By the time I came back to the hotel, the stars were shining in the night sky, replacing the gentle moon, which had hidden behind the cold mist typical of this part of year.
It doesn't come as a surprise to see Kuroka lazing around, reading some magazines and eating salty snacks. She isn't even trying to look sexy — not that she really needs to try, given how attractive she is — as she continues to devour chips without caring about leaving crumbs all over the hotel bed.
"Kuroka, this young master demands that you let him pat your ears for a few seconds."
The nekoshou stops stuffing her mouth with overpriced junk food and stares at me in confusion.
"Did Kunou-chan hit your head during the fight?"
Without uttering a word, I slump on the bed, not caring about the crumbs.
While the fact she appears to be worried about my health is genuinely touching, I don't have the energy to showcase my appreciation via flirting after my encounter with the god-slayer. Hell, I don't even have enough fucks to give in order to at least try to act as if I have everything under control like a proper Young Master should do in every given situation.
"I just met a MC. The Longinus user," I cover my face with the softest pillow I could grab, which isn't nearly as soft as Kuroka's ears.
"Which one?"
"THE Longinus wielder."
The grimace on Kuroka's face says everything that I need to know about her opinion on how fucked I am right now. Being a holy devil sage doesn't make me immune to being stabbed to death by a weapon that was said to be able to sever the concept of fate itself through the Dao of miracles.
What did I do to deserve this again?
...Right, defying the Heavens.
Petty assholes.
"…Kunou seems interested in learning Senjutsu from you. Really, teaching her would be more beneficial to your standing with the Youkai in Kyoto than winning this thing," Kuroka gently suggests after somewhat digesting the news.
She isn't wrong per se. There is nothing forcing me to stay here this time. No femme fatale that I wanted on my side; no legendary expert to impress; no princess to rescue from a stupid giant lizard; and no filial duty to follow.
"Oh, are you that worried about this Young Master? My heart rejoices in knowing about your undying love for me."
"I am a bodyguard with a soft spot for morons." She giggles with a soft expression as she puts her tails on my chest, probably in an attempt to offer me some kind of comfort.
Nothing would change if I were to simply leave at this moment and continue with my life without needlessly risking myself.
"I will win this stupid tournament."
I started to cultivate to avoid suffering a bad end, yet the idea of simply leaving because of a second-rate MC who wasn't even planning on using this tournament as an opportunity to defeat his ex-fiancé that had previously humiliated him by breaking their engagement in public annoys me quite a lot.
I spent years preparing myself for an imminent challenge from a MC seeking to either kill me or cuck me. Years of studying the best ways of avoiding confrontation, learning escape techniques, improving my trash-talking skills, and training myself to the bone to always be two steps ahead.
The Heavens may be spiteful bastards for giving me this challenge, but so is this Young Master.
Beating an MC this early in the story with my superior cultivation can't be harder than surviving an encounter with an overpowered black lizard!
I hug Kuroka's tails.
The truth is that I know for a fact that if I were to run away today, this MC would become a devil in my heart, making it impossible for me to keep cultivating. That was scary, maybe even scarier than this MC himself. Because, after years of tiring work, cultivation is finally becoming something…fun.
"I do need some help to comb my hair," the sweet catgirl says after a long silence, not trying to retrieve her tails from my grasp. "Illusions can only do so much for a girl."
I chuckle at that. This supports my theory about Kuroka being one of those so-called Tsunderes.
Losing is scarier than the avenger type of MC, so it is only logical for me to try putting that damn heavenly-defying spear in his fucking chrysanthemum for daring to stand in my path to immortality
.~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~.
-Yesterday, the rising star Bikou showed us why he is considered by many as the greatest Monkey King since the first Sun Wukong by securing a spot in the semifinals with an overwhelming victory against the heir of the Kappa clan. -
-Today's match promises to be at least half as interesting. -
Fate decided that my opponent for this round would be a young shaman from one of those barbarian tribes known for refining beast souls and then fusing with it to further their body cultivation. The gray-haired teenager on the other side of the arena stands a whole head taller than me, staring straight into my eyes with both caution and dignity.
-Despite being French, this boy doesn't know the meaning of the word retreat. Here he comes, the youngster who broke his opponent's katana with only his fists and claws, the strongest werewolf's son, Loup Garou.-
Fierce yellow meets cold blue, and a deep growl is directed at me.
Some might have misunderstood this intensity as hostility, but by virtue of being a fellow Young Master, his feelings are crystal clear to my eyes. Loup is introducing himself as an equal that should be taken seriously.
For the sake of giving him some face, I greet him with a curt nod. This earns me a short, appreciative guttural grunt that transmits his intentions of fighting me, giving his all against my mighty flames, and proving himself to be more than just the child of the King of Ashes, the holder of the title of the strongest lycanthrope. That, or he is just complimenting my robes.
-And there is no way for us to forget about the beauty of a devil that has proved that he is here for reasons beyond his enchanting cold demeanor and peerless golden locks.-
…I will punch the announcer after the tournament ends even if it goes against the holy book's teachings.
Maybe he is intentionally making fun of me, so the public will forget about the fact that a devil is one of the favorites for winning the whole tournament. Calling me Fire Princess and the Vermillion Maiden could be their way to protect me from the jealousy of the Youkai who may attempt to do something foolish.
…No, I am still so fucking punching him after this is over.
-Without further ado, let's start with the fight.-
As soon as the announcer utters those words, Loup Garou lowers his stance, imitating a beast about to pounce on its prey. He then starts to take his shirt off, revealing a well-toned muscular body underneath. Really, I am pretty damn sure that I could grind some meat on those abs.
Some Youkai whistle and leer at the half-naked teenager who is solely focused on me as he crouches a little bit and—
"Take your pants off too," I hear Kuroka, who is currently wearing her disguise, screaming from the stands.
I turn around to give her a betrayed look.
While not as bulky, my muscles are infinitely better looking and way more efficient than the werewolf's, and she knows it. She has copped a feel of them at least once a week for the last year and a half, meaning that she is well aware of my superiority. I even allowed her to slap my glorious ass before this fight.
Just as I am considering taking my own robes off, I am kicked on the stomach by a werewolf not even half as handsome as I. Right, the fight has already started.
The young shaman's swift frontal kick is brutally efficient. The claws on his feet dig into my robes, not giving me the chance to create some distance between us and recover from the sudden blow before he pulls me toward him with his toes, fully intending to follow with an elbow strike to my face.
Alas, after a whole month of daily sparring sessions with the Sword Sovereign at the Vatican, this treatment feels almost like a gentle caress. Even if close combat isn't my specialty, I am still a cut above him.
Sweeping his leg with a well-timed low kick, I manage to throw him to the ground and proceed to stomp one of his hands with as much force as I can muster without overcommitting. It isn't as showy as my flames, but it is an effective counterattack nonetheless.
With a heavy grunt, but otherwise ignoring the damage dealt to his hand, Loup grabs my leg, digging his claws into my Achilles tendon and tearing apart a piece of it and making me squawk in pain. My regeneration means I am not in danger of becoming a cripple, but this isn't the kind of pain I want to get used to.
I am forced to give up my plan to end the fight there and kick him in the face instead, sending him flying to the other side of the arena. My injured tendon is still regenerating, preventing me from capitalizing on the moment.
"Strong," Loup says as he slowly gets back to his feet and sweeps the blood off his face with his healthy hand.
My opponent utters a feral growl that echoed across the arena as his body starts to change. His previously muscular body grows in size until it reaches two and a half meters; ash-like fur covers him from head to toe, hiding his previous injuries; but the greatest change happens to his face. His mouth lengthens into a snout that reveals a sharp row of yellow teeth that promise pain.
But transforming is not a free action according to the holy book.
"AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH." The beast shaman howls in pain as my sucker punch lands on his snout.
I strike his snout twenty more times for good measure before delivering a knee to his Adam's apple, but instead of faltering under the assault, the beast answers in kind. He bites two of my fingers off, which doesn't stop me from trying to kick him in the balls.
This isn't a duel where two opponents compare their fighting prowess anymore, but a test to see who can take more punishment; my regeneration against his resilence.
His claws slash through my muscles; and I answer by blowing hot air into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. I try to punch his throat, but he twists his body with unexpected agility and almost hits me with a spinning elbow. And this is only the start.
The whole exchange lasts fifteen seconds at most, but it is more than enough time for me to compliment my opponent for his strength while proving that mine is still above his.
"Yes, strong," the beast states with a satisfied smile while falling on his knees after taking a fifth heavy blow to the liver, allowing me to finally end the fight with a peerless kick on his face.
I sweep some blood off my face and stare at my fallen opponent who weakly shakes his head, refusing my silent offer to help him stand. Suppressing a huff, I leave the proud shaman there and exit the now quiet arena.
It's hard to blame the Youkai for being at a loss for words after such a magnificent display of power. Maybe they will do the smart thing and immediately kowtow before me the next time I walk into the arena.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Yasaka's POV:
After reading and denying yet another request from an important Youkai clan in Kyoto to poison Riser Phenex before his fight against Bikou Sun Wukong, Yasaka, the leader of the West Youkai faction, decided that maybe this tournament is a mistake.
Oh, the tournament is doing wonders for the economy. Kyoto hasn't seen this many tourists since that time when the three biblical factions used the city as a neutral ground to parley half a century ago — this was a few weeks before the supernatural Second World War officially started, so one can only guess how bad that went — but the literal mountains of paperwork on her desk are proof enough that the whole event was badly planned. One of those mountains is filled with complaints about the non-Youkai fighters.
In hindsight, a rule specifying that only Youkai from Asia were allowed to participate in the tournament should have been obvious, but nobody expected a French werewolf, a human, and a devil to have such a mastery of Senjutsu and Touki at such a young age. In fact, nobody expected them to know Senjutsu at all; that is supposed to be something that Youkai and Eastern Gods could learn.
The announcers are doing everything in their power to make people forget about their disgust for these participants by making them sound like joke characters, but there is only so much that they can do to sway public opinion, especially when people are already asking for foreign blood.
At least things will calm down after Bikou Sun Wukong wins the whole tournament, which shouldn't be a problem for a supposedly once-in-a-generation kind of genius who was trained by the one and only Sage Equal to Heavens.
"Mom, can I visit Kuroka?"
The only reason Yasaka's smile doesn't become strained upon hearing her daughter's seemingly innocent question is thanks to centuries of experience handling less-than-stellar news. The only possible reason Kunou would ask for permission to be at a ten-foot radius from Kuroka is because she wants to meet the Phenex boy.
"I happen to have a letter for her and Riser Phenex that needs to be delivered," she replies with a soft smile while internally sighing. "Remember to be back home before dinner."
Her adorable daughter is thirteen and it's normal for girls her age to start thinking about boys. If it weren't for her current headache, Yasaka would have loved to tease her about her first crush…even if said crush is a devil.
Yasaka suddenly feels like drinking again.
Is kicking the devil from Kyoto still an option at this point? No, it probably isn't. Even ignoring that she really doesn't want to miss the chance to make a deal with the Phenex Clan to acquire Phoenix Tears at a reasonable price, it would be cruel to kick Kuroka out of the city without a proper reason.
This is a headache. While she doesn't have anything against Riser Phenex and even believes him to be a decent boy, her daughter following a devil like a puppy is another mountain of paperwork and complaints from Youkai with too much free time in their hands waiting to be delivered to her desk. She still needs to write a lot of letters telling the Youkai not to send assassins after any of the participants.
"Thanks, Mom. Love you," Kunou quickly grabs the letter, practically skipping with excitement.
Once the girl leaves the office, Yasaka starts praying to whichever god is listening for her daughter to get over her crush before an international incident starts.