The Last Bargain

Chapter XLIX: Bishamonten's Clash

Zento's heart raced as he prepared for another assault on Bishamonten, his muscles burning from the repeated bursts of speed. Every time he closed the distance, Bishamonten seemed to grow faster, more accurate. The hulking god of war was learning with each exchange, his movements tightening as he adapted to Zento's unpredictable attacks.

Zento wiped the sweat from his brow, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He couldn't keep this up much longer. He's figuring me out, he thought. If I don't end this soon, he'll predict every move I make.

Bishamonten's towering form loomed over the battlefield, his naginata gleaming in the strange light of the gods' domain. The god of war looked down at Zento, his eyes filled with a cold, calculating intensity. "You are fast, mortal," Bishamonten growled, his voice like thunder. "But speed alone will not save you."

Zento narrowed his eyes, circling the god cautiously, keeping his movements erratic. "Let's see if you can keep up with me," he muttered, though he could feel his legs beginning to tremble. He was pushing his limits, and he knew it.

Without warning, Zento launched himself forward again, his body a blur as he shot toward Bishamonten's side. This time, he zigzagged in mid-air, changing direction at the last second to avoid the god's sweeping naginata. He landed a quick punch to Bishamonten's armored back, but the impact barely registered against the god's thick plating.

Before Zento could retreat, Bishamonten spun, his massive hand sweeping through the air with terrifying speed. Zento barely dodged, feeling the rush of wind as the god's hand missed his face by mere inches. He landed a few feet away, his heart pounding in his chest.

He almost got me again. Zento wiped the blood from his cut leg, feeling the sting from the earlier near miss. I can't let him corner me.

"Your speed is impressive," Bishamonten said, straightening. "But you have grown predictable. You are running out of tricks."

Zento's mind raced as he tried to come up with a new strategy. Bishamonten wasn't just physically powerful—he was learning with each exchange, adapting to Zento's patterns. And Zento knew that the god's patience wouldn't last forever. One mistake, one moment of hesitation, and Bishamonten would end him.

But Zento couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let the gods win. Not after everything they had fought for.

He forced himself to focus. Stay unpredictable. Don't let him read you.

Zento took a deep breath and shot forward again, this time using his full speed. He blurred across the battlefield, his body almost invisible as he zigzagged around Bishamonten, delivering quick strikes to the god's back and sides. He aimed for the gaps in Bishamonten's armor, but even with his incredible speed, his punches barely dented the god's defenses.

Bishamonten grunted, annoyed but undeterred. He swung his naginata in a wide arc, cutting through the air with frightening speed, but Zento ducked under the blade and struck again, this time landing a kick to the back of Bishamonten's knee. The god staggered slightly but didn't fall.

Zento pushed himself harder, his body moving faster than ever. His heart pounded in his chest as he zipped around Bishamonten, striking and retreating, never staying in one place for more than a second.

But then, something changed.

As Zento darted in for another strike, Bishamonten's naginata swung down with perfect timing, catching Zento off guard. The god's blade wasn't aimed at where Zento was—it was aimed at where Zento was going to be.

Zento barely managed to twist his body at the last second, but the blade still grazed his shoulder, tearing through his shirt and leaving a shallow cut. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock.