Shingen stormed forward — his greataxe raised high. The crimson blood burst from the ground where his feet struck, each step echoing defiance.
He joined Adam without a word — just a glance. That was enough.
Mujin turned to meet them.
And then — the rhythm began.
Whirl. Swing. Crash. Block. Step.
Shingen's axe came down like judgment — wide arcs aiming to split Mujin in half. Each blow made the earth quake, trailing embers and cracking asphalt.
Adam stood at his side — shield raised, intercepting every counterstrike. Mujin's claws and slashes darted in like vipers, but the shield always met them.
Bang. Slam. Slide.
Each impact chipped the surface, but not their will.
The three moved like a broken waltz.
Mujin blurred between strikes, teleporting mid-swing — only to meet the axe on one side, and the shield on the other. Firelight clashed with crimson gleam. The world spun.