The shattered remnants of a once-living planet floated like dust behind them—the result of Kairyuuha’s devastating technique, Dead Kon. Silence followed, heavy and cosmic, as Kazuki’s remaining clones disintegrated, their mana threads flickering out.

  In the void of space, only two figures remained—brothers, warriors, and destined opposites.

  Kazuki's red aura blazed to life, radiant and fierce, like a blood-soaked comet burning against the stars. His breath was steady, his eyes locked with Kairyuuha’s.

  Across from him, Kairyuuha’s purple aura surged—vivid, cold, and electric like the pulse of a living thunderstorm. The color twisted in arcs and spirals, framing him like a god wrapped in ancient flame.

  Without a word, they surged toward one another—a collision of raw fury and calm destruction.

  Kairyuuha raised his arm, summoning the essence of flame into his hand. A coiling mass of fire warped and condensed, taking the form of a dragon—a serpentine creature of pure elemental rage. His movements were fluid, like a dancer guiding the beast, and with a sudden twist, the Dragon Fury technique roared forward.

  Kazuki responded instantly. He pulled back and summoned his War Tyrant, a towering figure born from his condensed mana, armored and armed with ethereal blades. The Tyrant met the flaming dragon head-on.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The impact was cataclysmic—**flames burst across the void**, shattering the war tyrant's torso. But Kazuki was already gone.

  He reappeared behind Kairyuuha in a flicker, his red aura flaring as his leg came down in a vicious kick.

  Kairyuuha didn’t move.

  He raised two fingers and caught Kazuki’s attack with an effortless calm.

  A pause.

  Then came the rupture.

  Both combatants separated instantly, rising further into the vacuum as their auras expanded like dueling stars.

  “Dimensional Forecast.”

  Kazuki’s voice echoed across the silence, and the space behind him folded into a vast, geometric box—every edge pulsing red with predictive power.

  “Dimensional Vortex.”

  Kairyuuha’s tone was low, solemn. A glowing purple sphere unfolded behind him, spinning with the chaotic energy of a collapsing sun.

  The two domains expanded, then collided.

  The world warped.

  Within the domains, reality bent.

  Kazuki’s Forecast predicted Kairyuuha’s every movement with red-tinted echoes, layers of “what-could-be” manifesting as ghost attacks around him. Each clone struck with pre-emptive intent.

  But Kairyuuha’s Vortex devoured predictions, pulling in false futures and breaking them down into void essence. Every time Kazuki’s red echo moved, the vortex would twist and erase it, forcing the real Kazuki to rely purely on instinct.

  The battlefield turned surreal—a kaleidoscope of swords, flames, claws, and pure thought.

  Kairyuuha bent space mid-swing, teleporting through his own vortexes to avoid Kazuki’s blade.

  Kazuki countered by manipulating gravitational fields within his box, anchoring Kairyuuha’s limbs for milliseconds—enough to draw blood.

  Blow for blow, technique for technique—they pushed their limits, brothers in form yet rivals in fate.

  Outside the domain, the very stars flickered unnaturally as their powers destabilized the cosmic fabric.

  Inside—the battle had only just begun.