Just like the earlier competitive eating Gift Ga, this tug-of-war–style event had almost no human participants.
The rules were simple—at least on the surface.
Like traditional tug-of-war, both sides stood facing opposite directions, each gripping one end of the rope—or rather, the chain. Markers were tied along its length to serve as scoring points. The closer a marker was pulled past the opponent's line, the more points were awarded.
Unlike normal tug-of-war, however, being dragged across once didn't an imdiate defeat.
Instead, within a set ti limit, both sides accumulated points. When ti was up, whoever had the higher total won.
And there was more.
During the match, participants were free to use any Gift at their disposal to interfere with or attack their opponent. The only strict rule was this:
The mont any part of your body left the chain, you were disqualified.
Given that most participants were either imnsely strong demi-humans or gigantic phantasmal beasts, the "rope" used wasn't rope at all.
It was an iron chain as thick as a child's arm.
For an ordinary person, lifting such a thing would already be exhausting—let alone using it in a contest of strength. But this was the South District, where toughness was practically a civic virtue. No one thought twice about it.
If you couldn't even lift the chain, you didn't deserve to stand on the field.
Whether it was coincidence or the host taking pity on two "frail-looking" human boys, Ren Kuroda and Izayoi ended up facing each other in the very first round.
As two of the only ordinary-looking humans in the event, they drew plenty of attention.
There were cheers.
But there was also plenty of mockery.
"Are those two humans insane, or just suicidal? Competing in raw strength against demi-humans and phantasmal beasts? With that flimsy human Spirit Origin?"
"Well, at least this year's festival has sothing different to watch. Beats the sa old winners, right? I just hope they can even lift the chain. That thing's solid iron—must weigh several hundred kilos."
Most of the crowd wasn't here for skill.
They were here for a spectacle.
And they were certain the spectacle would be Ren and Izayoi embarrassing themselves.
They didn't get what they expected.
The mont the match began, the laughter died.
The iron chain—thick as a child's arm—was lifted effortlessly by the two supposedly frail teenagers.
Then they pulled.
The massive chain, weighing several hundred kilograms, snapped taut in midair—perfectly straight.
Even the strongest demi-humans and beasts, when using the chain, caused it to sag in a visible arc under opposing forces.
But these two?
They held it straight.
Which ant the force they were exerting far exceeded that of the previous competitors.
And what happened next was even more absurd.
Tug-of-war is fundantally about building montum and conserving breath. Talking mid-match risked disrupting your rhythm and losing control.
Yet these two—
Not only were they holding the chain rigid—
They were casually chatting.
"I was hoping to test myself against a phantasmal beast," Izayoi said with a grin. "Didn't expect to et the one person I most wanted to see right away."
His eyes glead.
"Ren, how much of your strength are you using? If you're still holding back… I'll take the first point."
Unlike traditional tug-of-war, where you conserved energy for a final decisive pull, this Gift Ga was about accumulating points over ti.
Ren had originally planned to conserve strength and outlast Izayoi. Even if their raw power was equal, in terms of endurance, Izayoi stood no chance against him.
But the mont Izayoi finished speaking—
The iron chain, which had remained perfectly centered, emitted a screeching tallic groan.
Its trajectory shifted.
It began sliding toward Izayoi.
Ren's boots carved deep furrows into the ground as he was dragged forward.
The marker labeled "One Point" was about to cross Izayoi's line.
Ren tightened his grip.
The muscles in his arms tensed.
And then—
He began to chant.
"Ruler who stands upon the heavens…Mask of flesh and bone, myriad forms, wings that beat, crowned in the na of man!Truth and temperance, the wall of dreams ignorant of sin—stand upon it!
Hadō #33…Sōkatsui!"
Because this was a Gift Ga—not a life-or-death battle—Ren had no reason to conserve ti. He perford the incantation in full.
With his current demonic power, a fully chanted Hadō #33 was no trivial attack.
The temperature around them began to rise.
When the crowd looked up, they saw it—
A massive sphere of blue fla, several ters in diater, forming high above.
And then—
It plumted.
A blazing mass of azure fire descended at terrifying speed, its target unmistakable:
Izayoi.
"It's Azure Fla… That fire that wavers between life and death… Why can Ren use it?"
Vera stared upward in shock.
Known as the "Azure Fla Demon," her own Gift drew upon that sa liminal fire between life and death.
So why could Ren wield it?
Could he… be the sa as her?
Sōkatsui was a Kidō spell—an art of the Shinigami.
And if Shinigami were beings who stood on the boundary between life and death, then perhaps it wasn't so strange after all.
Ren, however, had no ti to notice Vera's astonishnt.
He focused entirely on Izayoi.
This wasn't their first clash. But what shocked Ren was sothing else.
Every ti he encountered Izayoi and his companions, their growth was unmistakable.
The three so-called "Problem Children" of No Na were nothing like when he first t them in Little Garden.
Perhaps their powers had been suppressed in the ordinary world.
Or perhaps their protagonist aura was simply that absurd.
Whatever the reason—
Ren could clearly feel it.
Izayoi had grown stronger again.
Far stronger.
Compared to their last battle, his presence had sharpened, condensed, evolved.
He might have already crossed the boundary of five-digit rank…
And stepped into the realm of four-digit power.
..
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