The day of the new summoning arrived. The Council was ready. They had failed to stop the ritual—the Sanctum's defenses were, as predicted, impenetrable. But they had succeeded in their true goal: they knew exactly how it worked. And they had a plan to subvert it. High in the skies above the capital, hidden by cloud-walking magic, Haruto, Lyra, and the Sun Elf elite guard watched. Below, in the palace courtyard, a new magic circle flared to life, far more complex and brutal than the first. The sky darkened, and a pillar of blinding white light slammed down from the heavens.
When the light faded, a single figure stood in the center. It was Kaito. Haruto's breath caught. Kaito had been his rival in everything back in Japan—academics, sports, for the attention of their classmates. He was charismatic, fiercely competitive, and believed in a simple, brutal world order: the strong deserved to win. The Duke approached, his arms spread in welcome.
"Hail! The True Hero, unsullied by the taint of this world! The Paragon of Light!" Kaito looked around, a confident, almost arrogant smirk on his face. He raised a hand, and a sword materialized, not of summoned light like Kenji's, but seemingly forged from solidified sunlight itself, burning with an intense, purifying heat. "I am here to save this world," Kaito declared, his voice amplified by magic. "And I will start by purifying it of the darkness that threatens it." He pointed his sword directly at the sky, seemingly at random, but his gaze was locked on the hidden Haruto. "I know you're there, Sakazuki. I can feel your stench of shadows.
Come down and face me. Let's show these people what a real hero looks like." He had sensed them. The Duke's mages must have given him a way. The trap was sprung. There was no refusing. To do so would be to confirm every lie the Duke had spread. Haruto descended on a platform of condensed shadow, landing gracefully in the courtyard opposite Kaito. The two boys from another world stood facing each other, the fate of their new one hanging in the balance. The duel was not a brawl.
It was a brutal, beautiful, and terrifying clash of ideologies. Kaito was a force of nature, his light sword cleaving through the air, each swing leaving searing afterimages. He attacked with overwhelming offense, seeking to purge and destroy. Haruto, in contrast, was a phantom.
He didn't block; he flowed. He used his shadows to create shields that absorbed the light, to form tendrils that redirected Kaito's blows, to step from one patch of darkness to another in an instant. He was defense and misdirection incarnate. "Fight me, you coward!" Kaito roared, frustrated. "I am fighting," Haruto replied calmly, his voice echoing from multiple shadows at once. "I'm fighting the lies in your head, Kaito.
Do you really believe this man?" He gestured to the Duke. "The one whose heart is blacker than my deepest shadow?" As they fought, Haruto used his power, not to attack Kaito's body, but his mind. He couldn't read surface thoughts, but he could sense intent, emotion, and falsehood. With each clash of light and shadow, he projected feelings, memories, and questions. The memory of their history teacher speaking about dictators who rose to power by creating external enemies.
A feeling of the Duke's cold, calculating gaze, devoid of any warmth or care for Kaito. A simple, piercing question: "Why does his 'light' feel so cold, Kaito?" Kaito's attacks became more frantic, less precise. The unwavering confidence in his eyes began to crack, replaced by a flicker of doubt. Haruto saw his opening. Instead of striking a killing blow, he let Kaito's next wild swing pass, and stepped inside his guard. He placed a hand on Kaito's chest, not with destructive magic, but with a pulse of pure, empathetic shadow—a mirror that reflected the conflict and fear growing in Kaito's own heart. Kaito staggered back, his light sword flickering. The look of absolute certainty was gone. Haruto stood his ground. "The duel is over. I won't fight a pawn.
Wake up, and then come find me when you're ready to fight for the truth." He then melted back into the shadows, leaving a confused hero, a furious Regent, and a populace that had just witnessed their "invincible" Paragon of Light being defeated not by force, but by unnerving wisdom. The legend of the Shadow Hero grew.