"Is that so?" Souichiro murmured, his voice low yet coldly amused as his piercing gaze locked onto Kouhei. "Then, I guess the only way for you to stop this... is by killing me."
As he finished, Souichiro raised his hand with deliberate calm, fingers spreading slightly as if signaling fate itself.
"S-Souichiro..." Yuuna’s voice trembled as she called out to her brother, her eyes glossy with fear. "P-Please, don’t."
"It’s out of my hands now, oh my dear big sister," Souichiro replied, his smirk sharp as a blade. "He’s the one who came at me bearing the flames of war. Naturally, I’d answer him with something just as fierce. You see, the condition for your return to me was simply to spare him and your worthless, defective faction members. But when they chose to raise their swords against me... it became inevitable that they’d fall here."
Yuuna bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, her breath catching in her throat.
She understood. There was no stopping this.
A clash between them had been destined from the moment their paths crossed.
Then, from the shadows behind Souichiro, four figures stepped forward, each presence heavy with dark intent, positioning themselves right before the massed army ready to surge forward.
"Don’t worry, Souichiro-sama. I’ll make sure this time I truly kill this bastard," Masayoshi growled, his lips curling into something twisted as he licked them, tasting phantom blood.
He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck to each side with slow, audible pops, before clenching his fists and cracking each knuckle.
His body practically vibrated with raw, reckless anticipation.
It had been too long since he’d last tasted the madness of combat.
Now, before him, lay war itself.
It was a storm of blades and blood.
And to him, that was thrilling.
"I might get a bit reckless this time," he added, his grin betraying his hunger for violence.
"Don’t underestimate the enemy, Masayoshi," Natsuya cautioned, his tone hard and cold as steel. "You remember what happened last time when you got cocky, right?"
"Shut your damn mouth!" Masayoshi spat, his voice snapping like a whip. "That was just a fluke. Nothing like that’s gonna happen again."
Masayoshi’s confidence brimmed over, so sure he’d crush Kouhei beneath his heel.
Yet Natsuya sensed something had shifted.
Something about Kouhei had changed.
It felt... uncanny. Different from the man they’d faced before.
"Just be careful this time," Natsuya pressed again, though his words fell into the stubborn space Masayoshi had already built around himself.
"Yeah, yeah," Masayoshi huffed dismissively, but the dismissiveness barely hid a restless edge.
Yuzuha’s gaze slid across the assembled enemy army—but truly, her vision was fixed on a single figure.
"I’d gladly drag my naughty little niece to where she belongs," she murmured darkly, a cruel smirk playing on her lips.
Her eyes locked onto Nagisa.
Nagisa, unwavering, returned the stare—a cold defiance glinting in her eyes.
"Fufufufu... I’d love nothing more than to grind that face—so like her mother’s—right back into the dirt," Yuzuha whispered, almost to herself.
"Do what you like," Souichiro replied flatly, unconcerned.
"Then, I’d gladly slaughter everyone here," came another voice—a lilting, chillingly amused tone.
It was Satoshi, dressed in garish colors, his painted grin masking something darker. He was a demon jester.
"I relish the thought of slicing succubus throats. Hmm... but what I truly crave is the blood of the Primordial Succubus. You rarely get the chance to rip open the belly of an ancient demon and see what spills out. And her blood? I imagine it tastes richer—like a royal pig’s blood—while the common succubus’s blood would taste no better than a slaughtered sow’s."
He let his tongue glide slowly across his dagger’s gleaming blade, eyes narrowing with sick delight.
Meanwhile, Kouhei stared back at them, breath steadying as he braced himself.
This was war. And only one side would walk away victorious.
At his side, Hina’s fingers tightened around his hand, the warmth of her grip grounding him.
Both silently gathered resolve, hearts syncing in quiet determination.
This wasn’t just a fight.
This was a war for Yuuna.
And losing wasn’t an option.
"They’re starting to move," Silica murmured under her breath, her eyes sharp on the approaching enemy. At least now, she was clothed—she had the sense and modesty not to bare her tits in battle. "Everyone! Prepare yourselves for war!"
At her call, the army of succubi and incubi surged into motion, magic flaring and weapons raised.
Kyouka turned, scanning the faces of their faction members gathered behind.
Their expressions were tense, yet resolute.
"It seems Momoko isn’t coming," Misuzu observed quietly, her eyes searching the horizon—but there was nothing.
"It’s fine," Kouhei answered, his voice low but firm. "We might not be able to wipe out Souichiro’s entire army... but if I can take him down, that’s our victory."
Like chess, the goal wasn’t slaughtering every piece.
It was cornering the one piece that mattered.
"Are you really sure you can face him alone, Kou-kun?" Nagisa asked, her brow furrowed, worry threading through her words.
"Well... I do have the confidence to fight," Kouhei admitted, his eyes locked ahead. "But whether I can actually win... that depends on a few unpredictable variables."
In truth, he was wagering it all on a mix of strategy—and luck.
As they spoke, Souichiro’s lips twisted into a final, cold snicker.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered his raised hand.
At that signal, the massed army surged forward—a living tide of steel, claws, and dark intent.
Kouhei drew a deep breath, steadying the nerves coiling in his gut.
To be honest, his heart was pounding.
He’d never been part of a true war before—let alone stood at its helm.
But here he was, leading one.
Of course he felt nervous.
But if he held to the plan... they might just survive.
"Hina-san," Kouhei called, his voice low but urgent.
Hina met his gaze, then nodded firmly.
Drawing from deep within, she summoned a torrent of mana so dense the very air quivered.
The energy roiled around her, gathering into a sphere of absolute darkness—a swirling black void like a living hole in reality itself.
Then, without hesitation, she hurled it toward the charging enemy.
As it collided, soldiers at the front were consumed instantly, bodies dissolving into the abyss as if they’d never existed.
For now, they had to thin the ranks—carve through the mass before steel met steel.
Souichiro’s side watched, eyes narrowing.
"That Primordial Succubus seems dangerously troublesome to keep on the board," Natsuya observed coolly.
"You don’t have to worry," Satoshi whispered, his dagger gleaming wet against his tongue. "As an assassin who walks the shadows... I can cut that mage down before she even notices me."
With that, he suddenly vanished—like smoke caught in a gust of wind, leaving only the faint shimmer of distorted air behind.
Right now, his path was set. He was headed there without hesitation.
Yuuna’s heart pounded as she watched everything unfold through her trembling gaze, her breath quick and shallow, while Kouhei still stood rooted in place, eyes unwavering.
Kouhei’s gaze locked onto Yuuna’s, their eyes meeting across the chaos and distance.
He was going to take his woman back.
There was no room left for hesitation. No turning back now.
Around them, Hina and the other succubi capable of unleashing devastating magic were trying desperately to thin the advancing enemy. Yet, for every enemy disintegrated by their spells, more surged forward—protected by barriers that shimmered to life like rippling glass.
The relentless tide couldn’t be stopped.
Kouhei knew what he had to do.
With a sharp intake of breath, he drew his blade, the polished steel catching the dull, angry light of the battlefield.
Then, without waiting, he surged forward—Aria and Nagisa at his side, matching his stride, their determination carved into every step. Behind them, Kyouka and the rest of the faction members pressed on, steel clashing against fear.
Masaki focused her power, her form splitting into multiple identical clones in a blink of violet light. Each clone pulled back a bowstring, and together, they unleashed a volley of arrows, the shafts slicing the air and finding marks among the enemy ranks.
But the enemy was ready.
Dark-robed mages raised their hands, conjuring blasts of roiling energy that seared the air, the glow harsh and dangerous.
While these blasts lacked the catastrophic power of Hina’s spells, they were still strong enough to shatter bone and tear flesh apart.
"Haa!!!" she shouted, her voice raw with focus as she raised her arms.
A massive barrier materialized, swirling lines of energy knitting together into a solid wall of glowing force. Enemy magic struck it in furious waves, sparking and flaring harmlessly across its surface before fading to nothing.
For a heartbeat, Kozue stood still, feeling the weight of her own magic and the thrill of realization flood through her veins.
She had become so much stronger.
Her eyes darted forward, catching sight of Kouhei. He was already ahead, sprinting into the sea of enemies, his blade glinting with silent resolve.
It was because of him.
Despite the resentment she once held, the truth was undeniable—especially since the day she watched his lifeless body fall.
Back then, sorrow had twisted deep inside her chest, a feeling she couldn’t easily name.
Even if she still kept her guard up around men, Kouhei was... different.
And now, he was the one leading them—shoulders squared and eyes unflinching.
Somewhere in her guarded heart, something fragile and unfamiliar was beginning to bloom.
At the frontline, Kouhei’s blade moved like a dance—arcs of silver cutting through flesh and steel alike. His posture was calm, each strike precise, as if the chaos around him barely touched his mind. Soldiers fell before him, their cries lost in the roar of battle.
"Ha... it’s about time I get moving," Masayoshi muttered, a savage grin spreading across his face. "I’ll fuck that bastard up big time."
Natsuya exhaled, the breath heavy with resignation, and raised his hand.
A swirling portal, rimmed with dark energy, bloomed open before Masayoshi.
Without pausing, Masayoshi stepped through—eyes locked on his target.
And so, the second fierce clash between the two of them was about to begin.