Chapter 33: The Unthinking Sword

Chapter 33: The Unthinking Sword                 

“What does it matter?”

The boy picked up his fallen blade, gripping it tightly with both hands.

“Whether I can block it or not… is different from whether I will face it.”

From atop the stairs of Tenshukaku, the Raiden Shogun descended, one slow step at a time.

His body began to tremble—not from fear, not from divine pressure, nor the looming storm of lightning—but from excitement.

That sword strike…

It was the Musou no Hitotachi—the Unthinking Sword.

A strike that represented the pinnacle of all martial paths.

A blade forged not just of lightning, but of a god’s will and an eternity of stillness.

For countless warriors across time, it was not death, but glory to witness such a blade.

To face that one strike—it was the culmination of his lifelong pursuit.

A fleeting moment, perhaps, but one that held the slim chance… of turning everything around.

As thunderclouds gathered above, Kujou Sara let out a long sigh and stepped aside, clearing a path for her master.

The moment the boy had thrown down his weapon during the duel, the result had been decided.

And now, the strike he sought—that one perfect blade—was finally about to fall.

Crackling with divine lightning, the Raiden Shogun’s tachi—Musou Isshin—rested quietly in her hand.

Her footsteps echoed as she descended the long staircase of Tenshukaku, the platform transforming beneath her into something otherworldly.

It was no longer merely stairs—it was a ladder that reached the edge of the world.

And at its end, there was no paradise.

Only an endless storm, roaring and unforgiving.

Musou Isshin—a blade born from the god Baal’s authority.

Though unsharpened, its form had long since transcended the need for a cutting edge.

Its wrath could not be measured by shape alone.

The very air around it split apart from the raw pressure.

Reality itself bent to its presence.

As she reached the final step, the Raiden Shogun slowly opened her eyes.

For a moment, the boy thought he saw something in them—something more than the usual cold, godlike indifference.

Was it… a faint glimmer of light?

Behind her, the Eye of Stormy Judgment—the symbol of the Electro Archon’s absolute authority—materialized and rotated slowly, casting a violet glow across the battlefield.

“…Can I fight back?”

The boy’s voice was hoarse. His whole body tingled as static arced across his skin.

Goosebumps pricked his arms. Every hair stood on end.

“Do as you please.”

It was rare for the Shogun to speak at all.

Even rarer for her to respond directly.

And yet this time, her voice—unlike the indifference from earlier—carried a trace of softness.

Receiving her blessing, the boy raised his old, worn tachi.

Compared to Musou Isshin, his weapon was humble—scarred, its handle wrapped in fraying cord.

But in his grip, it pulsed with determination.

His Vision flickered to life, and threads of violet lightning laced along the blade.

Yet compared to the Shogun’s divine brilliance, his was a mere candle flickering beneath the moon.

A whisper of thunder beside a god’s roar.

The soldiers around the arena, along with the three Commission heads, had already prostrated themselves on the ground.

To look directly at the Shogun’s full might was to risk blindness, even death.

This was divine judgment.

A punishment from the heavens themselves.

Originally, the Tenryou and Kanjou Commissions had hoped this demonstration would intimidate the Fatui, hoping to leverage more benefits—Yet now, it was they who trembled the most.

The sky dimmed.

The sun itself seemed to yield before the coming of the Unthinking Sword.

And then—thunder cracked.

The Raiden Shogun raised her blade.

And struck.

In the boy’s eyes, her figure swelled, impossibly vast.

The blade she held stretched beyond the heavens.

Before this divine slash, he felt like an ant before a mountain.

His soul itself quaked with the instinct to run—to vanish.

But he didn’t run.

And he didn’t scream.

Instead, he lifted his blade—wreathed in meager lightning—and swung it upward to meet the heavens.

Toward that infinite strike…

Yes, all this time, his style had always been defensive.

But today—for the first time—he chose to strike first.

Clang!

The boy’s weathered blade, wrapped in flickering violet arcs, clashed against Musou Isshin, which burned with the wrath of the storm.

For a single heartbeat, time froze.

And then—

CRACK

The divine blade cleaved through his sword like paper, not even slowing as it struck him squarely.

BOOM—!

The thunderclap that followed devoured the entire dueling arena in a surge of blinding violet light.

Stone tiles shattered into dust, leaving only scorched earth in their wake.

Nearby, Bai Luo struggled to restrain the white cat in his arms, its fur puffed and body thrashing madly.

He dared not let go.

Because he knew—if he did—this cat would leap into that storm without a moment’s hesitation.

‘Did… did he send the cat here, knowing I’d be watching?’

Thinking on it, it wasn’t impossible.

This kind of duel—of course Bai Luo would show up.

And the boy… knew about his ability to become unseen by even gods.

‘Sigh… guess I’ll help him out this once.’

‘At least this much noise won’t blow my cover.’

As for one missing cat?

Nobody would care—not here, not now.

No beast, however fierce, would dare stand before that lightning.

Only a fool would.

And when the lightning finally faded, there was nothing left but scorched ground—and a boy’s lifeless body, smiling even in death.

Yes.

The Raiden Shogun, somehow, had preserved his form.

Though struck by lightning capable of reducing all to ash, he had not been scattered to dust.

“Give him a proper burial,” the Shogun said calmly.

Musou Isshin lowered to her side. With her free hand, she gently raised it to the air.

The boy’s Electro Vision slowly lifted from his chest, pulled toward her awaiting palm.

But before it could reach her—

“STOP!!”

Whoosh—BOOM!

A blade carrying violent wind tore through the air like a thunderclap, striking the floating Vision and knocking it away.

Standing at the edge of the arena, Kazuha’s figure straightened, arm still outstretched from the throw.

Behind him lay several Tenryou Commission soldiers—either unconscious or worse—scattered like broken dolls.

The calm, gentle wind that usually followed him had changed.

Now, it raged in chaos—mirroring his grief.

He caught the sword as the wind returned it to his hand, eyes heavy with sorrow as they fell on his fallen friend.

“…Forgive me… I wasn’t there in time.”

“Lord Shogun, be careful!”

A new figure burst from the crowd—Kamisato Ayato, who had until now silently watched from the shadows.

As Kazuha charged forward, Ayato moved to intercept, meeting him with sheer swordsmanship—no elemental power, no Vision glow.

Despite his graceful form, Ayato was no mere nobleman.

His strength had always been a mystery in Inazuma, and that mystery remained intact —because he hadn’t even needed his Vision to stop Kazuha’s attack.

Had it not been for Kazuha’s recklessness, Ayato wouldn’t have revealed himself at all.

But this wasn’t the time for restraint.

In the eyes of the court, it would look like he was just trying to earn favor with the Shogun.

But in truth, Ayato had stepped forward for another reason:

To give the Raiden Shogun pause.

To remind her that not all the Tri-Commission would silently stand by if she raised her blade again.

Because if she did—

Kazuha would not survive it.

And as expected, when Ayato stood between the Shogun and Kazuha, Musou Isshin lowered once more.

Even a god must tread carefully when the foundation of a nation is at stake.

The Kamisato Clan was too important.

If something happened to him, Inazuma would tremble.

Ayato’s mind raced, searching for a way to de-escalate the situation—when suddenly, a flash of crimson burst forth from beneath the sakura trees at the edge of the arena.

Another figure.

Moving with impossible speed, they dashed past the line of vision—not toward the Shogun herself—but toward the Electro Vision that still floated mid-air.

In one swift motion, they seized the broken blade once held by the fallen boy—and charged straight for the Vision.