Chapter 196: Childhood Memories Revisited

The Watcher 16, erupted with overwhelming fury. Streams of water surged wildly around him like an uncontrollable flood, reverberating in the space and causing the air to tremble. The red and blue flames enveloping his body began to extinguish gradually as his anger reached its peak.

It was Rayl's power at work.

From a distance, Kaga stood with a furrowed brow, her eyes glimmering with unease. She muttered under her breath, "Why is this happening? Is it because the fusion of Shingin's alien soul sample with Unit 16 was flawed? Or was there another unforeseen deviation?" Her voice carried doubt, but the dominant tone was one of apprehension toward the unknown outcome.

Watcher 16's icy gaze locked onto Shingin as cold sweat dripped from his brow. A sinister grin twisted his face. He stared at Shingin with a provocative glint in his eyes and sneered, "So, Shingin, is that all your power amounts to? Since I now possess the power of the alien soul as well, let's see who will emerge victorious!"

Shingin remained stoic, the Raigeki Blade in his hand emitting a faint hum of anticipation. Without a word, he advanced step by step toward Watcher 16, each footfall echoing like a drumbeat against his adversary's resolve.

A sense of oppression began to grip Watcher 16. He swung his arm, sending a torrent of water crystallized into razor-sharp blades surging toward Shingin with biting chill. But Shingin's figure blurred like a specter, effortlessly evading every attack.

In an instant, Shingin materialized before Watcher 16, the destructive edge of the Raigeki Blade aimed directly at him.

Watcher 16 reacted swiftly, merging his blade with surging water to counter the Raigeki Blade. Their weapons clashed midair, releasing shockwaves that tore through the surroundings, leaving the battlefield in chaos.

Each strike from Shingin's blade came with relentless pressure, forcing Watcher 16 into a retreat. Gritting his teeth, Watcher 16 retaliated fiercely, only to find his strength insufficient to suppress Shingin completely.

Shingin's cold gaze grew more intense, his killing intent escalating. With a sudden surge, he channeled a vortex of sword energy toward Watcher 16.

In desperation, Watcher 16 gathered all the water he could muster to block the impending strike. However, the power behind the sword energy far exceeded his expectations, shredding his defense effortlessly.

"Argh!!" Watcher 16 cried out in agony as the impact sent him crashing to the ground. His body trembled, blood seeping from his mouth, yet his eyes still burned with unyielding determination.

Hovering above his fallen opponent, Shingin's Raigeki Blade gleamed with lethal intent. He raised his sword, his voice cutting through the tension like ice, "It's over."

As Shingin prepared to deliver the finishing blow, a sharp, ear-splitting "squelch" shattered the silence of the battlefield. A massive dragon claw, armored and unyielding, pierced through his chest with devastating force. Blood spurted violently, staining the ground crimson.

"Shingin—!!!"

Riyugi's eyes widened in shock as tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. Her voice, laden with heartbreak, echoed across the battlefield.

Nearby, Yuko stood frozen, her face pale as a sheet. Her lips quivered, but no sound escaped them, the shock and grief rendering her speechless.

Despite using wind currents to heighten his perception, Shingin was caught off guard by the man who had moved like a phantom, appearing behind him without a trace. The icy dragon claw had mercilessly pierced his chest, as though tearing through his soul.

Turning slowly, Shingin's trembling gaze met that of a half-dragon, half-human figure. Dragon scales glistened ominously under the dim light, and dark armor radiated an oppressive sheen. The blood-stained claw still pulsed with the remnants of his heartbeat.

"It's been a long time…" The man's voice was gravelly, laced with a hint of mockery. "Missed me?"

His beast-like eyes gleamed with murderous intent, as though every unresolved grudge would culminate here and now.

Shingin's vision blurred, and the searing pain in his chest stole his breath. As consciousness faded, fragmented memories surfaced—images of a sunlit town, children's laughter echoing in the air.

At five years old, Shingin stood with arms crossed, his face marked from a scuffle with a neighborhood bully. Yet, his defiant eyes shone as he shouted at the retreating figure, "Next time, you won't get so lucky!"

Three familiar figures appeared, running toward him.

"Myouto, Seiki, Gen!" Shingin instinctively called their names.

First to arrive was Myouto Akito, his boyish yet handsome face bearing a slight smirk of disdain. Hands in his pockets, he remarked nonchalantly, "What, got beat up again?"

"I did not!" Shingin shot back defiantly.

Seiki leaned lazily against a wall, a toothpick dangling from his lips. "Yeah, sure. Next time, let us know so we don't have to chase the bully down."

Gen, the last of the trio, approached with his usual unkempt hair and mischievous grin. "Quit being stubborn. Just call us next time."

Shingin felt a warmth in his chest as he looked at his friends—rebellious as they were, they had his back.

Back home, Biyu's icy but concerned voice greeted them.

"You brats again!" she scolded, hands on her hips. "Can't you go a day without causing trouble?"

"We didn't!" Shingin retorted, only for Biyu to yank his ear in response.

"You still want to argue?" she glared. Turning to the others, she snapped, "Akito, Seiki, Gen, how many times have I told you not to drag Shingin into your messes?"

Akito shrugged with feigned repentance. "Alright, alright. We won't do it again."

Seiki rolled his eyes. "We're not brothers; don't act like we owe you."

Gen laughed it off. "It's not like we lost. What's the big deal?"

Biyu sighed, exasperated. "You boys are hopeless…"

At that moment, a girl with icy-blue hair emerged from the kitchen. Her serene gaze bore a hint of reproach.

"Why do boys always love fighting?" Kuhina's voice was cool yet melodious.

"Kuhina!" Shingin smiled, his defiance melting into gratitude.

But the others merely exchanged annoyed glances. They knew all too well that no scolding—or healing touch—could change their penchant for chaos.