Underworld, Yomi Hirasaka.
Everything here was gray—the sky, the earth, the mountains.
Endless lines of the dead kept marching forward, without end.
Only, quite a number of the dead had been eaten by Soul-Eater Beasts.
Those Soul-Eater Beasts, like giant viruses, devoured the dead—each a fat, big-eared meatball.
"This… this is Yomi Hirasaka?"
"How am I here?"
Seeing this, Deathmask felt a lurch in his gut and stared hard at the gravekeeper ahead.
"I brought you here to avoid eyes and ears. I don't want Seiya interrupting me."
A voice came from behind him.
"You… you really know my finisher, Sekishiki Meikaiha?"
"That's the Cancer Gold Saint's exclusive secret art. How did you steal it?"
Deathmask glared viciously at the gravekeeper opposite.
He could tell his Meikaiha hadn't blasted the other man's soul out of his body.
On the contrary, the man had used a bona fide Sekishiki Meikaiha himself—otherwise Deathmask wouldn't be in Yomi Hirasaka.
"Exclusive secret art?"
"The so‑called 'secret art' is just the previous Cancer Gold Saint's basic attack."
"Can you use Sekishiki Blue Flames?"
"Can you use Sekishiki Soul Burial Break?"
"Can you use Sekishiki Spirit Advent at Will?"
"Can you use Sekishiki Tenryōha?"
Damian smiled.
"Where… where did you hear those?"
Deathmask was horrified.
He had seen those Cancer techniques recorded in old texts, but never in practice.
"I can use them all."
Damian's smile turned mysterious.
"Impossible!"
"Sekishiki Meikaiha takes an extraordinary Cosmo to perform."
"So you were hiding your strength, which is why my Meikaiha didn't separate your soul."
"But a mere gravekeeper—even if you can use Sekishiki Meikaiha—you're not my match."
Deathmask didn't buy it. He raised his fists, light bursting in a flurry.
He had a bad feeling. The other man was strong—much stronger than he'd thought.
So he had to finish him fast, before anything unexpected happened.
Bang bang bang…
Every arc of punch‑light was blocked. The other man's hands seemed to foresee each strike in advance.
"You… you're actually blocking lightspeed punches!"
Deathmask was at a loss for words.
Only someone who had awakened the Seventh Sense could block lightspeed punches head‑on.
Had the other awakened the Seventh Sense?
"Deathmask, are your attacks really this weak?"
"You only know one move—Sekishiki Meikaiha… It's laughable."
"No wonder so many later called you unworthy of the Cancer Gold Cloth—sneering that you were a gold‑plated Gold Saint."
Damian's muscles swelled slightly as he mocked him.
"Deathmask—did the previous generation pass almost nothing down to you?"
"Worthy of 'the weakest Cancer in history'!"
"The last one was a true gold crab who walked sideways—he could even seal gods."
"Sekishiki Blue Flames, Sekishiki Soul Burial Break, Sekishiki Spirit Advent, Sekishiki Tenryōha—I can use them all."
Damian added silently in his heart: They're all stored in the graveyard for now.
Deathmask was livid. "You're talking nonsense!"
He too had heard the Holy War two hundred years ago was brutal, that many Gold Saints fell, and that Cancer's legacy had all but been cut off.
Those legendary Cancer moves couldn't possibly have been handed down.
This gravekeeper was deceiving him!
He fired a punch—only to have the other clamp his fist in place.
What…
Deathmask could feel the Cosmo rolling off the man. It was the real deal—Seventh Sense.
This guy had hidden deep.
He clearly had the power of a Gold Saint—yet he chose to be a gravekeeper, disguising himself as weak.
Deathmask was shaken.
It was like an angler landing a big fish—happy at first—but after a struggle discovering the "fish" was a giant shark that could drag him under at any time.
"Wait… you're the mystery man who attacked the Pope?"
A thought flashed; his face went white.
"Smart. But too late!"
Damian patted his chest. "Come on—hit me!"
"Come on, hit me!"
Faced with the taunt, the flippant look left Deathmask's face; his expression went gravely serious.
He wore a Gold Cloth while the other didn't—he still had the edge.
Seeing the other step up, Deathmask flared his Cosmo and slammed another lightspeed punch into the man's chest.
At full strength, his lightspeed punch could shatter boulders and tear the earth.
Even other Gold Saints wouldn't take it lightly.
No matter how strong he was—without a Cloth—this would work.
Ting!
With a crisp ring, Deathmask realized his own punch had landed—then rebounded back, the reflected blow slamming him away.
He flipped back and landed, baffled.
Looking closely, he saw a gold glass‑like layer sheathing the other man—this "glass" had bounced his attack back.
"That's your attack?"
"Try harder. Use your finisher!"
Damian kept pressing in, taunting him.
Deathmask knew he'd met a hard case. Without another word, he burned his Cosmo and unleashed his finisher again: "Sekishiki Meikaiha!"
Meikaiha could split body and soul, and its impact was considerable. Lower the "sekishiki" component and raise Cosmo to boost its power.
He could use it to punch through any Bronze or Silver Cloth and inflict massive shock damage.
Thud!
The Meikaiha crashed into Damian—then ricocheted straight back, slamming into Deathmask and tagging him instead.
This time he hit hard—cracking the ground—landing ass‑over‑teakettle.
"Damn it. He's not wearing a Cloth—and it's like he is."
Climbing up, dust‑streaked, Deathmask's lips curled in a wicked smile. "Interesting. So that's your true power?"
"On that alone, you still can't kill me."
"Because I'm wearing the Cancer Gold Cloth!"
"Oh? You sure about that?"
Damian shrugged off his cloak and vest, revealing a torso packed with corded muscle.
"Burn, my Cosmo!"
His whole musculature swelled in an instant, bones popping like frying beans, muscle bulging, body expanding, Cosmo roaring into a blaze.
The golden Cosmo flared sky‑high—gilding even gloomy Hirasaka.
Heh…
Little crab—watch me crack your shell!
(End of Chapter)
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