The Last Bargain

Chapter XXXV: The Clash Of Willpower

The sound of clashing footsteps and taunting voices echoed through the courtyard, but Zento barely heard them. The burning heat in his body pulsed with each heartbeat, his skin feeling like it was about to split open. His legs trembled beneath him, but he fought to remain upright, refusing to let his clan see him collapse again.

I need to push through... he thought, his teeth clenched. I can't give up now...

Then, from the edge of the courtyard, a blur shot into view. In an instant, two knives flew through the air, slicing past Zento's shoulder. He barely registered the glint of steel before they struck two of the Dassou clan warriors squarely in their chests, shattering their forms into shards of glass that scattered into the mist.

"What?!" one of the clan members shouted, stumbling back in shock.

Shin landed lightly beside Zento, his eyes fierce and focused. "Looks like I'm right on time," he muttered, a confident smirk on his lips. He surveyed the warriors surrounding them, their faces a mix of surprise and anger.

Another warrior lunged at him, but Shin moved before they could even complete the motion, his body flowing like water, effortlessly avoiding their strike. He pivoted and executed a swift elbow strike to the warrior's side, a perfect mimicry of the moves he had seen his mirror self use. The warrior's form flickered, then shattered into a thousand pieces, disappearing into the mist like the others.

Zento stared in astonishment. "Shin... how—?"

Shin didn't look back, his gaze fixed on the remaining warriors. "I faced my own weaknesses," he replied, his voice steady. "I stared them down, and I overcame them. Now, it's your turn."

He moved with purpose, weaving through the remaining clan members, each movement fluid, every step precise. The warriors came at him one by one, but Shin was ready for them. He copied the techniques he had seen in his trial—moves that his mirror self had used against him—taking down warrior after warrior with a speed and agility that seemed almost supernatural.

One came at him from behind with a flurry of strikes. Shin ducked and countered with a swift, spinning kick that connected with the warrior's jaw, sending him sprawling. Another rushed from the side, but Shin sidestepped and delivered a palm strike to their chest, shattering their form like the others.

Zento could only watch in awe as Shin cut through the warriors with relentless precision. He felt a mixture of relief and frustration—relief that his friend was here to help, but frustration at his own helplessness.

Shin moved to Zento's side, panting slightly but still full of energy. "You see, Zento?" he said, his voice filled with conviction. "We're all weak in some way, but that doesn't mean we give up. We fight because we must."

Zento nodded slowly, feeling a flicker of hope stir within him. "I... I understand," he murmured, trying to steady his breath. "But... these are my clan members. How do I...?"

Shin gave him a quick, reassuring glance. "You don't have to do it alone," he said, turning back to face the warriors. "You just need to keep fighting."

More clan members charged at them, their faces hard with determination. Shin leapt forward to meet them, his body moving with practiced ease, his hands and feet striking like lightning. Each hit was precise, calculated—he was pushing them back, one by one, refusing to give ground.

But then, the ground seemed to tremble beneath them, and a new figure stepped forward from the crowd. Zento felt a chill run down his spine as he saw his father, Takeshi Dassou, emerge from the shadows, his face stern and unreadable.

"Father..." Zento whispered, feeling his heart tighten in his chest.

Takeshi's eyes locked onto Shin, his expression cold and unimpressed. "You think you can fight my warriors so easily?" he asked, his voice low but commanding. "Let's see how you fare against me."

Shin didn't hesitate. He sprang forward, launching himself at Takeshi with a flurry of strikes. But Takeshi moved with impossible speed, his body a blur as he dodged Shin's attacks effortlessly. Before Shin could react, Takeshi closed the distance between them and struck him in the chest with a palm strike so fast it was nearly invisible.

The impact sent Shin flying backward, crashing into the far wall of the courtyard with a loud thud. The air left Shin's lungs in a painful gasp, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand back up, his body shaking from the blow.

Takeshi remained motionless, his eyes narrowed. "Stay down," he commanded, his voice hard. "This is not your fight."

But Shin shook his head, his gaze fierce. "I won't abandon Zento," he replied, his voice hoarse but firm. "Not when he needs me."

He charged forward again, pushing his body to its limits. Takeshi's form blurred once more, moving too quickly for Shin to see. In a blink, Takeshi was beside him, delivering a swift kick to Shin's side, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Shin grunted in pain, but he refused to stay down. He pushed himself back up, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with determination. "I won't stop," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I will fight."

Takeshi's expression remained cold. "You're persistent," he said, "but that won't save you."

He moved again, his speed astonishing. Shin tried to anticipate his movements, tried to counter, but Takeshi was too fast. Another blow landed, then another, each one sending shockwaves of pain through Shin's body, but he refused to fall.

Zento watched, his heart pounding, frustration and fear building inside him. Shin... you're going to get yourself killed... he thought, his hands clenching into fists. He could feel the heat in his body starting to dissipate, the intense burn slowly cooling down. He knew he was almost ready to move again, almost ready to fight.

Shin stumbled, catching himself just before he fell. "Come on, old man," he taunted, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Is that all you've got?"

Takeshi's eyes flashed with annoyance, and he charged again, his movements so fast they seemed to warp the air around him. Shin braced himself, knowing the attack was coming but unable to stop it. He felt the impact as Takeshi's fist connected with his stomach, the force lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing into the ground once more.

Zento felt a surge of panic. "Shin!" he shouted, his voice filled with fear.

Shin groaned, trying to rise again, his body shaking. "I... won't... stop..." he muttered, his voice strained but determined.

Zento's breathing steadied, his mind sharpening. He felt the last of the heat leave his body, his muscles cooling, his strength returning. He knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath, lowering himself into a running stance, his eyes locking onto his father.

It's time, he thought, feeling the power building inside him. Time to fight back.

The courtyard seemed to grow quieter, the tension in the air thickening as Zento prepared to move. He could feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in his ears. He knew this was his moment—his chance to prove himself. 

Zento assumed a running stance.

He was ready.