Each time the Umibozu struck, its blows were met with resistance. Gunjo's **Scalding Vitality** turned its own aggression upon itself, while Yamato's bleeding mouth served as a grim reminder of the cost of each swift counter-attack.
Yaien, transformed once again into his **Speed Ball**, rolled through the Umibozu's weakened defenses, tearing apart its form, leaving a trail of fire that consumed shadow and blood alike.
The Umibozu gathered the darkness within, its black halo pulsating violently. It unleashed a barrage of shadow spikes with unprecedented speed, desperate to turn the tide of battle.
Gunjo's form had returned to normal, but he was undeterred. Timing his approach with the lull of the ocean, he dodged the spikes, closing in on the Umibozu, preparing for a decisive **Death Punch**.
Yamato, now staggering with each movement, summoned the last of his strength for a final blitz. He and Gunjo struck simultaneously, a symphony of death and destruction, each hit resonating with the force of their resolve.
Yaien, no longer able to maintain his **Speed Ball**, reverted to his colossal form and leaped high, crashing down with a **Thunder Thump** that sent quakes through the already disturbed ocean, further weakening the Umibozu's form.
Gunjo exclaimed, "Go! Go! It's weaker!"
'Shit…my Charrer Ascension form is out…my increased awareness buff is gone, I have to solely rely on instinct! Will I be able to do it? What is this rush? This excitement…? Or is this true fear..? I felt excitement from crushing my enemies before, never feeling fear from them at all.'
As the Umibozu's form began to crack and falter under the relentless assault, Gunjo's heart beat with the rhythm of the ocean itself, preparing to unleash another **Reality Sunder** to shatter the beast's will. The Umibozu attempted to reconstruct its shadowy tendrils, but each attempt was met with the burning fury of Gunjo's blood, the scythe glowing hotter, searing through the dark appendages.
Yamato, his body reaching its limits, channeled the sorrow and love for his son into one devastating strike. With a burst of speed that left a shockwave in its wake, he cleaved deep into the Umibozu's core.
As the tide receded one last time, the trio gathered their remaining strength. Yaien's shockwaves, Yamato's swiftness, and Gunjo's death punch strikes converged into a singular, cataclysmic blow.
Gunjo, Yamato, and Yaien leaped onto a large rock, and Gunjo exclaimed, "Did it work..?"
Yamato answered, coughing out blood, "It better fuckin have…"
Yaien added, "I'm getting this weird feeling..someone's watching us."
Just as victory seemed certain, the Umibozu's black halo erupted with a dark miasma. From the depths of the blood ocean, the beast reformed, larger and more furious than before. It lashed out with shadowy tendrils, catching the trio off guard and sending them sprawling backwards.
"What the-?!" Gunjo yelled.
Yamato holding his katana forward, said, "It's stronger?!"
Yaien exclaimed, "No way!"
Gunjo began to think, 'Was this bastard getting stronger from the damage he began to take? Did we miscalculate them times to strike? Or were there times where we struck and it wasn't low tide, is this the price for it?'
Gunjo said to the other two, "I'm not sure but..this beast might get stronger based on the hits it took from when the tide was high!"
Yamato replied, "Tch. No wonder it kept splashing water around to block our vision. It made us miscalculate our attacks during low tide."
Yaien added, "The bastard led us into landing blows on it!"
Gunjo said, "No it was my fault! I watched a large rock in the ocean a great distance from us to be able to determine if it was high tide or low tide, I should've been more careful! This monster..it knew what it was going to do. No wonder it barely showed resistance!"
Yamato answered, "Don't try and stuff all the blame on yourself, pissboy. We're fighting this bastard together, so we're all involved, everything falls on us."
"Old man…"
Yaien called out, "Incoming angry Umibozu!"
The beast manipulated the blood ocean into a towering wave, crashing down upon the warriors with relentless force. Gunjo, Yamato, and Yaien were engulfed, their breaths stolen by the suffocating tide, their bodies battered by the crushing pressure.
'The attacks are more devastating! Stalker window, give me the stats on the Umibozu!' Gunjo thought.
System notification: [No stats available for the Umibozu]
[Kill him]
'Impossible..
As they struggled to surface onto a nearby obsidian rock coming from the water, the Umibozu's power to slow time took hold. Every movement became a herculean effort, every second stretched into an eternity of agony. The trio flailed desperately, their energy waning against the relentless flow of distorted time.
Their movements slowed, and Gunjo thought, 'It can slow time now…? Wait…'
Gunjo's eyes wandered, and he noticed something.
'Near the shore…the waters are moving normally…he can only slow down time from a certain distance from him..? How do we beat that?!'
Breaking free from the temporal lock, the trio found themselves impaled by shadow spikes that had formed a gruesome cage around them. Blood clouded the water as they fought to free themselves, their wounds a testament to the Umibozu's wrath.
Yamato said, "That time shit..it only lasts for 7 seconds. It's halo pulses when it's about to give out. That means we assume it will pulse when it's about to be activated."
Gunjo suggested, "But how can we beat it…? I noticed it can only slow down time around it's being, other than that, what happens if we try and jump back, it might catch us."
The Umibozu summoned the ocean to its will, creating serpentine tendrils that constricted around the trio. Gunjo's scalding blood burned the watery appendages, but for each one destroyed, two more took its place, relentless in their assault.
"Shit!"
With a roar, the Umibozu unleashed a barrage of shadow spikes, each one aimed with deadly precision. Yamato parried and dodged, but the sheer number overwhelmed him, leaving deep gashes that sapped his strength and slowed his once lightning-fast movements.
The trio struggled to regain their footing as the Umibozu's attacks came from all directions, unseen in the blood-red waters. Yaien took a massive blow, the impact reverberating through his colossal frame, sending him tumbling through the ocean's depths.
"AGH!"
The Umibozu's shadowy essence began to suffocate the water itself, stealing the oxygen and replacing it with a choking darkness. The trio gasped for air, their lungs burning as they fought to resist the encroaching void.
"It's unleashing literal hell on us!" Gunjo said, holding his throat.
The black halo intensified, its darkness seeping into the very souls of the trio.
The beast's tendrils lashed out repeatedly, each hit more forceful than the last. Yamato's mouth bled profusely, the taste of iron strong as he struggled to maintain his grip on his son's aura-infused sword.
As the trio attempted to launch a counterattack, the Umibozu's heart pulsed, and the reality around them fractured. Gunjo's **Reality Sunder** could not compete, its power diminished against the beast's overwhelming presence.
"Again?!"
From the depths emerged new forms of the Umibozu, shadowy duplicates that encircled the trio. They struck in unison, a symphony of darkness that battered the warriors from all sides. A maelstrom of spikes spiraled around the trio now, a storm of darkness that tore at flesh and spirit alike. Yaien's armored hide was breached, the once impervious skin now marred with wounds that glowed eerily in the blood-drenched waters.
The Umibozu's halo pulsed, creating a vortex that dragged the trio towards its core. They spiraled helplessly, the centrifugal force threatening to rend them apart, their resistance a futile gesture against the beast's might. Gravity itself seemed to betray the warriors as the Umibozu manipulated the very forces that bound them, increasing their weight tenfold. Their limbs became leaden, their weapons burdens too heavy to bear.
A deluge of shadowy water surged forth, a tsunami of darkness that sought to drown the trio's hopes. A cold dark air flowed through, freezing the legs of the trip on the surface of the water.
"I won't lose like this..I'm so close…" Gunjo sneered.
Yamato added, "It's too damn strong."
(FLASHBACK)
(8 years ago)
(Okinawa, Japan)
Yamato stood in the heart of the dojo, a sacred space where the scent of polished wood mingled with the subtle aroma of incense. Sunlight spilled through the open shōji, casting a lattice of light and shadow across the smooth tatami mats. His young son, Kenji, mirrored his stance, a wooden bokken gripped tightly in his small hands. The clack of wood on wood echoed through the hall as they practiced, each strike an echo of tradition, each movement a dance of discipline.
"Father," Kenji's voice broke the rhythm, "what is strength truly?"
Yamato paused, lowering his bokken as he met his son's earnest gaze. "Strength, Kenji," he began, choosing his words with the same care he would a target for his blade, "is not merely the power to cut down your enemies or to carry heavy burdens. It is the resilience of the bamboo, bending in the storm but never breaking. It is the will to choose the harder right over the easier wrong." He sheathed his bokken and knelt before his son, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "True strength is mastering oneself – the harmony of mind, body, and spirit. It is in the service of others, the courage to protect, and the wisdom to know when not to draw one's sword."
With a nod, Kenji absorbed his father's words, a thoughtful furrow etching his brow. They resumed their practice, the lessons of the heart as important as those of the blade.
As the day waned, they found themselves atop a gentle hill, the dojo a quiet sentinel in the distance. Breaths came in heavy, visible puffs as they looked out across the verdant valley, the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon. The world was alight with the golden hour, an amber glow that seemed to set the very air on fire. Below, life continued in its endless ebb and flow; farmers tended to their fields, and children's laughter rose to meet them in the cooling air.
Kenji stood beside his father, his chest heaving from exertion and his eyes wide with newfound understanding. Together, they watched as a heron took flight from the riverbank, its wings cutting a silent, graceful arc across the sky. The moment was a portrait of peace, a reminder of the tranquility sought through the way of the sword.
"Look, Kenji," Yamato whispered, his voice barely above the susurrus of the wind through the grass, "the strength we seek is all around us, in every breath of life, in every moment of peace. It is the strength to live fully and to make each day a testament to the principles we hold dear."
The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky painted with the brilliant hues of twilight. Father and son stood side by side, warriors bathed in the fading light, their spirits as unyielding as the mountains and as gentle as the setting sun.
(FLASHBACK END)
(FLASHBACK START)
(1 year ago, Hell)
Yaien's memory dragged him back to a time and place soaked in the sulfurous stench of brimstone and shadow. The dark forest of his home in the underworld was a twisted mirror of the mortal woodlands, where gnarled trees clawed at the ashen skies and the underbrush teemed with the scurry of his demon bunny kin. They hopped and played among the ironwood thorns, their crimson eyes glinting with a mischievous light. Elders told stories etched in the ancient bark, while youngsters practiced the art of stealth and guile. This was their sanctuary, a haven within the hellish chaos where laughter echoed, and the warmth of community thrived.
The serenity of their existence was a fragile illusion, for the realm they inhabited was one of eternal strife and malevolence. On that cursed day, the air grew heavy, a malignant silence spreading through the woods. It was the calm before the tempest, a prelude to the carnage that would soon descend upon them. Yaien, then just a sprightly youngling, felt an ominous chill creep into his bones, an instinctual warning that the dance of shadows and whispers was about to shatter.
Without warning, the forest erupted into pandemonium as a horde of demons, grotesque and foul, surged into their peaceful enclave. These were not the familiar faces of kin but invaders, their forms twisted by the relentless furnace of hell's deepest pits. They crashed through the ironwood, their roars and howls merging into a cacophonous symphony of terror. Claws clashed against claws, fangs sunk into flesh, and the once vibrant underbrush was trampled into a mire of blood and mud.
Yaien's kin, unversed in the ways of war, scattered in a desperate bid for survival. The air was rent with the sounds of desperation; shrieks of the fallen, the wails of the bereaved, and the guttural grunts of the aggressors. The dark forest floor, once a tapestry of shadow and moss, became slick with the innards of his fallen brethren, a crimson canvas of unspeakable horror. The ironwood thorns, indifferent sentinels, were adorned with fragments of fur and sinew, a testament to the massacre.
In the midst of the carnage, Yaien found himself face to face with the heart of brutality. A demon, more abomination than beast, towered over a group of his kin. Its multiple eyes burned with a hellfire fury, and its maw dripped with the viscera of those it had already claimed. With a heart pounding like a war drum, Yaien leapt forward, his own claws bared, a primal scream tearing from his throat.
The battle was a blur, a dance of death and survival. Yaien's limbs moved with a ferocity he had never known, driven by the raw instinct to protect. He was a blur of motion, a whirlwind of vengeance, his strikes fueled by the very essence of the abyss that birthed him. Each blow he delivered was a dirge for the fallen, each dodge a desperate grasp at life.
When the dust settled, and the last of the invaders had been repelled, the dark forest was no longer a place of kinship and mirth. Bodies lay entwined in the final embrace of death, the soil beneath them a macabre quilt of fur and blood. Yaien stood amidst the devastation, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his fur matted with the lifeblood of friends and foes alike.
(FLASHBACK END)
(FLASHBACK START)
(???)
"Hurry! Take him! Make it fast!"
"He won't make it!"
"This is the only way to save him!"
A crowd of villagers surrounded a little human boy with white wavy hair, his parents carrying him through the village as his body was covered in a red flaming aura. His parents bled from their noses and ears, as they held him, not letting him go.
They ran towards a spiraling red and black portal in the middle of the village, and it was guarded by some knight in all black armor, its armor glistening with black smoke.
They didn't hesitate to give the human boy to the knight, saying, "Please save him…please…"
The unidentified form in the armor replied, "What is his name?"
"…Gunjo."
(FLASHBACK END)
(Present Day)
Yamato exclaimed, "It's tapping through our memories!"
Yaien was in shock, saying, "Why did it remind me of that…? Why-?!"
CLANG!
Gunjo, his skeleton form was covered in a red aura, smoking violently from his body. He had hair now, which was a short wavy white, but still kept his skeleton face and body. He gripped his scythe, and Yamato and Yaien looked at Gunjo.
Gunjo said, "Go."
Yamato replied, "No way pissboy, you—•
THOOM!
Gunjo knocked Yamato and Yaien away with the handle of his scythe, sending them flying hundreds of feet back, landing on the shore on the other side of the ocean.
"AGGHHHH!" They both yelled.
"What's his deal?!" Yaien exclaimed. "He can't fight that thing alone!"
"He must've seen something…an unlocked memory."
Gunjo started to walk on the water, walking towards the Umibozu. The Umibozu smiled once again, as it grew another halo over its head.
Gunjo looked far behind the Umibozu, and in the sky, he saw the sky swirling in a black cloud, and under the cloud, were five giant shadow thrones, each seated with the Five Thrones of the Demonic Order. They just sat there, their faces unseen.
"….You bastards!"
Gunjo walked forward, the system saying:
[System malfunction]
[ERR0R]
[ERR0R]
[Unlocked Secret Skill : Will Of Heaven. Near death, gather the lingering dark energy in the atmosphere of your attacks before, channeling it into your being due to your will. Duration : 30 seconds. Strength buff - 40%. Speed Buff - 40%. Agility buff - 40%]
As the Five Thrones watched, Gunjo's body ignited with the flaming red aura, his presence on the blood ocean an inferno of intent. The Umibozu, a monstrous silhouette against the crimson waves, summoned shadowy weapons, readying for the clash.
The first shadow spike erupted from the ocean, aimed at Gunjo's heart, but with his enhanced speed, he sidestepped, the water sizzling where the spike met his aura. Gunjo lunged forward, his scythe carving fiery arcs through the air. The Umibozu countered with a blood-formed broadsword, the clash sending shockwaves across the ocean. Time slowed, the droplets of blood hanging in the air like rubies. Gunjo's will surged, breaking the temporal chains, and he advanced, his aura burning brighter.
The Umibozu conjured clones of Gunjo, each a mirror of malice. With a whirlwind of strikes, Gunjo's scythe danced, destroying each apparition, their ichor staining the waters. A momentary stillness fell. Gunjo and the Umibozu circled each other, their eyes locked, each anticipating the next explosive movement in this deadly dance. Gunjo erupted, his aura flaring as he launched at the Umibozu, his **Death Punch** aiming to stagger the beast. It connected, and for a moment, the Umibozu reeled.
Recovering swiftly, the Umibozu fashioned shadowy daggers, flinging them at Gunjo with deadly precision. He deflected them with his scythe, sparks flying as metal met shadow.
Gunjo's **Scalding Onset** blistered the sea, his blood turning his scythe into a weapon of conflagration, each strike leaving the Umibozu's shadowy form smoldering. The Umibozu, embracing its dominion over the blood ocean, sent a tsunami of shadowy spikes at Gunjo. With acrobatic agility, he leaped, his aura leaving a trail of flame in the air.
Gunjo descended, his **Scalding Vitality** flaring as he sliced through the towering wave. The blood water hissed and evaporated upon contact with his fiery blood. Landing, Gunjo's aura pulsed, unleashing a shockwave that disrupted the Umibozu's form, its shadowy essence trembling like disturbed water.
Again, time slowed, but Gunjo's aura flared like a beacon, breaking the temporal lock as his scythe swung relentlessly, each blow a streak of red against the dark. Relying on **Reality Sunder**, Gunjo darted underwater, and struck the ground floor, the pulse of his heart shattering the air, a vibration that forced the Umibozu to momentarily lose its shape.
The Umibozu reformed, its shadow hands reaching for Gunjo, attempting to ensnare him. With a roar, he cleaved through them, his strength undeniable.
As Gunjo's aura intensified, he became a living inferno, his speed and power escalating. He rained down a series of blows that scorched the Umibozu's core.
The Umibozu, unrelenting, conjured a legion of shadow spikes from the depths, each one seeking Gunjo's flesh. With precision, he parried and dodged, his movements a red blur. Mirrors of Gunjo emerged once more, but he met his doppelgängers with a relentless assault, his scythe a whirlwind of destruction, shattering the clones into shadowy mist. The blood ocean rose at the Umibozu's command, shadowy lances seeking Gunjo. But he stood firm, his aura repelling the assault, evaporating each lance with a hiss.
Gunjo's scythe moved with deadly grace, each strike a dance of death. The Umibozu, its form flickering, parried with a shadow blade, the impact resonating across the battlefield.
Time's fabric tore once more, the world slowing around Gunjo. With a defiant cry, he shattered the effect, his speed unbound by the laws of physics as he charged, scythe ready to strike true. The Umibozu, summoning the ocean's might, summoned a leviathan of shadows, towering above Gunjo. Gunjo soared upwards, scythe alight, and carved through the behemoth, its form dissipating like smoke.
Gunjo's aura flared with a relentless fury, the air crackling around him. Each step he took left the ocean steaming, his scythe striking with such force that even the Umibozu's shadowy form seemed to flinch. The Umibozu, not to be outdone, coalesced the blood ocean into a massive maw, attempting to swallow Gunjo whole. But Gunjo, using his sp the d teleported from within, appearing above and driving his scythe down, splitting the maw in two.
The Five Thrones, spectating the fight, began to say to each other:
"We stripped him of his power earlier…didn't we?"
"It is strange. How is he performing all of this? A demon king's power comes from the All Mother, which is given to use to give to them, and because of that, no other dark power can merge with their being."
"Unless it's a dark elixir…"
"That witch woman is the only one who can craft them."
"Hmph. He's still no threat to us. We are embodiments off the All Mother."
"Those words are true. Let's leave. The Umibozu will kill him. At least we were entertained."
"The battle caught our attention, just for us to see that it was Gunjo.."
"We must report this to the All Mother."
"No. We won't bother her with such trials. Gunjo will die."
With each blow Gunjo delivered, the Umibozu's shadow form reconstituted, a testament to its resilience. The Umibozu conjured a tempest of blood-blades, a whirlwind of deadly edges. Gunjo's movements became a blur, his scythe deflecting and cutting through the storm, each movement precise and deadly.
As the battle reached its zenith, Gunjo and the Umibozu exchanged a series of rapid, devastating blows, neither yielding. The blood ocean boiled around them, the air filled with the scent of ozone and iron. Gunjo's scythe and the Umibozu's shadowy arsenal clashed with a sound like the world tearing apart, each determined to emerge victorious in this cataclysmic confrontation.
"AGGHHHHHH!" Gunjo screamed as his aura was going away, and his Will of Heaven skill depeleting. He still had his white hair now, but he was pierced through the stomach by the Umibozu, and lifted up into the air.
The Umibozu roared, and Gunjo was split in half by the Umibozu, and his skeleton bones scattered across the water.
[Quest failed]
[You have been defeated]
Adrift in the blood ocean, the once indomitable Gunjo was a disassembled specter of his former self. His skeletal halves floated aimlessly, the tide gently nudging his bones apart, a macabre echo of vulnerability where there once was invincibility. In the eerie silence of the aftermath, a calmness enveloped him, as though the world had paused to bear witness to his downfall.
His head floated, and he said, "I lost…huh? I really lost…"
It began as a whisper in his marrow, the sting of defeat seeping into his consciousness. Gunjo, the demon king who had once stood unchallenged, whose very name trembled the pillars of the underworld, now faced the abyss of his first true defeat. The waters around him were a crimson mirror, reflecting the fractured remains of his pride.
Tears fell from his empty eye sockets, as he said, "Why…? Even with all of that power…I still lost. Fuck…fuck! Fuck! It's embarrassing…humiliating….I had so much confidence a few seconds ago…where the hell did it go?! Why do I feel this way?! To taste real defeat, someone actually beating me horribly? It was different..facing off against the humans. I didn't see myself being defeated, one blink, and I was in the congregation of the Five Thrones, everyone just told me I was beaten..and thus…lead to me getting stripped from my power. Why? Why me? I lived my life to the fullest with so much potential…just to be brought down…who would've imagined..someone like me…scattered across the fucking blood ocean..hoping my body..would reattach itself..and those memories I saw..was that really me?"
Emotions, long foreign to his skeletal heart, began to bubble to the surface, cracking the facade of his once-arrogant demeanor. Humiliation clenched his soul like iron shackles, the weight of embarrassment heavier than any weapon wielded against him. His silent, eternal world was pierced by the echoes of his own ragged thoughts.
Memories of his reign surfaced, an unbroken chain of conquests and triumphs that had defined his existence. Never had an opponent stood before him and not been reduced to dust; never had he been forced to acknowledge the bitter taste of defeat. He had reveled in his power, basked in the fear he instilled, and yet, in this moment, the realization of his own limitations crashed down upon him like the relentless waves of the blood ocean.
And yet, beneath the crushing tide of defeat, there was an unexpected sensation—something he had never anticipated could stem from failure: satisfaction. It was a perverse, unsettling feeling, but it was there, undeniable in its presence. For the first time, Gunjo had crossed blades with a force that could shatter his own, a challenge that pushed him beyond the limits he had known.