The two fists collided head-on.
For a split second, it felt like the world itself had stopped breathing.
The rotating drill of blood around Hirito's arm screamed under the pressure, fissures racing through it before it finally shattered apart, dispersing into droplets that evaporated in the air. The clash didn't end there—both fists remained locked as raw force detonated outward, the ground beneath them collapsing into a widening crater.
Stone buckled. Air screamed. The island groaned.
Hirito laughed through it.
Hirito: Good! Keep showing me a good time! Let's amp this up!
He leapt back in a spray of dust and blood, landing lightly as crimson liquid surged around his body. It hardened in an instant, encasing him in jagged, layered armor that looked more grown than forged. Plates overlapped like muscle fibers, pulsing faintly with life.
He grinned.
Takeshi didn't hesitate.
For the first time since the fight began, he wasn't reacting—he was acting.
Takeshi: void! Slash!
He swung his arm.
Three compressed blades of air tore forward in intersecting arcs, screaming through the battlefield fast enough to distort the light around them.
Hirito: Good!
Blood surged from his gauntlets, shaping into long, vicious claws. He tore straight through the slashes, shredding them apart mid-flight without breaking stride.
But Takeshi had already moved.
He lifted his leg, twisting his hips, Haki roaring through his body.
Takeshi: Void!
His heel came down.
Takeshi: Slicer!
A massive crescent of compressed force ripped across the ground, carving a trench as it rushed toward Hirito like a guillotine. Hirito raised one armored hand and caught it head-on.
The impact boomed.
For a moment, it looked like he'd stopped it completely—but the pressure kept building, pushing him back inch by inch. Cracks spider-webbed across his gauntlet. Fragments broke off and clattered to the ground.
The attack finally dissipated.
Silence—just for a heartbeat.
A thin trickle of blood slid from Hirito's palm.
He stared at it.
Something inside him snapped.
His lips slowly peeled back into a wide, feral grin, revealing sharp, animal teeth. The armor around his body shifted, flowing and reshaping as he dropped into a low, predatory stance. Blood formed claws around his hands and feet, horns rising from his head, his silhouette warping into something savage and inhuman.
His eyes lost all trace of reason.
This was why he was called the Bloody Wolf.
Not because of how many he'd killed.
Not because of his devil fruit.
But because when he fought—
He stopped being human.
Hirito: you've gone and done it now, pup, I'll show you something neat before I put you six feet under!
In a flash of red, he vanished.
Takeshi's instincts screamed.
He turned—
