Chapter 8: Frevage General Deidara-bachi!
Daito trusted his right hand more than he trusted the people around him.
It had never betrayed him.
Every scar across his knuckles carried a memory, and every movement contained years of training, pain, failure, and survival. When he fought, his body no longer needed to think about what came next. Muscle remembered what the mind had learned. Bone remembered impact. Instinct remembered danger. And beneath all of it was the memory of the man who had taught him that strength meant nothing without purpose.
Daito planted his foot firmly against the fractured ground and rotated his entire body.
His shoulder turned first.
Then his torso.
His hips followed.
Every muscle contracted in perfect sequence as the force of his movement traveled from the ground, through his legs, across his spine, and finally into his right arm.
The Frevage raised its head too late.
Daito's fist connected with its face.
CLAAAAAAAAASH!
The impact detonated like a bomb.
BRRMMMM!
A colossal shockwave erupted from the point of contact, sending the surrounding air rippling outward in circular waves. Dust and broken pieces of concrete were thrown away from them, while the remaining windows of nearby structures trembled violently in their frames.
The Frevage's enormous skull snapped sideways.
PSSSH!
Black blood sprayed from its mouth.
PSSSH!
More of the dark substance burst from its nose and cheek as its body staggered backward.
For a moment, the monster appeared stunned.
Then it smiled.
A horrible, delighted smile.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Its roar shook the battlefield.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The chains embedded along its spine suddenly began moving.
At first, they rattled beneath its skin.
Then they erupted outward.
FWOOSH!
Twenty chains burst from the Frevage's back simultaneously, twisting through the air like enormous metallic serpents that had just awakened from centuries of sleep.
They struck everything around them.
CRASH!
A parked vehicle was lifted from the ground and hurled through the air.
ZRRRINGG!
Metal benches bent violently beneath the pressure before being ripped from their foundations.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Broken pipes and construction materials were thrown upward, suspended for a fraction of a second before the chains smashed them apart.
The courtyard was being torn to pieces.
Daito stood in the center of it.
Dust whipped around his body as the chains continued destroying everything within reach.
He slowly raised his eyes toward the Frevage.
"A man does what he has to do..."
His voice was quiet enough that the monster's roar almost swallowed it.
Daito took a step forward.
"...to get the job done."
Then he moved.
SWOOSH!
He disappeared through the dust.
The Frevage's chains snapped toward the location where he had been standing.
CLANG!
Nothing.
The monster turned too late.
Daito emerged from its side and reached down toward the rubble. His fingers closed around something enormous.
A steel construction beam lay half-buried beneath the remains of the destroyed dormitory.
Daito grabbed it with both hands.
GRIP!
His muscles tightened, but the beam refused to move.
For a moment, Daito remained completely still.
Then he pulled.
GNNNNNGH!
Veins rose across his arms.
The fractured ground beneath his boots cracked under the strain.
CRACK!
CRACK!
The steel beam finally broke free from the rubble.
Daito swung.
The massive piece of metal tore through the air with enough force to create a violent pressure wave around it.
FWOOSH!
The Frevage barely turned before the beam struck its torso.
BAAAAAAAAAANG!
The impact folded the creature's body inward.
Its chest visibly cratered beneath the force.
CRASH!
The Frevage was thrown backward, tearing through a section of ruined wall before landing among the rubble.
The beam shattered from the impact. Pieces of steel flew across the courtyard. But the Frevage stood again.
Slowly.
Its body trembled, Black blood dripped from its mouth.
Then it laughed.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The laughter grew louder.
"You are beautiful, Greyhell!"
Daito remained silent.
The Frevage spread its arms.
"You fight like a man who refuses Savagery!"
Its black eyes widened with something disturbingly close to admiration.
"You fight like you believe humanity can still be saved!"
The chains behind it writhed.
"And that is exactly what makes you interesting!"
The battlefield trembled as Daito glanced around. The fight had gone beyond the point of being contained.
The town itself was suffering.
Buildings that had survived the initial destruction were now developing cracks through their foundations. Roads had been torn apart. Fires burned between abandoned structures, and smoke climbed into a sky that seemed to have become darker with every passing minute.
Every collision between Daito and the Frevage was sending another wave of destruction through the surrounding streets.
The war was no longer happening inside the facility.
The war had become the facility and Daito was still standing.
For one heartbeat, the battlefield became strangely quiet.
Then another.
The Frevage lowered its head. Its breathing became deeper.
Heavier.
PSSSH...
The chains surrounding its body began moving again.
CLANG...
RATTLE...
One by one, they pulled toward its right arm.
The chains wrapped around one another, twisting and fusing together until twenty separate appendages became a single gigantic mass.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The metal-like biological structure continued growing.
Spikes protruded from its surface like the teeth of some enormous living beast.
The Frevage's muscles expanded. Black energy began flowing through the chains. It wasn't merely physical strength anymore.
Every ounce of corrupted Savage-Freaker energy inside the creature was being compressed into one attack.
The surrounding air became heavy.
The ground beneath its feet fractured.
CRACK!
Then—
CRACK!
A network of fractures spread outward from the Frevage like shattered glass.
Daito stood several meters away.
His breathing was slow.
Blood ran down his arm from the earlier injuries, dripping from his fingertips onto the broken pavement.
Drip.....
Drip...
Drip.....
His muscles tightened beneath his torn clothing.
The Frevage raised its enormous arm.
Then it screamed.
"DAITOOOOOOOO!"
The roar echoed across the ruined town.
The creature charged.
FWOOSH!
The ground exploded beneath its feet.
The massive spiked arm was pulled backward.
Then—
It swung.
SWOOOOOOOOOSH!
The attack was so fast that the air itself appeared to explode around the moving limb.
FWOOSH!
Dust and rubble were blasted backward like artillery shells.
Nearby debris lifted from the ground.
The Frevage's attack possessed enough kinetic force to flatten everything standing in its path.
Daito watched it approach.
He didn't raise his right hand. Instead, he moved his left.
The decision was deliberate.
He remembered Project A.B.I.G.A.I.L.
He remembered what that battle had taught him.
Power did not always mean dominance.
Sometimes power meant adaptability.
Sometimes surviving meant abandoning the thing you trusted most and learning how to fight with what remained.
Daito tightened his left fist, everything he had learned went into it.
War-veteran technique.
Years of training.
Pain.
Survival.
Discipline.
An unbroken will.
The Frevage's fist arrived.
SWOOSH.....
Daito stepped forward.
Neither of them retreated.
Their fists collided.
CLAAAAAAAAASH!
BRRMMMMMMMM!
The impact detonated across the battlefield.
For a moment, sound itself seemed to disappear.
Then the shockwave arrived.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
A gigantic spherical wave of pressure expanded from the two fighters, tearing through the surrounding environment.
Buildings that had already been weakened collapsed instantly.
CRAAAAASH!
Road pavement lifted from the ground in enormous waves.
Trees were ripped sideways.
Vehicles were overturned.
Windows shattered simultaneously across the surrounding streets.
SHATTER! SHATTER! SHATTER!
Dust swallowed the battlefield.
The two fighters disappeared inside the enormous cloud.
For several seconds, nobody could see anything.
Then—
FWOOSH!
A shadow moved inside the smoke.
Daito.
He had been waiting for this moment. The collision had given him exactly what he needed. The Frevage was recovering from the impact. Its attention was still focused on the aftermath.
Daito moved.
His right hand began to glow faintly beneath the dust. He didn't waste energy. He compressed everything into one point.
His muscles contracted, his blood vessels tightened, his bones aligned beneath the pressure.
The pain in his injured arm intensified.
Daito ignored it.
He remembered his father's voice.
He remembered every lesson.
Every failure.
Every time he had been told that a weapon was only as useful as the person capable of wielding it.
Then Daito stepped through the smoke.
The Frevage turned.
Its black eyes widened.
Daito's fist was already moving.
THWAAAAAAAAACK!
His right hand struck the center of the Frevage's chest.
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then—
BWOOSHHHH!
The force traveled through the creature's body.
SPLATTER!
PSSSH!
The Frevage's enormous right arm shattered first.
Its biological bone structure exploded outward in a storm of black fragments.
CRAAAAACK!
The damage continued inward.
The creature's chest cavity collapsed beneath the impact as though a mountain had been crushed from above.
Its chain tentacles violently erupted in every direction.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The chains lost their coordination.
Their movements became erratic, random and broken.
Black blood erupted from the creature's wounds.
PSSSSSH!
The Frevage staggered backward.
Daito remained in front of it.
Then something inside the monster cracked.
CRACK.
A strange pulse of energy escaped from its chest.
TWISHH!
The Frevage's internal energy core ruptured.
Its body convulsed.
FWOOSH!
A massive cloud of smoke erupted from the wound.
The entire battlefield disappeared beneath gray-black dust.
For several seconds, there was nothing.
No screaming, no chains and no explosions.
Only the faint crackling of distant fires.
Then silence.
The kind of silence that comes after something truly terrible has finally stopped moving.
From somewhere inside the smoke—
STEP.
Another step followed.
STEP.
A figure emerged.
Slowly, steadily.
His head was raised.
His jacket was torn apart, and blood stained the white and purple leather across his body.
His sword hung at his side.
And in his hand was the severed head of General Deidara-bachi.
Daito Greyhell had won.
* * *
Nagare couldn't speak.
He stared at Daito through the thinning dust, his expression frozen somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.
Tasao's mouth remained slightly open.
Zumi slowly exhaled, his eyes fixed on the corpse in Daito's hand.
Even the Woman in White, who had remained composed throughout the entire battle, closed her eyes for a brief moment as though acknowledging the sheer magnitude of what had just happened.
Daito's mother was the only one who moved.
She brought one hand to her mouth.
Not because she was horrified, not because she feared the sight before her, but because she was relieved.
Her son was alive.
Daito slowly raised the severed head above him.
Fwooo....
The wind began pushing the remaining dust away from his body.
For the first time, the battlefield became visible again.
Ruined streets. Collapsed buildings. Burning structures. Broken vehicles. Shattered trees.
The remains of the dormitory scattered across the courtyard.
Daito stood at the center of it all.
He inhaled deeply, his chest expanded and his fingers tightened around the severed head.
Then, from the deepest part of his lungs, he released a war cry.
"AAAAAAOOOOOOOOOUUUUU!"
The cry tore across the battlefield.
It wasn't simply anger, it wasn't merely the sound of victory, it was everything he had carried with him.
Pain, training, exhaustion, his father's teachings, the suffering of his town, the people who had died, the battles he had survived, the hatred created by a broken system, and the refusal to surrender to it.
His voice echoed through the ruined streets. It traveled across the collapsed buildings and empty roads. Somewhere in the distance, survivors hiding inside shelters heard it.
They looked toward the battlefield.
And for one brief moment, they understood that someone had stood against the monsters that had been destroying their town.
The General had fallen.
But Daito knew better than to mistake that for the end.
Systems did not die simply because their generals fell.
They adapted. They replaced the dead. They created new soldiers. They changed their methods.
And somewhere beneath the victory was a truth Daito could not ignore.
This war had only become larger.
* * *
The dust was still settling when footsteps echoed through the broken street.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Slow, deliberate and familiar.
Daito turned.
Nagare emerged from the smoke. Beside him stood Daito's mother. Her wrists were no longer bound.
Nagare had released her as he stopped several meters away. For a moment, he simply looked at Daito.
Then he spoke.
"I told them I would guard her."
His eyes shifted briefly toward Daito's mother.
"They agreed."
Daito said nothing.
The silence lasted only a few seconds before his mother walked forward.
She didn't hesitate.
She crossed the remaining distance between them and wrapped her arms around him.
Daito stood completely still. The battlefield was still burning around them. Blood covered his clothing. Dust coated his skin. Smoke drifted between the ruined buildings.
But none of it mattered.
His mother was alive.
And for the first time since arriving, Daito allowed himself to stop fighting.
She held him tightly.
"You're late," she whispered.
Daito closed his eyes.
He didn't answer immediately, he simply allowed himself to remain there.
Then she stepped back.
Her eyes were wet, but her expression remained steady as she looked over the injuries covering his body.
Nagare lowered his gaze.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.
"You were right."
Daito looked toward him.
Nagare clenched his fist.
"I let hatred decide my path."
He took a slow breath.
"But I still believe the NBA is responsible for what this world has become."
His eyes lifted.
"I don't regret fighting."
He paused.
"But I regret how it happened."
Daito remained silent.
Nagare looked around at the destruction.
"You killed both Generals."
Then his eyes moved toward Daito.
"And the Lieutenant."
"Yes."
"You destroyed our base."
"Yes."
Nagare nodded slowly.
The answer didn't surprise him.
"You've changed."
Daito's eyes narrowed slightly.
"So have you."
The words struck Nagare harder than expected.
He looked away for several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Nagare smiled faintly.
"I remember when we trained behind the market."
His voice softened.
"You were always faster."
A faint smile appeared on Daito's face.
Nagare continued.
"But I was always louder."
The memory lasted only a moment.
Then it disappeared beneath the weight of the present.
Nagare looked at him again.
"I don't understand you."
His expression became serious.
"You fight for the NBA."
"You hate what they represent."
"You kill people who are victims of the same system you're trying to change."
His voice lowered.
"Do you honestly believe this world can be saved by blade and blood?"
Daito didn't answer immediately.
Fwoo....
Wind moved through the battlefield as ash drifted between them.
Somewhere behind them, a damaged building collapsed with a distant—
CRAAAAASH!
Daito finally spoke.
Slowly and measured.
His father's memory lived inside every word.
"A man does what he has to do..."
He looked directly at Nagare.
"...to get the job done."
Nagare closed his eyes.
For a moment, his expression softened.
"You sound like him."
Daito said nothing.
Nagare opened his eyes again.
"Do you still think I'm wrong?"
Daito stared at him.
"No."
Nagare's eyes widened slightly.
Daito continued.
"But I won't join you."
Nagare nodded.
"I expected that."
He stepped closer.
"Do you know what hurts the most?"
Daito remained silent.
Nagare didn't wait for an answer.
"We both wanted to save people."
He looked toward the ruined city.
"But we chose different definitions of salvation."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
It wasn't the smile of someone who had won. Nor was it the smile of someone who had lost.
It was the exhausted expression of a man who had finally realized that his hatred had carried him farther than his ideals ever could.
Nagare extended his hand.
Not as an enemy, not as a soldier, but as the childhood friend Daito remembered.
"As long as you're alive, Greyhell..."
He held Daito's gaze.
"...the world still has a chance to choose."
Daito looked at the hand.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he reached forward.
Their hands met.
GRIP.
Then they fist pumped.
KA.
Firm, short and respectful.
Neither man smiled, and neither man apologized.
They simply understood each other. Nagare released the handshake and turned away.
He began walking into the smoke.
Daito watched him.
"Where are you going?"
Nagare didn't stop.
"To find another way."
His footsteps continued.
"If I can't destroy the system..."
He paused.
"...maybe I can change it from inside."
Daito's mother watched him disappear into the distance.
"He still cares about people."
Daito lowered his eyes.
"Yes."
His mother looked at him.
"He just doesn't trust them."
Nagare stopped.
He remained there for a moment, his back turned toward them.
Then he spoke without looking back.
"Be careful, Daito."
The wind carried his voice through the smoke.
"The Lieutenants aren't finished."
Daito's expression hardened.
"The NBA isn't finished either."
Nagare continued walking.
"And the world you're standing on..."
He paused one final time.
"...is older than both of us."
Then he disappeared into the smoke.
Daito remained beside his mother.
His sword rested against his shoulder.
Blood slowly dried across his torn clothing as the evening wind passed through the ruined battlefield.
The Frevage General had fallen. The facility had been destroyed.
His mother was safe.
For this moment, Daito had achieved what he came here to do.
But as he looked across the burning remains of the town, he understood something that victory could not hide.
The General was dead.
Nagare was gone.
Yet the system remained.
And somewhere beyond the horizon, the NBA was still preparing its next move.
The war had not ended.
It had only deepened.
To be continued...