The battlefield was a microwave.
And someone had hit the popcorn button five times too many.
Ash floated down like anime sakura petals, if sakura petals smelled like grilled corpses and molten rock. Everything was either on fire, melting, or crying for help.
Ishigo stared at the three Shikibans across the field, whose faces looked like they ate charcoal for breakfast and smiled like it tasted good.
"Bro," Daigo muttered, sweat dripping like ramen soup. "Why are they all smiling like they paid for premium suffering?"
Yeaga shrugged, eyes tracking their movements like a cat watching a laser pointer. "Maybe we're the laser. Maybe we're the mice. Who knows anymore."
The Shikibans stepped forward. Their skin flickered with living fire. Literal walking infernos. One cracked his knuckles. Another stretched his neck like this was just Zumba warm-up.
Ishigo's fingers curled around his katana. The blade shook slightly—not from fear. From pressure. Heat pressure.
"If we stop now," he said through gritted teeth, "they'll bury us alive."
"Dibs on the tall one," Daigo whispered.
"Dibs on not dying," Yeaga replied.
But the humor evaporated quickly.
Because the Shikibans weren't just cocky—they knew they were Level 4 threats. They had that energy. That "we-killed-before-breakfast" energy.
Ishigo inhaled slowly.
Then—
"Blue Flame Requiem."
His voice rang with finality.
Blue fire erupted from his palms like divine liquid, rushing over the steel of his katana until it gleamed like justice itself. The flames didn't roar—they hummed like a requiem for the damned.
One Shikiban stepped forward, unimpressed. "Blue flames? That's cute. Wanna see what hellfire looks like?"
He gestured lazily—and the air ignited.
Fire roared to life around him, swallowing the earth.
Ishigo disappeared.
BOOM.
He lunged—blade first—through the sea of flames, katana slicing heat like butter.
"Flame Technique: Blazebind Mirage!" the Shikiban bellowed.
A burning spiral shot forward, red and furious.
Ishigo clashed into it mid-air. Blue met red. Heavenfire met Hellfire.
The sky cracked. The ground screamed.
With a thunderous shockwave, blue overpowered crimson.
"NOW, ISHIGO!" Daigo shouted.
But the Shikiban wasn't done playing.
"Crimson Howl Funeral."
Flames erupted like a dragon's roar. A wall of solid fire.
Ishigo brought his blade down—
CLANG.
It struck something solid.
Fire had turned to molten armor.
Before he could pull back—
WHAM!
The Shikiban's boot found his stomach. Ishigo flew, smashing into a stone wall like a ragdoll in a hurricane.
Cracks spread out behind him.
Blood dripped from his lips.
The Shikiban walked toward him, fire spiraling around his fist. "We're not equals, brat. We are Flame Masters."
Ishigo pushed himself up, vision blurring.
"I'm not a master yet," he muttered. "But I will be."
The Shikiban raised an eyebrow. "How heroic."
Then a voice cut through the heat like a cold knife.
"How dare you touch my brother."
Everything froze.
Even the flames.
The Shikiban turned.
Daigo stood, eyes glowing—golden like judgment day.
The Shikiban squinted. "You sound like his girlfriend."
Daigo smirked. "I'm straight. But he's my brother. My best friend. My everything."
Yeaga walked past with a slow clap. "That was… that was emotional, bro. Kinda poetic."
He paused. His smirk faded.
The heat changed.
It wasn't normal fire anymore.
It was grief. Rage. A storm.
Daigo's body trembled.
His fists clenched.
His heart cracked open.
"I already failed once…"
FLASHBACK.
A burning village.
Children screaming.
A younger Daigo holding a boy's hand.
"Hayashi, run!"
The boy ran—
SHING.
A blade pierced his chest.
"B-Broth—"
Gone.
NOW.
The memory unlocked something.
BOOM.
A grey vortex burst from Daigo's back—Crystel energy. It shimmered like shattered glass, shaped into a howling wolf towering behind him.
Ishigo blinked. "A spirit form…?!"
The Shikibans froze.
"That's… Crystel Grey…" one whispered.
Daigo vanished.
CRACK.
He appeared beside the nearest Shikiban.
His katana pulsed with grey flame. His eyes glowed like miniature suns.
The Shikiban barely opened his mouth.
He never got to scream.
SHHHINK.
His body exploded—cut into ribbons by Daigo's slash.
The others took a step back.
Yeaga whistled softly. "...That's our Daigo."
Daigo stood still, breathing hard.
"The game's not over," he said.
Then smirked.
"Let's make it crazier."
The remaining Shikibans charged.
Yeaga cracked his knuckles. "Finally."
His body blurred into motion—his calm mask gone.
Ishigo stood up, wiping blood off his chin. His katana still glowed.
All three stood together.
Daigo. Ishigo. Yeaga.
Flames burned.
Dust rose.
Music would be playing if this was an anime opening—probably something with violins, screaming vocals, and a guy shouting "FAITH! DESPAIR! REBIRTH!"
Together, they lunged.