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A vast, boundless world.

There was no sky, no earth, only an endless, void-like backdrop, as if composed of a weightless dream.

The ground beneath my feet twisted and changed constantly, occasionally forming sharp, deformed edges, like strange flowers blooming on the earth, before melting away in an instant and returning to the flowing Rainbow-colored.

The rainbow light twisted in mid-air, as if a mesmerizing Ukiyo-e had been brought to life, creating its own bizarre and fantastical scene. Light and shadow intertwined.

And at the highest point of this chaotic scene.

On the cliff.

There was a person sitting there.

His long hair was tied back with a hair tie, and the braids hanging down swayed slightly in the wind.

He sat there quietly, dressed in a simple, dark-colored robe, barefoot.

The wind seemed to have picked up, blowing his robes and braids.

He suddenly moved.

He leaped off the cliff, as light as if he had no weight, and fell straight into the distorted and ever-changing sea of light and shadow below.

In his hand, a clear and sharp azure light suddenly condensed, extended, and transformed into a long and pure energy blade.

Without a guard or any ornamentation on the hilt, the radiance itself is a form, flowing with a cold and resolute will.

He gripped the sword forged from light and swung it down at the surging sea of light and shadow below, a sea that devoured and gave birth to everything.

In the silence, a blue line, seemingly capable of separating reality from illusion, silently cuts into that chaotic Rainbow-colored.

In Setsuna, a wail of agony rose into the sky!

The sea of light and shadow, now cleaved open, boiled violently, like a giant beast whose wound had been ripped open.

Countless grotesque and terrifying "Yōkai," formed from pure negative emotions and chaotic energy, surged out of it in a frenzy.

Some resembled swollen human figures covered in eyes; others looked like skinned beasts dragging their entrails; still others were simply churning black mists with ever-changing, pained faces...

They roared and pounced on the one wielding the knife, trying to drag him into this boundless sea of madness.

The person wielding the blue Light Blade remained expressionless.

He bravely faced the surging tide of demons.

With each swing of the blade, a blue arc of light flashes, and one or more Yōkai waile and crumble, turning back into nothingness or vanished malice.

He weaved through the horde of monsters like a lone traveler in a blizzard, his blade the path he carved.

Wherever it passed, all evil spirits vanquished, leaving only the gradually calming, yet still bearing the marks of grotesque cracks on the surface of the sea.

The wails gradually subsided, and the demonic tide seemed to be calming down.

At that very moment.

A figure appeared in front of him without warning, blocking his way.

The man had long, unruly hair that stood on end like a black hedgehog, his face blurred in the backflow of light and shadow, only his eyes were calm and deep, as if reflecting the ancient starlight and abyss.

He held a sickle and a fan in his hands.

He didn't adopt an aggressive stance; he simply stood there, the fan in his hand slightly raised, as if merely wanting to stop them.

However.

The moment this long-haired obstacle appeared.

The person wielding the blue Light Blade acted without the slightest hesitation.

It was as if it had been anticipated all along, and had been awaited for a long time.

After forcing the opponent to draw their weapon.

Before the other party could react.

He stepped forward and turned slightly to the side.

He resolutely offered his unguarded neck to the scythe.

"Laugh--"

A very soft sound, like the sound of silk being torn apart.

The head, with its braided hair, separated from the body and was thrown upwards into the air.

The barefoot body remained leaning forward, paused for a moment, and then slowly fell backward, plummeting into the still-unsettled sea of light and shadow that had been cleaved apart.

The headless neck section was as smooth as a mirror, with specks of azure dust slowly dissipating.

The severed head tumbled in the air.

His face was calm, with a sense of relief.

His final gaze seemed to pierce through this distorted space-time, looking towards some unreachable distance.