Chapter 8: Frevage General Deidara-bachi!
Daito trusted his right hand more than the people around him.
Full body rotation.
Muscle, bone, intent, training, memory.
CLASH!
SWOOSH!
BRRMMM!
The punch detonated against the Frevage's face.
The shockwave was enormous.
Air rippled outward like ocean waves struck by a fallen mountain.
The monster's skull tilted violently.
PSSSH! PSSSH!
Black blood sprayed in a horizontal arc.
The Frevage roared in rage.
CLANG! CLANG!
Chains erupted from its spine like awakening volcanic snakes.
Twenty chains at once.
The courtyard was ripped apart.
CRASH! SPIN!
Cars lifted into the air.
ZRRINGG!
Metal benches bent into twisted sculptures.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Broken pipes floated briefly before being smashed again by chaotic force.
Daito spoke quietly through the destruction.
"A man does what he has to do…"
He stepped forward.
"…to get the job done."
SWOOSH!
GRAB!
He grabbed a massive steel construction beam lying half-buried in rubble.
Pulled.
Veins bulged across his arm.
Then swung the beam like a divine war hammer.
Impact.
BANG! CRASH!
The Frevage's torso cratered inward.
Chain tendrils burst in random directions like broken mechanical nerves.
The General was laughing.
Black eyes wide.
Insane.
Ecstatic.
"You are beautiful, Greyhell!"
"You fight like a man who refuses Savagery!"
The battle had reached a problematic state.
The town itself trembled.
The sky felt lower.
The war felt inevitable.
And Daito—
Was still standing.
The battlefield went silent for one heartbeat.
Then another.
The Frevage roared.
PSSSH! CLANG! RATTLE!
Chains fused into one horrifying mass around its right arm.
Spikes protruded like the teeth of a living storm.
Every ounce of corrupted Savage-Freaker energy inside it condensed into a single strike.
It screamed Daito's name.
"DAITO!!!"
The ground beneath it cracked like glass under heavy pressure.
Daito stood straight.
Breathing slowly.
Blood ran down his arm.
Muscles tightened under scar tissue.
He remembered "Project A.B.I.G.A.I.L".
Not fear.
Lesson.
The Frevage swung.
The giant spiked arm smashed forward with mega-sonic kinetic force.
SWOOSH! FWOOSH!
Air exploded outward.
Dust and rubble were blasted backwards like artillery fire.
Daito moved.
Left hand.
Not right.
He had learned something from fighting A.B.I.G.A.I.L.
Power did not always mean dominance.
Sometimes it meant adaptability.
His left fist carried everything—
War veteran technique.
Unbroken will.
Training.
Pain.
Survival.
CLASH! BRMMM!
The two attacks collided.
The Shockwave
The impact detonated.
Sound itself fractured.
A massive spherical shockwave expanded outward.
Buildings that were already damaged collapsed instantly.
Street pavement rose like ocean waves frozen mid-surge.
Windows kilometers away shattered simultaneously.
Trees were ripped sideways.
Dust swallowed the battlefield.
Inside the chaos—
Daito acted.
He had been waiting.
He ignored the collision aftermath.
He charged energy into his right hand.
Muscles contracted violently.
Blood vessels tightened.
Bone structure aligned under pressure.
Then—
He struck.....
THWACK!
The Frevage was caught completely off guard.
The right-hand strike hit its chest directly.
BWOOSH! SPLATTER! PSSSH!
The Frevage's giant arm shattered first.
Bone-like biological structure exploded outward in splintering fragments.
Then its chest cavity collapsed inward like a crushed mountain.
Chain tentacles burst apart randomly, losing biological coherence.
PSSSH!
Black blood sprayed outward in violent arcs.
CRACK! TWISHH!
The monster's internal energy core ruptured.
SWOOSH!
FWOOSH!
Smoke exploded from the wound.
The entire battlefield was swallowed by thick gray-black dust.
Silence followed.
The kind that comes after something truly terrible dies.
From inside the smoke—
A shadow moved.
Slow.
Steady.
Head high.
STEP! STEP!
Daito Greyhell walked forward.
His jacket torn.
Blood staining ripped white and purple leather.
In his hand—
The severed head of the Frevage General, Deidara-bachi.
Nagare could not speak.
Tasao's mouth was slightly open.
Zumi exhaled slowly.
The Woman in White closed her eyes briefly.
Daito's mother covered her mouth.
Not in horror.
In relief.
Daito raised the head above him.
The wind began pushing dust away from his figure.
He inhaled deeply.
Then—
From the bottom of his lungs—
"AAAOOOOUU!!"
He released a war cry.
Not anger alone.
Not victory alone.
But everything.
Pain.
Training.
Father's teachings.
Town suffering.
Battle exhaustion.
Defiance against the system that created this world.
The cry echoed across broken streets.
Across ruined buildings.
Across silent survivors watching from shelters.
War had been won here.
Because systems do not die when generals fall.
They adapt.
* * *
The dust was still settling when footsteps echoed across the broken street.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Familiar.
Soldier Nagare walked forward.
Beside him—
Daito Greyhell's mother.
Her wrists were no longer bound.
Nagare had released her.
He stopped a few meters away from Daito.
Then spoke quietly.
"I told them I would guard her."
Nagare glanced sideways.
"They agreed."
Silence followed.
Then he stepped aside slightly.
Daito's mother walked forward immediately.
She reached him and hugged him tightly.
Blood.
Dust.
Smoke.
War.
None of it mattered.
"You're late," she whispered.
Daito did not answer immediately.
He allowed the hug.
Then she stepped back.
Her eyes were wet but steady.
Nagare stared at the ground briefly.
Then spoke.
"You were right."
The words were heavy.
"I let hatred decide my path."
He clenched his fist slightly.
"But I still believe the NBA is responsible for what this world has become."
Pause.
"I don't regret fighting."
Another pause.
"But I regret how it happened."
He looked directly at Daito.
"You killed both Generals and Lieutenant."
"Yes."
"You destroyed our base."
"Yes."
Nagare nodded slowly.
"You've changed."
Daito answered quietly.
"So have you."
Nagare's jaw tightened.
There was something painful inside his expression.
"You're stronger now."
Long silence.
Then—
"I remember when we trained behind the market."
Nagare's voice softened slightly.
"You were always faster."
"But I was always louder."
A faint, almost invisible smile touched Daito's lips.
Nagare spoke again.
"I don't understand you."
"You fight for the NBA."
"You hate what they represent."
"You kill people who are victims of the same system."
His voice grew quieter.
"Do you think this world will be saved by blade and blood?"
Daito did not answer immediately.
Wind moved across the battlefield.
Ash drifted.
Far away, fires continued burning.
Then Daito spoke.
Slow.
Measured.
Father's memory inside his tone.
"A man does what he has to do, to get the job done."
Nagare closed his eyes briefly.
"You sound like him."
Silence.
Then Nagare said something softer.
"Do you still think I'm wrong?"
Daito looked at him.
"No."
Nagare's eyes widened slightly.
"But I won't join you."
Nagare nodded slowly.
"I expected that."
Nagare walked closer.
Lowered his voice.
"Do you know what hurts the most?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
"We both wanted to save people."
"But we chose different definitions of salvation."
Nagare smiled faintly.
Tired.
Not victorious.
Not defeated.
Just tired.
He extended his hand.
Not as enemy.
Not as soldier.
As childhood friend.
"As long as you are alive, Greyhell…"
"…the world still has a chance to choose."
Daito looked at the hand.
Then shook it once.
Firm.
Short.
Respectful.
Nagare turned away.
Started walking.
"Where are you going?" Daito asked.
Nagare answered without looking back.
"To find another way."
Pause.
"If I can't destroy the system…"
"…maybe I can change it from inside."
Daito's mother spoke quietly.
"He still cares about people."
"Yes," Daito replied.
"He just doesn't trust them."
Nagare stopped briefly in the distance.
Then said one last thing.
"Be careful, Daito."
"The Lieutenants are not finished."
"The NBA is not finished."
"And the world you are standing on…"
"…is older than both of us."
He disappeared into the smoke.
Daito stood beside his mother.
Sword resting against his shoulder.
Blood drying slowly under evening wind.
Victory had been achieved.
But war had only deepened.
to be continued....