The chamber cleared in seconds.
No commands.
No announcements.
Just instinct.
Exorcists moved to the edges of the arena circle like iron filings pulled by gravity itself.
Because the Paladin had stepped forward.
Tetsuo adjusted his grip on his blade.
His breathing slowed.
His shoulders relaxed.
His instincts sharpened.
Snowfield mode.
Hunting mode.
Survival mode.
Kaguren didn't draw his sword.
He didn't even touch it.
His hand simply rested on the sheath.
Casually.
Almost lazily.
"Come," Kaguren said.
Tetsuo moved first.
The stone floor cracked beneath his step.
His body shot forward like released tension snapping back into shape.
Fast.
Sharp.
Direct.
Steel flashed.
Kaguren shifted one step sideways.
Effortlessly.
The blade passed through empty air.
A second strike followed instantly.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
No hesitation.
No wasted movement.
Every swing meant to end the fight.
Observers exchanged looks.
Someone whispered:
"He's fast."
Kaguren stepped backward again.
Still calm.
Still unreadable.
Still not drawing his weapon.
Tetsuo accelerated.
His strikes began overlapping each other.
Flowing.
Unpredictable.
Low sweep—
vertical cut—
reverse grip slash—
pivot strike—
like water forced through a narrow channel.
Kaguren's sleeve fluttered slightly.
That was the only sign he was moving at all.
Tetsuo attacked again.
Harder.
Faster.
Closer.
Steel met sheath.
CLANG.
The entire chamber reacted.
Kaguren had blocked.
Without drawing his sword.
Tetsuo's eyes sharpened.
Good.
So this wasn't impossible.
He pressed forward.
Blade dancing faster now.
Snowfield instincts turning into momentum.
Momentum turning into pressure.
Pressure turning into attack rhythm.
Then Kaguren sighed.
Softly.
"I see."
Light appeared.
Not bright.
Not explosive.
Just present.
It gathered around Kaguren's hand like something remembering its shape.
Golden.
Ancient.
Heavy.
The chamber temperature changed.
"H-Light," someone whispered.
Kaguren raised his hand.
And the air above them split open.
A massive luminous hand descended from nothingness.
Not summoned.
Manifested.
It struck downward.
Tetsuo barely rolled aside in time.
The stone floor shattered where he had stood.
A second hand followed.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Each one larger.
Slower.
Heavier.
Relentless.
"The Hand of the Angel," someone said from the edge of the arena.
Tetsuo sprinted sideways.
Another hand slammed down.
Stone exploded.
Dust rose.
Shockwaves echoed through the chamber like distant thunder.
This wasn't a duel anymore.
This was survival again.
He dodged.
Rolled.
Cut through falling debris.
Adjusted direction mid-step.
Searching.
Watching.
Thinking.
There had to be a pattern.
There was always a pattern.
Another hand descended.
Too fast.
Too close.
Too heavy.
His heartbeat skipped.
Just once.
Everything stopped.
The chamber disappeared.
The stone floor vanished.
The light vanished.
Dark purple fog surrounded him.
Silent.
Endless.
Watching.
Something stood inside it.
Not visible.
Not fully.
But there.
Then—
a smile.
Sharp.
Patient.
Knowing.
"Hm."
A voice.
Low.
Certain.
Cold.
"Just as I expected."
Tetsuo's eyes widened.
Then the world snapped back.
Steel touched Kaguren's throat.
Silence exploded across the chamber.
Tetsuo blinked.
Confused.
Breathing hard.
Unsure how he got there.
But his blade was correct.
Precise.
Perfectly placed.
He smiled.
"I—"
Cold pressure touched his stomach.
Kaguren's blade.
Unsheathed.
The tip rested exactly where it needed to be.
One inch deeper—
and the fight ended.
Neither moved.
The chamber erupted in whispers.
"He made the Paladin draw his blade."
"Who is he?"
"Should someone like that even be here?"
"Is he meant to serve Heaven…"
"…or fall into Hell?"
Kaguren slowly lowered his sword.
Then stepped back.
"You pass."
The chamber froze again.
Tetsuo blinked.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
Kaguren turned slightly.
"Sister."
One of the Reverend Sisters stepped forward immediately.
Calm.
Composed.
Prepared.
"Take him to his chambers."
She bowed slightly.
"This way."
Tetsuo followed her.
Still confused.
Still thinking about the fog.
Still thinking about the voice.
Still thinking about the smile.
Behind him—
the chamber emptied slowly.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Kaguren remained alone.
Standing at the center of the arena.
Thirty years.
Thirty years as Paladin.
Thirty years fighting demons.
Thirty years encountering angels.
Thirty years watching warriors rise and fall.
And yet—
"There is something inside that boy…"
he said softly.
"…that should not exist."
His hand tightened slightly around his sword.
"I only hope…"
His voice lowered further.
"…darkness does not find him first."
Because if it did—
Tetsuo's life
was about to become
something far worse than war.