Chapter 163: Edging Towards the Cliff

The face of the child, tender and young, was frozen in a serene smile. The head hit the ground, and blood trickled down the icy earth in a sinuous path. Even in death, his sealed body remained unaltered, as if fate itself mercilessly confined him forever within the fragile vessel of a child.

Watcher 09 stood in the shadows, his masked visage devoid of expression. Though he bore neither face nor head, he emanated the aura of a bloodthirsty specter, gazing coldly at the lifeless body beneath him. His voice, as soft as a murmur, broke the silence.

"Two people, two graves—just perfect. Where have 10 and 16 dug them this time? Do I really have to find them myself?"

He sheathed his massive scythe, the blade's obsidian gleam reflecting a piercing cold under the moonlight. With a faint wave of his hand, the air seemed to ripple briefly, and his figure dissolved into a streak of light, vanishing into the night.

Riyugi and Myouka remained kneeling on the ground. Myouka's shoulders trembled violently, her vacant gaze hollow and lifeless, as if her soul had been entirely stripped away. The bodies of Yame and Syoruha were dragged off by ghostly hands, leaving trails of blood and mud that seared into her heart.

"Myouka..." Riyugi gently shook her by the shoulder, attempting to draw her back to reality. Myouka remained unresponsive, tears silently streaming down her face, dripping onto her fallen scarf. Riyugi sighed softly, picking up the scarf and carefully tying it back around her.

"Even though we've failed Yame and Syoruha," Riyugi's voice was heavy, suppressing her sobs, "we must first ensure our parents' safety. Then we can think of a way forward."

The cold wind flushed Myouka's cheeks as her tears continued to fall. She hesitantly wiped her eyes, her gaze filled with doubt and helplessness, but in the end, she nodded faintly.

The two of them struggled to their feet, the icy and silent night weighing heavily on their backs. The wind whispered like the lament of restless souls, echoing down the desolate street. Step by step, they moved towards their homes, the path before them seeming endlessly long.

Elsewhere, fresh from a deadly battle with Watcher 17, Shingin stood drenched in blood. The tangible aura of his killing intent hung thickly in the air around him. His eagle-sharp eyes fixed on Watcher 13, who was fleeing rapidly in the distance.

A thunderous roar erupted from behind him, forcing Shingin to pause and glance back. He saw Yahageshii locked in fierce combat with Watcher 20. Yahageshii's towering frame moved like an unstoppable fortress, his fists ablaze with searing flames. Each strike shook the earth, resonating like a roar from the heavens.

Watcher 20 unleashed his full dark power, shrouded in thick black mist. His crimson eyes blazed with fury, exuding an aura as oppressive as a bottomless abyss. He wielded a night-black blade that seemed to tear the air asunder with every slash.

"Die here, you fool!" Watcher 20 growled, his voice cold and menacing.

Yahageshii roared back, the flames engulfing his fists flaring violently. He charged forward like a fiery meteor, meeting the black blade head-on. Fire and shadow clashed in an ear-splitting explosion, sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield. The searing heat mingled with the corrosive stench of the mist, saturating the air.

"Your darkness bores me!" Yahageshii bellowed, his flames burning brighter, pushing back the encroaching shadows. His relentless strikes carried the fury of a soul on fire, determined to obliterate his adversary.

Watcher 20 sneered, his dark energy surging anew. His form blurred, splitting into countless spectral shadows that darted towards Yahageshii from all directions. Yahageshii spun defensively, his fiery fists creating wave after wave of protective flames, yet the encroaching shadows slowed his movements.

Sweat beaded on his brow, but the unyielding determination in his eyes burned hotter than his flames.

"Your fire will eventually be consumed by the darkness!" Watcher 20 hissed with a cruel smile.

"Then try it!" Yahageshii roared, slamming his fists into the ground. Flames erupted outward, transforming the battlefield into a raging inferno that briefly tore through the darkness.

Yet, through the flames, Watcher 20 emerged unscathed, his dark blade snaking forward like a viper aiming for Yahageshii's heart. Yahageshii leaped back, his fiery fists hammering the ground to propel himself upward. Letting out a defiant roar, he reignited his fists with an even fiercer blaze, charging headlong at the dark blade.

The clash of fire and darkness lit up the battlefield, their energies intertwining in a violent maelstrom. Amidst the chaos, Yahageshii's voice rose above the din—a roar of defiance against fate, an unyielding challenge to the darkness.

"Shingin!" Yahageshii bellowed, his tone fierce and unwavering. "Go take down that bastard 13! Don't worry about this—I've got it! Aunt Jade is safe; I left the Lazy Worm to guard her!"

Shingin glanced back at Yahageshii, ensuring his mother was under capable protection. With a curt nod, he responded coldly, "Understood."

In the next moment, his figure blurred into a whirlwind, soaring into the night sky. Dust and rubble scattered in his wake, the gust of his departure leaving a sharp, linear streak across the ruins.

High above the ground, Shingin's eyes gleamed like lightning as he scanned the battlefield. He wove through the shattered remains of the city, his sharp gaze catching sight of a familiar outline.

"This place..." His pupils constricted, his heart lurching as though struck by an iron fist. He halted abruptly, suspended midair. He knew this place too well—it was Riyugi's home. He had visited here before, bringing Riyugi home. But now, the once warm and inviting house was unrecognizable. The roof lay crushed under massive boulders, shattered walls exposing the wreckage of a life once cherished. It was a monument to violence and despair.

Shingin's steps faltered, growing heavy as he approached the desolate remains. The once-grand mansion was now a heap of broken stones, scattered like the remnants of a torn canvas that screamed of brutality and hopelessness. The wind stirred gently, carrying the oppressive stillness of death. Amid it all, Shingin's heartbeat thudded heavily in his chest, echoing in his ears like a war drum.