The other side of Reincarnation

　She didn’t announce the strike.

　She simply moved.

　Jiro’s instincts screamed a fraction of a second before the blade actually reached him, and he barely tilted his head aside in time.

Shing.

　A thin line opened across his cheek.

　A strand of his own hair drifted loose, severed clean.

　His expression shifted entirely.

She wasn’t this fast a moment ago.

She’s serious now.

　What followed tested every inherited advantage he carried.

　Barriers were thrown up and cut through in the same breath. Spatial teleportation bought him seconds rather than safety. Regeneration worked overtime against wounds that kept arriving faster than his body could properly close them.

　He drew on his father’s own combat techniques, on Domination, on fragments of skill absorbed from Teorema’s fallen king, on every careful analysis his mind could produce in real time.

　None of it was quite enough to actually turn the fight in his favor.

　It was enough, barely, to keep him alive.

She’s not fighting like she was before, he realized.

　For the first time, genuine alarm entered his thoughts.

　He held his true weapon in reserve, waiting patiently despite the mounting damage.

　Waiting for the one opening that would actually matter.

　Ivy pressed harder, forcing him backward through exchange after exchange, until finally, properly cornered, Jiro activated it.

　”Judgement,” he said quietly.

　Ivy went cold the instant she felt it.

　It wasn’t merely powerful.

　It was erasing.

　Existence itself unraveled wherever the technique actually connected.

　If it landed cleanly, even her own regeneration might not save her.

　She vanished before the beam fully released.

　The attack tore through the space she’d occupied a heartbeat earlier, erasing everything behind her instead.

　She reappeared above him.

　Jiro threw up a barrier instantly.

　She cut through it without slowing.

　He teleported.

　She followed, closing the distance again before he’d finished materializing.

　He fired attack after attack.

　She destroyed each one in turn.

　He activated Domination, desperate, aiming directly at her.

　It failed entirely.

　The ability simply slid off her like water off stone.

I can’t control her.

　For the first time, real fear cracked through his composure.

　Ivy appeared behind him again.

　He turned.

　Too slow.

　Her hand closed around his arm.

　Jiro activated Judgement at point-blank range.

　A final, desperate gamble.

　Ivy released her grip and threw herself clear a fraction of a second before it fully detonated.

　The resulting explosion tore the entire dimension apart at its edges.

　Jiro, breathing hard, studied her through the settling wreckage.

　Something in his expression had changed.

　Fear had become something else.

　Genuine, unsettled understanding.

　”So that’s how it is,” he said. ”You really worship him, don’t you.”

　”He is my Lord,” Ivy said simply.

　She attacked again.

　The fight stretched on.

　Brutal.

　Precise.

　Both of them were pushed to their genuine limits.

　Until finally, Ivy found the flaw she’d been searching for.

　The exact fraction of a second during Judgement’s activation when Jiro was vulnerable before the technique itself fully released.

　She let him believe he had his opening.

　He fired.

　She sidestepped the true killing point by a margin so narrow it barely qualified as survival.

　And in the same motion, she closed the remaining distance.

　Her finishing strike landed clean.

　Jiro’s body began coming apart at the edges.

　This time, the damage was too total for even his considerable regeneration to properly answer.

　He didn’t beg.

　He simply smiled.

　Something almost fond crossed his fading expression.

　”So... he really did come back.”

　”This is for Lord Kai,” Ivy said.

　And finished it.

　The dimension went entirely silent.

◆

　Far away, in a place Ivy would never have thought to look, the real Jiro stood with his eyes closed.

　Motionless.

　Entirely unbothered by the battle he’d just, in every sense that mattered to him, actually witnessed.

　His eyes opened.

　Everything the clone had experienced settled into him at once.

　Every strike.

　Every desperate gambit.

　The exact sensation of Ivy’s blade finally finding its mark.

　Jiro touched his own throat, where the killing blow had landed on a body that had never actually been his own to lose.

　”Interesting,” he said quietly.

　Genuinely pleased.

　”So that’s the strength of a True Demon Lord.”

　He looked out toward the distant battlefield.

　Toward a war still unfolding in five separate realities at once.

　None of them yet aware of exactly how much information he’d just quietly gathered through a death that had cost him nothing real at all.

　”And she still doesn’t know,” he said.

　And smiled.