Raishiki's face darkened. "Kushiki, I—"
"What do you what to me?" Kushiki cut him off, his smile vanishing.
"You think I don't know the real reason you kept me at your side?"
Raishiki fell silent.
"Blood Pack." Kushiki spat out the two words, each one carrying three thousand years of hatred.
"You needed a Blood Pack you could devour at any time, something to use to keep yourself alive when you ran into a life-or-death crisis."
"Just like how Suishiki devoured Moshiki."
His gaze swept toward the distant crater Suishiki had left behind, and the corner of his mouth pulled into a mocking curve.
"The difference is, Suishiki did it directly, while you, Raishiki, did it in an even more disgusting way—you had to wrap it in a layer of tender affection. All that 'I'll lead you to evolve,' all that 'you won't be treated badly if you follow me.' It's been three thousand years. What exactly have you led me to?"
Raishiki's fists clenched.
Veins bulged one by one on the backs of his hands.
"You thought I didn't know?"
Kushiki's voice rose.
"You thought I was a fool for these three thousand years? Every time evolutionary resources were allocated, the scraps you gave me were never enough for me to break through!"
"You deliberately kept me stuck at a level neither high nor low—strong enough to risk my life for you, weak enough for you to devour whenever you wanted!"
"How many blades have I taken for you? You know damn well!"
Kushiki's chest heaved violently. The handsomeness on his face was gone, replaced by a twisted madness that had been bottled up for three thousand years.
He clenched the Chakra Fruit tightly, his nails digging into its surface as crimson juice ran down through his fingers.
"Otsutsuki