The send-off at the Kyoto Inn was... excessive.
Dozens of monks were on their knees on the gravel, chanting blessings. Tatsuma looked like he was a few days away from commissioning a bronze statue of me in the courtyard.
"Please, Great Guardian," an elder wept, pressing his forehead to the dirt as I walked by. "Bless us!"
"Yeah, sure, stay hydrated," I muttered, offering a lazy two-finger salute, feeling incredibly awkward.
I wasn't as exhausted as I was yesterday, but a bone-deep fatigue lingered. My body felt denser, heavier. The Banshōman energy hadn't dissipated; it had settled deep into my marrow. It felt like walking around wearing a lead vest. I wasn't leaking heat or anything, but compressing it. And If I didn't vent soon, I was going to implode rather than explode.
"Let's go," Shura said, grabbing my jacket and physically shoving me into the back of the transport van. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"Just tired," I lied, leaning my head against the glass. "Playing God takes it out of you."
We didn't go back to the True Cross Academy. Mephisto, in his infinite, sadistic "wisdom," reassigned us before we even hit the highway.
Mission: Investigate rumors of a Kraken terrorizing the coastal town of Atami.
Real Mission: Enjoy the beach, I thought.
Three hours later, we were standing on the white sands of a private, cordoned-off beach. The ocean was pristine, the sun was blistering, and the Exwires were attempting to act like normal teenagers.
"The Kraken has been sighted near the outer reefs," Yukio briefed us, standing rigidly on the sand. He was wearing a full-body black wetsuit that made him look like a severely depressed seal. "But since Rin is... recovering... he will stay on reserve."
"Reserve means food," I announced, turning my back on him and heading toward the boardwalk. "I'm getting ice cream and meat. Might as well throw a BBQ."
"Meat?! I'll help you carry it!" Bon yelled, immediately dropping his serious Exorcist facade.
"I call dibs on the skewers!" Renzo cheered, already stripping off his shirt. He paused, looking around the beach. "Wait, where are the babes?!"
"We're on a private, quarantined beach, you idiot," Izumo snapped, aggressively adjusting her sun hat. "And frankly, I prefer it this way. Less crowded."
"I think it's lovely," Shiemi smiled, dipping her toes into the surf, her sundress fluttering in the ocean breeze. Konekomaru just sighed in relief, applying his third layer of SPF 50.
I came back thirty minutes later with a massive cooler full of A5 Wagyu, a portable grill, and a double-scoop vanilla cone. The class was already in the water, splashing around and acting like they hadn't just survived a demon god.
I set up the grill under a large umbrella and started prepping the cuts when...
"Hey, Chef."
"Yea, what's up—"
Shura flopped down onto the oversized towel right next to me. She was wearing a string bikini that was probably illegal in several strict countries. She tossed a bottle of suntan oil, hitting me square in the chest.
"Do me a favor?" she smirked, lying flat on her stomach and casually undoing the clasp of her top so her back was completely bare.
I looked at the oil, then down at her.
I've truly ascended and became a god, I thought as tears mentally rolled down my face.
"You have hands," I deadpanned, trying to play off the sudden spike in my heart rate.
"My arms are sore from all the hard work this week," she countered, peeking over her shoulder with a lazy, challenging glint in her eyes. "But if you don't wanna, I'll just go ask Pinky to—"
"Now, now, let's not be hasty," I interrupted smoothly, popping the cap off the bottle. "If you're really that tired, who am I to say no? No need to subject yourself to Renzo's sweaty palms."
I squirted the oil onto my hands. My compressed inner heat warmed the liquid instantly. As I pressed my hands into her shoulders, applying firm pressure, I felt her physically melt into the towel.
"Mmm... you're surprisingly good at this," Shura murmured, her eyes fluttering shut.
"Well, I gotta be. Precision with the hands is what makes a top-class chef," I said, working my thumbs down her spine, massaging the deep tension out of her upper back.
But as I moved lower, I felt the essence of the demonic ink etched into her skin. Even through the warm oil, it felt cold. A void of absolute, suffocating control.
Damn, it's really embedded into her, I thought as my fingers sank deeper into her.
"Maybe you should change professions. You've got quite the future in massage therapy," she teased, her voice slightly breathless.
"Tempting, but then I'll need a dedicated partner to test my growth," I said, keeping my tone light but slowing the pace of my massage. "You interested?"
"Pffft, I'll think about it," she chuckled. But then, her body tensed slightly. The playful edge vanished from her voice. "But there's one thing I wanted to know..."
"Yea? What?"
"What's your endgame?" She turned her head, fixing me with a sharp, serious look. "You negotiated with the Grigori, you erased the Impure King, and you've built a faction out of the Kyoto branches. You're not thinking of becoming a Paladin now, are ya?"
I worked a stubborn knot out of her lower back, making her let out a soft groan. "Paladin is just a title. It's a gold star the higher ups hand out for good behavior and control."
"Then what do you want?" she pressed.
"Same thing you want," I said, gently turning her over to face me. "Freedom."
She quirked a brow at me, but I saw her eyes widen fractionally.
"You're not the only one who wants it," I smirked and leaned in close to her face, never breaking eye contact. "Real freedom. Not the kind Mephisto leases out, and not the kind the Vatican allows. But to get that, I need absolute, undeniable power."
I traced the air an inch above the cold ink of her curse, letting just a fraction of my purifying white-hot warmth radiate from my fingertips. I felt her shiver as the heat fought the cold of the contract.
"Lemme ask you something, Shura," I whispered, laying down next to her on the towel. "If you had world-altering power... if you could rewrite the rules... what would you do about the chains holding you down?"
Shura went completely still.
"I'd..." She hesitated for a moment, then her eyes locked back onto mine. She saw not but assurance and finally found her voice again. "I'd break free and start over in my own way."
"See?" I smirked and leaned closer to her face, my lips nearly meeting hers. "We aren't so diff—"
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
The civil defense siren shattered the moment, echoing down the coastline.
"Kraken!" Yukio shouted from the shoreline, pointing frantically out to sea.
Damn, I sucked my teeth. So close.
I stood up, shading my eyes against the sun.
Out in the bay, a massive, rubbery tentacle—easily fifty feet long—erupted from the water. It wrapped around a local news helicopter that was flying too low, dragging it violently toward the churning surf.
"Damn it," I cursed. "I'm on break."
"We can't reach it from here!" Bon yelled, wading out of the water as the waves grew rough. "It's too far out!"
"I guess it's my time to shine again," I said, stretching my neck and walking toward the water.
I flared my Mantle.
Instantly, the heavy, compressed energy stored in my marrow surged outward. The air around me warped with sudden, intense heat. I felt a familiar sensation on my scalp as my black hair ignited, shifting completely into roaring, ethereal white-blue fire that drifted upward defying gravity.
"His hair...!" Shiemi gasped, covering her mouth.
They all froze, turning to look at me. The Exwires' eyes went wide, the memory of my world-shattering form in Kyoto flashing right back to the forefront of their minds. The sheer, godly presence of the Banshōman brought a sudden, suffocating silence to the beach.
Yukio stumbled backward in the surf, his hand trembling slightly as it hovered over his holster.
Izumo dropped her sun hat into the wet sand. Her mouth hung slightly open, her usual haughty mask completely melted away by the sheer, terrifying weight of my aura.
Bon's breath hitched loudly. He stared at the roaring crown of fire on my head, looking genuinely torn between dropping to his knees in prayer or sprinting for his life.
"He's doing it again!" Konekomaru yelled, taking a panicked step back as the sand around my feet began to glass over from the ambient temperature.
"You better not incinerate my vacation spot, god-boy!" Shura shouted over the roar of the flames, shielding her eyes from the glare.
I engaged my Sky Step, denying gravity entirely, and launched myself into the air.
"He's literally flying," Renzo muttered, his jaw dropping as he shielded his eyes from my glare. "Like, actually flying."
I soared toward the helicopter, hovering effortlessly above the churning waves. But as I flew, I felt my internal temperature spike dangerously. The lead vest feeling turned into a roaring furnace.
Guess I gotta vent this out or I might turn into ash again, I realized, my skin flushing with the heat.
I reached the helicopter in seconds. The Kraken roared—a wet, gurgling sound that smelled like a rotting fish market.
"Let go," I commanded.
I didn't draw the Kurikara. I focused my intent into the edge of my right hand, aggressively venting the dangerous, stored-up heat from my core to cool my vessel down. The expelled energy condensed, creating a razor-thin blade of absolute thermal plasma extending from my palm.
Looks like I made a giant lightsaber.
Conceptual Cleave.
I slashed and the heat blade vaporized the sea spray and sliced through the massive tentacle in a perfectly clean, cauterized arc. The severed limb dropped into the ocean, and the helicopter broke free, spinning away to safety.
The Kraken shrieked in agony and dove, retreating into the dark blue depths.
"Running away, huh?" I muttered, hovering over the water. The venting worked; my internal temperature stabilized back to a manageable hum.
Suddenly, I sensed something else. A massive biological signature deep below the reef. It wasn't the Kraken. It was something older, but fading.
"I'm going in," I called out, looking back at the beach.
"Wait!" Shura yelled from the shoreline. She wound up her arm and hurled a small, black object over the water.
I caught it smoothly with one hand. It was a tactical, waterproof earpiece.
"Keep comms open down there, God-boy!" Shura barked.
"Got it," I said, popping it into my ear.
I dove.
I surrounded my body in a thermal bubble. The superheated layer of air kept the water from touching my skin, reducing drag to zero. I shot through the water like a torpedo, following the trail of kraken ink down into a massive underwater cave system.
I surfaced a minute later in a subterranean coastal grotto. Two massive skylight holes in the cavern roof let shafts of sunlight pierce the gloom from the forested cliffside above.
Lying in the center of the underground lake was a whale.
Not just a whale. A mountain of ancient flesh and barnacles. Multiple horns crowned its head, and two large tusks pointed forward near its jaw. It had a large, prominent X-shaped scar on the front of its forehead. Its small eyes, relative to its colossal body, appeared to be only partially open.
Its breathing was shallow, a raspy, echoing sound that filled the cavern.
"Who... enters... my domain?" the whale's voice echoed directly into my mind.
It sounded like grinding tectonic plates.
"I am Amatsumihiko," the whale wheezed before I could answer. "God of these seas. But... the Kraken... it fights for my territory. I am old... too old to hold it back."
I stepped onto the stone platform, the water steaming off my clothes instantly. My white-blue hair cast an ethereal glow against the damp cave walls.
"Well, I'm Rin Okumura," I introduced myself calmly, letting my divine aura flare just enough for him to feel the pressure. "The new God of Flames. Nice to meet you, Big Guy."
Amatsumihiko's massive, cloudy eye shifted, looking at me with a sudden, profound clarity.
"A Sovereign of Fire... in my waters?" the Sea God rumbled, the ancient weariness in his voice shifting to respect. "The world above must be changing greatly for one of your kind to walk the earth. I sense no lies in your heat, young God."
I looked at the massive, festering wounds on the whale's side. The Kraken had been whittling him down for weeks.
"You need help," I said.
"I need... strength," the Sea God replied. "But the people of the surface... they have forgotten the offerings. I am starving."
CZZZT.
"Rin?" Shura's voice crackled in my ear. "We're tracking your signal. Are you inside the Devil's Throat blowhole? Did you just introduce yourself to a Sea God?"
There's no way in hell that's what it's called. She had to have made that shit up.
"Yea, big whale. Fellow deity," I said, shaking my head. "And he needs a big snack."
"Offerings," Shura advised, her voice shifting back to veteran Exorcist mode. "Gods run on faith and food. If he's weak, he needs spiritual energy. Make him a meal, a big one. We're right above you on the cliff."
"A meal?" I looked at the giant whale. "Ight, but Imma need resources. And don't be cheap on the ingredients, either."
"Yeah, yeah, way ahead of you," she replied. "Incoming. Catch."
A few seconds later, a massive, reinforced steel crate plummeted through the skylight hole above. I caught it smoothly with one hand.
"Delivery received," I said, cracking the seal. Inside was an assortment of seasonal veggies, rice, wine, squid, and cooking utensils.
"Hold on, Gramps," I told Amatsumihiko. "Dinner will be served shortly."
I didn't have a traditional kitchen. But did an extraordinary chef really need one? Plus, I was the God of Fire.
I could probably piss greatness.
I dragged a massive, flat slate of rock to the center of the platform. With a pulse of my Mantle, I superheated the stone, turning it into a giant, sizzling flat-top grill. I unpacked the steel crate, moving with a blur of practiced speed.
I tossed the seasonal veggies and squid onto the scorching rock. The hiss of searing meat and charring vegetables instantly filled the cavern. I used my absolute control over temperature to ensure nothing burned; it was perfectly caramelized. I popped the cork on the wine and splashed it over the grill to deglaze it, creating a thick, savory steam that smelled absolutely divine.
Next, I found a deep, hollowed-out stone basin near the water's edge. I dumped the rice and a precise amount of fresh seawater into it. I pressed my palm against the outside of the stone.
Boil.
The water bubbled instantly. Within minutes, I had perfectly cooked, fluffy rice infused with the natural brine of the sea. I combined the seared squid, the wine-glazed vegetables, and the rice, tossing them together on the rock plate.
But the real secret wasn't the ingredients—it was the cook. Normally, after making an offering to a god like this, a person had to pray to the god to make the offering legitimate.
However, I am also technically a divine being.
And when have you heard of one god praying to the other? I haven't, and I won't be the first to do so either. It would never sit well with me.
So, I let a wave of my purifying white-blue fire wash over the meal, infusing it with raw, concentrated Sovereign spiritual energy.
I had just created a Michelin-star divine offering.
What's the worst that could happen? I shrugged mentally.
"Order up, Gramps," I said, lifting the massive stone slab with ease and bringing it to the water's edge.
Amatsumihiko opened his colossal mouth. I slid the entire mound of spiritually dense seafood and rice directly onto his massive tongue.
He swallowed, his massive throat working.
For a second, nothing happened. Then, a brilliant, golden light rippled through his thick blubber. The barnacles on his skin began to glow with renewed bioluminescence, and the heavy, grinding wheeze in his lungs smoothed out into a deep, powerful hum.
My eyes widened slightly as the thick, scarred hide of the whale began to smooth out.
Wait. His energy isn't just soaring... he's getting younger. I realized, watching the aura of the Sea God spike to terrifying levels. Damn. I didn't just feed him; I hit the biological reset button on a deity. My power really is broken.
"Delicious..." the Sea God sighed, his cloudy eyes brightening into a sharp, oceanic blue. "The offerings of the surface have never tasted so... potent. I feel the warmth of the Sun itself within me."
"Good," I said, sitting down in the lotus position on the now-cooling rock. "Now, give me a minute. I need to cycle my core before I melt."
I closed my eyes and meditated, focusing entirely on venting the excess, compressed heat radiating in my marrow, stabilizing my human vessel so I wouldn't turn to ash.
RUMBLE.
The water at the cave entrance churned violently, snapping my eyes open.
The Kraken was back. And it brought friends. It had split off dozens of smaller, human-sized clones, swarming the underwater entrance like a plague of rubbery nightmares.
CZZZT.
"Rin!" Yukio's voice panicked over the earpiece. "The clones are surfacing! They're coming out of the surf! We're engaging on the beach!"
"Handle the small fries," I ordered, standing up. My white-blue hair flared higher, casting harsh shadows across the cavern walls. "I've got the main course down here."
The main Kraken burst from the underground lake, screeching. It was huge—easily the size of Amatsumihiko. It lunged for the Sea God.
Suddenly, the underground lake surged upward. Amatsumihiko's eyes flared with golden, youthful power.
"Foul beast!" the Sea God's voice boomed in my mind, the cavern shaking with his restored might. "I shall banish you to the—"
"Whoa, take it easy big guy," I said, holding a hand up and stepping right to the edge of the platform, placing myself between the Sea God and the monster.
Amatsumihiko paused, the water hovering in the air.
"You just ate a Michelin-star, spiritually dense meal," I scolded him lightly. "You don't do heavy cardio right after eating. It's bad for the digestion. Sit back, Gramps. I'll handle the overgrown calamari."
Fighting underwater or in damp caves was usually a fatal disadvantage for a fire user.
But I'm not just a fire user. I'm a physics abuser.
I thrust both of my palms forward, aiming not at the Kraken itself, but at the lake water immediately surrounding it. I dumped raw, conceptual heat directly into the water molecules.
Absolute Boil.
BOOM.
The water didn't just bubble; it detonated. The liquid expanded into gas instantly, creating a massive, concussive steam explosion within the confined cavern. The shockwave slammed into the Kraken with the force of a submarine depth charge.
The monster shrieked as its rubbery skin flash-boiled, the sheer pressure wave crushing its internal organs against its own exoskeleton. It thrashed blindly in the blinding white steam.
"Order up!" I yelled.
I propelled myself through the thick vapor, moving faster than the eye could follow. I didn't bother with the thermal blade this time. I drew the Kurikara.
SHING.
The moment the blade left the scabbard, I felt it shift. I looked down quickly. The steel didn't just heat up—it was physically mutating. The metal crystallized, turning into a translucent, glowing blue-white energy blade. The hilt fused perfectly to my grip, humming with absolute power.
The sword is also evolving to handle the weight of my new power, I realized in a split second. It's not just a demon sealing sword anymore. It's a divine construct.
"Fried Calamari coming up!" I grinned as I slashed forward.
A crescent wave of white-blue plasma cut through the steam, completely cauterizing the damp air itself. I sliced the massive Kraken into four equal, perfectly seared chunks. The pieces fell heavily onto the stone platform, dead and thoroughly cooked before they even landed.
I sheathed my sword with a sharp click. As it locked into the scabbard, the blade reverted to normal steel. "Done."
The steam slowly cleared. I turned to Amatsumihiko. The Sea God was staring at me in absolute, primal awe.
"You... truly are no ordinary mortal," he rumbled, lowering his massive horned head in a gesture of deep respect.
"Yea, you're right. I'm mostly a Chef," I smirked, walking over to him.
"Thank you, Rin Okumura," Amatsumihiko breathed, his massive body beginning to glow brilliantly as he faded into a spiritual, ethereal form, ready to return to the deep, protective ocean currents. "The sea owes the God of Flames a grand debt."
I watched the golden light fade into the dark water, leaving the cavern peaceful and quiet once more.
"If I keep this up, I might have to start a tab," I said to the empty cave.
I tapped my earpiece. "Aye, Shura. The giant squid is dealt with. I'm flying back up."
I launched myself straight up through the skylight, rocketing out of the isolated island.
I broke through the canopy of the forest cliffside and arched over the bay, dropping like a meteor toward the private beach.
I landed on the white sand with a heavy THUD. The sheer heat radiating from my body instantly glassed the sand beneath my feet, turning it into a smooth, smoking mirror. My hair was still a roaring crown of ethereal white-blue fire, and my eyes glowed like supernovas.
The beach was a mess.
Yukio, Bon, Renzo, and the girls were covered in black squid ink and sand, panting heavily as the last of the Kraken clones dissolved into ash around them. Shura stood near the BBQ umbrella, her sword drawn.
They all froze as my boots hit the ground. It wasn't just the sight of the white-blue fire this time; it was the absolute, crushing physical pressure of a divine being re-entering their atmosphere. The sheer, godly presence of the Banshōman brought a sudden, suffocating silence to the beach. The air itself felt too heavy to breathe, pressing down on their lungs like a physical weight. Konekomaru looked like his legs were going to give out.
I let my aura completely fade. The white-blue fire retreated into my scalp, turning back into my messy black hair. The oppressive gravity vanished, and the ambient temperature dropped back to a normal summer heat.
I looked at the charcoal grill, then looked at them.
"We better have some meat left," I said casually, pointing a thumb at the cooler. "Cause I'm starving."
The suffocating silence hung for another second before the sheer absurdity of the whiplash snapped them out of it.
Bon dropped his head into his hands, letting out a loud, exhausted groan. "You descend from the heavens like an actual god of destruction... and the first thing you ask about is the Wagyu?!"
"Priorities," I smirked.
Izumo wiped a streak of black squid ink from her cheek, glaring daggers at me. "Do you have any idea how gross this stuff is? You could have hurried up down there!" she snapped, though the relieved slump of her shoulders completely ruined the threat.
Shiemi just let out a long breath she'd been holding, giving me a bright, exhausted smile. "Welcome back, Rin."
Renzo collapsed onto the sand, staring blankly up at the sky. "I'm buying life insurance. I don't care how much it costs, I'm buying it today."
Yukio didn't say a word. He just slowly sheathed his twin pistols, his jaw clenched tight as he adjusted his ink-splattered glasses. He stared at the glassed-over sand beneath my boots, completely unable to meet my eyes.
But I tried seeing his to see if it would react like it did when we first encountered Todo.
Shura chuckled, walking over to the grill and tossing a fresh, thick slab of beef onto the hot stone. "You heard the Chef," she called out, gesturing to the cooler with her sword. "Wash the ink off and grab a plate. The world's saved for today."
Alls well, that ends well.