"You shameless bastard! You've got a death wish!"
The moment Ren Kuroda's words left his mouth, Enma's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and fury. In the next instant, she vanished from where she stood—only to reappear right in front of him, launching into a relentless barrage of attacks.
Seeing her react so explosively, Ren was momentarily stunned.
That line he'd just thrown out—about catching a glimpse beneath her high-slit robe—had been nothing more than stubborn bravado, a last-ditch attempt to save face.
The truth was, his earlier lapse had absolutely been caused by the shock to his soul.
And the damage to his spirit was, if anything, even worse than Enma had assumed.
He couldn't afford to forget—
Both Half-Oni Transformation and the power of "All the World's Evil" were double-edged swords.
The former, at least, was something he had long since mastered, so it wasn't likely to spiral out of control anytime soon.
But the latter…
If his soul were to weaken further—if it took too much damage—then a complete loss of control, a descent into full corruption, would be inevitable.
The soul and the mind were directly linked.
If his soul grew unstable, his will and mental state would follow.
And it wouldn't just affect "All the World's Evil."
Even something as comparatively stable as his Half-Oni Transformation could turn against him if his soul deteriorated past a certain point.
In front of him, Enma's long, pale legs moved like a storm.
Each kick was precise, elegant—and devastating.
Under normal circumstances, Ren might have indulged himself, appreciating the view while verifying his earlier claim—whether or not she was really wearing nothing beneath that slit robe.
But now?
With her legs slicing through the air, each strike detonating into a sonic boom—
All Ren could do was retreat.
Dodge.
Weave left and right, barely carving out space to survive.
He had no reliable counter to Enma's ability.
He didn't even dare use his divine blade to block.
An ordinary weapon might have been fine.
But his sword—Shin'yū—possessed a spirit of its own.
And since Enma's kicks struck directly at the soul, there was no guarantee the blade's spirit wouldn't be damaged if he used it to intercept her attacks.
Ren wasn't willing to take that risk.
Not even for a second.
In past battles, he had always been the one forcing opponents into close combat.
This time, however—
He was the one desperately creating distance.
"So those bold words earlier were just empty bravado?" Enma's voice rang out, tinged with irritation as another sweeping kick narrowly missed, forcing Ren to lean back to avoid it. "If all you can do is run, you'll never take your friend out of Yomi."
Her expression had begun to show clear impatience.
From the moment she'd launched into this assault, she had already thrown out well over a hundred kicks. The storm of attacks had raged on for several full minutes.
The battlefield bore the scars of her onslaught—cracked earth everywhere, massive craters littering the ground.
But as her anger cooled, Enma realized something was wrong.
Her Soul-Shattering Kick was powerful—but it consumed a considerable amount of yokai energy.
After that relentless barrage, her reserves—both yokai and divine—had noticeably diminished.
And yet—
She hadn't landed a single clean hit.
Not one.
Ren's reflexes… his instincts…
They were absurd.
Enma didn't consider herself a close-combat specialist, but at her level—especially with her soul-targeting kicks—she had always been confident in her leg techniques.
And yet, since the fight began, she hadn't connected even once.
If not for Ren's clear wariness of her soul-based attacks, she couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if he chose to engage her head-on.
And that—
That made her furious.
His infuriating face was right there, within reach—
And yet she couldn't smash it in with a single kick.
"Chariot of thunder, spinning wheel of light—divide into six and bind! Hadō No. 61: Six Rods Prison of Light!"
Even as he continued to dodge, Ren began chanting under his breath, completely ignoring Enma's taunts.
With a flick of his index finger—
Six golden rods of light materialized around Enma, converging instantly and locking her body in place.
Even with a fully incanted Level 61 binding spell, Ren had no illusions about holding her for long.
But he didn't need long.
Just enough to break her momentum.
The moment Enma was restrained, Ren kicked off the ground and leapt into the air. Extending his right hand forward, he began a rapid incantation once more.
"Bones of beasts scattered across the heavens, crimson crystal tower, steel chariot—movement is wind, stillness is void—spears clash, their echoes filling the empty city…"
As he chanted, vast amounts of yokai energy surged and transformed—
Into crackling strands of golden lightning, brimming with destructive force, gathering in his palm.
At first, the forming sphere was no larger than his hand.
But as more power poured into it—
It grew.
Expanded at a visible rate.
Enma governed the dead.
And Kidō, the combat art of soul reapers, was inherently designed to affect spiritual entities.
In that sense—
This was the perfect counter.
For an ordinary practitioner, even a fully incanted Level 63 spell—Raikōhō—would produce a sphere no larger than a basketball.
But Ren was anything but ordinary.
With his immense reserves of yokai energy—and the countless enhancements from his various "system" attributes—
The sphere in his hand swelled rapidly.
Ten meters.
Twenty.
Thirty—
Until it reached a staggering diameter of fifty meters.
Even within the pitch-black expanse of the Innate Domain, the massive sphere of lightning shone like a miniature sun, illuminating everything around it.
Golden arcs of electricity lashed wildly, each stray bolt carving scorched trenches into the ground below.
Seeing the colossal sphere forming in Ren's hand—
Enma froze.
For the first time, genuine shock crossed her face.
She had never imagined that a half-yokai like him could wield human exorcism techniques—and at such a terrifying level.
The sheer scale of that attack sent a chill down her spine.
Instinctively, she tried to move—tried to escape—
But the golden rods binding her body held firm, restricting her every motion.
"Kidō isn't like ordinary onmyō spells," Ren called down coldly from above. "It strikes the soul directly."
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Call this returning the favor."
"Now—take it."
"Hadō No. 63: Raikōhō!"
The massive sphere of lightning—fifty meters in diameter—
Came crashing down from the sky.
Its descent was like a miniature sun falling to earth.
Though it was technically a Level 63 spell, under Ren's overwhelming output, its power had long since surpassed its original limits.
Even high-level spells above Level 90—
Even those cast by elite captains—
Would struggle to match the sheer destructive force of what he had just unleashed.