barely dodging it. But she was relentless—chasing, hammering, pinning. Each movement was swift, precise, and impossibly heavy.
For the first time, the demon looked genuinely on the back foot. The relentless pace of Fitoria's assault, combined with her seamless shifts between human and bird form, kept him off balance. Each transformation came without warning, her timing precise and unpredictable, throwing his rhythm into chaos.
"This is getting annoying!" the demon shouted, his voice sharp with frustration as he launched himself backward, eyes locked on her every movement, wary now in a way he hadn't been before.
He'd had just about enough of this bird. As Fitoria dove in for another strike, the demon erupted with raw power, a blazing aura exploding around him like a wildfire. The sheer intensity of the heat and force halted Fitoria mid-flight, forcing her to back off, her wings beating hard to stay aloft as she eyed him warily.
"Your power is impressive, that I will admit," the demon said coolly as the flames around him died down. The air, once blistering, settled into a simmering calm.
"I might even go as far as to say it rivals a bearer's. But that is too far—you're definitely weaker. Still, I have to admit, pushing me back like that deserves a little applause."
Fitoria tensed as he began hovering toward her. He stopped as soon as he started.
His gaze shifted slowly back to the distant mountains, his eyes narrowing in frustration.
"He got away," he muttered, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face.
He turned back to Fitoria, his expression hardening, and without a word, launched forward.
Fitoria barely had enough time to raise a barrier around herself before the demon's spear shot through it, the sheer force of his strike causing the shield to crack and splinter.
She focused her magic at the point of entry, channeling a surge of power that locked his spear in place, halting its advance just inches from her. The air crackled with tension as the two forces strained against each other, neither willing to give an inch.
In a blur of motion, the demon hurled Fitoria and his own spear toward the ground like a javelin, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the air.
He rocketed toward Fitoria with terrifying speed. Reacting in an instant, she dropped her barriers and darted out of the way—just in time. The demon barely missed her, snatching his spear mid-air before it could fall an inch and swinging it downward with immense force, slamming it into the ground. The earth splintered as it caved into the force.
Fitoria's wings flared out, stabilizing her in mid-air as she fought to regain her balance. Her eyes locked onto the demon below, frustration and fury boiling over.
"Why are you interfering with the waves?!" she screamed, her voice echoing across the battlefield like a thunderclap.
As if rehearsed, the demon replied instantly, his tone calm and disdainful, "The waves are nothing more than a dying race desperately grasping at the little power they have left."
His words dripped with contempt, as though the very idea of the waves held no weight to him—just another obstacle to be brushed aside.
Before Fitoria could question what he meant, he continued, his voice laced with irritation.
"I'm here for something else. I only wanted answers. I never intended to attack, I even defeated the wave monsters for these humans as a show of goodwill, but even then they attacked me, so I retaliated."
He spoke with the confidence of someone who believed his actions were justified, as if everything that had happened was nothing more than an unfortunate inconvenience.
"I must thank you for this little scuffle—it let me release some of my pent-up annoyance." He turned away from her, voice still echoing with that casual arrogance. "I'm done here. By now, they would've noticed my absence, and I'd rather not deal with a search team."
With that, he took off into the sky, leaving only the wind in his wake.
Fitoria's reaction was borderline whiplash as she watched the demon casually attempt to fly away, as if he hadn't just brutally murdered hundreds. Her instincts screamed to strike, to stop him—but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If she attacked now, it would only escalate things further. For now, letting him go was the smarter choice… even if every fiber of her being hated it.
She tensed when he suddenly came to a halt mid-flight, expecting another surprise attack. But instead, her alarm slowly shifted into confusion as she watched him glance around with a serious, almost calculating expression, like he was inspecting the air itself, scanning for something only he could sense.
He lifted his spear, the blade heating up in response. Fitoria tensed once more, bracing for another strike—but what followed shocked her to her core.
He extended the spear outward. The very tip began to steam, not from flame, but as if reality itself was rejecting its presence. Then, slowly and deliberately, he dragged the blade downward.
Only then did she realize—he wasn't attacking.
He was cutting a hole into the very fabric of the air itself.
He lowered his spear, gazing at the thin, delicate slash in reality. His eyes narrowed as he reached out with his free hand, slipping all but his thumb into the rift. With a slow, deliberate motion, he gripped the edge of the tear and ripped it open, just as one would tear a piece of paper.
Fitoria had seen many holes in reality through the waves, but those were quick and fleeting, appearing and vanishing after a few minutes. She'd never seen anyone create one with their bare hands before, let alone tear it open like this. The demon's actions defied everything she knew about the rifts.
What lay beyond was different, too. Instead of the chaotic swirl of colors she was used to seeing in wave rifts, this tear revealed a vast expanse of stars and galaxies, like peering into the heart of the universe itself. It was almost mesmerizing.
"I suggest you train." The demon's voice snapped her out of her awe.
"At your current level, you wouldn't last in a real fight against me—and the same goes for those so-called heroes."
His tone wasn't mocking, but resolute. Like he wasn't boasting—just stating facts.
As he finished speaking, he slowly hovered into the rift, his back still facing Fitoria.
He paused just before crossing the threshold, casting a final glance over his shoulder.
Then, without another word, he vanished into the star-filled void, the tear in reality folding shut behind him like a curtain, leaving only silence in his wake.
Fitoria hovered in the air, deep in thought.
She replayed everything—the demon's words, his frightening strength, the bizarre way he tore through reality.
His power rivaled even the legends she'd once heard her master speak of back in ancient times.
And that final warning… it wasn't bluster. It was a truth she wasn't ready to ignore.
Whatever this being was, he wasn't just a threat to the heroes—he was a threat to everything.
She turned, wings spreading wide as she soared back toward her flock.
The wind rushed past her, but her mind remained a storm of questions.
Each cryptic word, each calculated move, replayed in her thoughts like a puzzle missing too many pieces.
Who was he really?
What did he mean by "bearer's"?
Who was this dying race?
And most of all… who was he looking for?
The three conscious heroes just stood there, staring at Fitoria's retreating form, completely flabbergasted at everything that had occurred.
They were left standing there, in a field of burnt and melted corpses.
The silence was deafening—no roar of monsters, no clash of magic—just the crackle of scorched earth cooling under the breeze.
Ash floated through the air like snow, settling gently on wide eyes and trembling hands.
Motoyasu slowly turned to the others, "Sooo… does this count as our win?
"Oho, what do we have right here?
A fallen Shield, so full of fear."
The voice rang out, both light and sly,
"Reminds me of a time gone by.
He, too, was weak, barely alive,
No strength to fight, no will to strive.
It was his bird who made the plea,
A desperate call that summoned me."
A chuckle followed, sharp and bright,
"And now that same bird's taken flight.
Right after such a wondrous fight.
Funny how the past repeats,
Like echoes on familiar streets."
But worry not, sweet Shield of fate,
Your death, it seems, will have to wait."
The figure twirled with joyful cheer,
Then reached into his pocket near
"A little pill, so small and round,
Yet full of strength so newly found.
It heals the wounds, it mends the pain,
And brings the light through loss and strain."
With a grin both wide and steeped in glee,
"I gave one then, I give one free.
So swallow this, and rise once more—
The game's not done, there's still a war."
He crouched beside the Shield Hero's head,
"Now open wide," the stranger said.
"This little thing will do you good—
A pill of mine, not some cheap food."
And with a grin filled with glee,
He popped it in with practiced flair,
And held his nose up in the air.
"No need to choke or try to flee,
This heals both wounds and apathy."
He stood up straight, his duty done,
"I must be swift—no time for fun."
A breeze passed by, he clicked his tongue,
"The flowing sands call out to me,
A toad has what belongs to thee.
Or rather, me—but that's the same.
I've got a score, and he's to blame."
With a final spin and robes half-spun,
"The job is done. I'm off to run."
He then paused, "Just a sec—
How could I forget? Another pill for the one you fed."
He gently placed it by the shield's side,
"For the Tanuki with the silent pride."
With that, he turned and took to the road,
Off to the sands to reclaim what the toad had stole.
A skip, a twirl, then out of sight—
Gone with the wind, swallowed by light.