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ρєαкωєѕт 2 | 𝘼𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙙𝙙 𝙑𝙨 𝙒𝙖𝙡𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖

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Muzan remained on his knees, his laughter echoing across the battlefield like a madman's symphony. His eyes gleamed with a twisted pleasure as he locked onto Nero, who stood firm, unimpressed by the spectacle Muzan was putting on.

Muzan: "Nero... why did you save me?"

"Don’t you think I’ve killed Kazuto?"

Alan, enraged, began to sprint toward Muzan, his sword drawn, ready to strike again. His steps echoed with fury.

But before Alan could close the distance, Mike grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

Mike: "ALAN!"

"THAT’S ENOUGH!"

Alan stopped in his tracks, stunned, his breathing heavy.

His eyes darted between Mike and Muzan, frustration and confusion swirling in his mind.

Yuki, who had just risen to his feet, looked around, clutching his wound. His voice was soft but carried the weight of the moment.

Yuki: "Walhallas Clan..."

From the distance, Greymor approached, walking with authority.

Behind him, 90 members of the Walhallas Clan followed in disciplined silence, their expressions serious, ready for whatever might come.

Muzan, still on his knees, laughed again, this time more maniacally.

Muzan: "A war on me?"

His laughter turned more psychopathic, echoing in the ears of everyone present.

Nero remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the chaos around him. He took a deep breath and spoke with a cold, cutting tone.

Nero: "Why…"

"Why can’t even a single one of you act normal?"

His eyes scanned the battlefield.

Nero: "Y’all are freaking psychos. Crazy. Mad. Sadistic beings."

He paused, his gaze shifting to Muzan.

Nero: "What did Kazuto ever do to you, Muzan?"

Muzan smirked, the corners of his mouth curling with dark amusement.

Muzan: "You might want to ask Kazuto that yourself."

Greymor, with his unflinching presence, interrupted the exchange.

Greymor: "That's enough for now, Muzan. You're on your knees now."

He turned to Alan, gesturing towards Muzan.

Greymor: "I told you, AlanJoel would do it. He would bring you down, Muzan."

For a moment, the tension seemed to settle, but in Muzan's mind, wheels were still turning. He was calculating, thinking of his next move.

[ Narrator:

Muzan's thoughts were already two steps ahead. Everything was going as he had planned, down to the last detail. The confrontation, the arrival of Greymor—it all followed his guide. ]

Muzan’s eyes glinted with a hidden resolve as he turned his head toward Kind, who stood quietly to the side, observing.

Without a word, Kind threw the announcer speaker towards Muzan, who caught it with a grin.

Muzan slowly rose to his feet, raising the speaker to his mouth.

Muzan: "I DECLARE WAR ON THE WALHALLAS CLAN!"

The words rang out across the battlefield, sending a chill down the spine of every warrior present.

Muzan: "AND I UNALLY WITH THE HEAVENLYS!"

The declaration hit hard. This wasn’t just a battle anymore—it was a war.

The moment Muzan’s words ended, Nero stepped forward, his gaze intense, focusing on Muzan with a deadly precision. His voice carried a weight that silenced the entire field.

"Eternal Eyes."

Suddenly, the air around Nero shifted. It was as if the world itself began to bend to his will. He spoke again, the words flowing like an incantation.

"Ladder of claws."

"Bare fangs."

"Eternal darkness."

"Infinity leap."

With each phrase, the atmosphere darkened, the tension growing thicker.

And then, Nero spoke the final command, his voice dropping into a whisper that could shake the foundations of the battlefield.

Nero: "Force Field."

Narrator:

[ Force Field wasn't a superpower or an unexplainable phenomenon—it was a finely honed technique built on precise movements, mental clarity, and unmatched battle sense. Nero had mastered this technique over years of intense training and combat experience. The essence of the technique wasn't just about defense, but control. ]

[ Force Field Technique Explanation:

Narrator:

The Force Field technique wasn’t about creating an impenetrable barrier from nothing. Instead, it was the perfect synchronization of body and environment. By manipulating the space around him, Nero created a defensive perimeter that responded to his every movement.

At the core of the Force Field technique was Nero’s ability to read and react to the movements of his opponents in real time. Every shift in the wind, every step on the ground, was calculated and redirected.
 
Nero used the force and momentum of his enemies against them. His movements created ripples in the air, which, when timed correctly, acted as barriers that deflected attacks or trapped opponents within invisible boundaries.

The true strength of Force Field lay in its precision. It wasn’t an all-encompassing shield, but a series of micro-movements that made Nero untouchable in combat. Every punch, kick, or sword strike aimed at him would be redirected, nullified by a perfectly timed step or shift in posture.

The battlefield seemed to warp around Nero as the Force Field activated.

The air hummed with tension, and for a moment, everyone—Greymor, Alan, even Muzan—paused in awe of the sheer control Nero displayed.

Muzan chuckled darkly, but there was a hint of acknowledgment in his eyes. He knew that Nero was unlike anyone he had faced before.

Nero stepped forward, the Force Field moving with him like an invisible barrier of calculated perfection.

Muzan grinned.

Muzan: "So, this is how it’s going to be…"

But Nero didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on Muzan, and the weight of the upcoming war hung heavy in the air.

Chapter End.

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