Chapter 465: WaKa-iKaZuchI

“GrEat Sin…GreaT SiN…did You CALL ME HERE? DID YOU TAKE MY REALM FROM ME?”

Izanami was speaking at long last. Her realm, she proclaimed previously, summoned these monsters.

So what would this cause? What did the goddess seek as the Earth split open? Jules and Matty took to the air. Booker jumped after them and managed to hang on to Feenie by her tail. Kazi Hossain was too fast in his Lightning Mode. He was already at a safe distance by the time the nauseating burst of electrical energy raged from the split.

Matsue Castle was caught in the crossfire, collapsing and then being incinerated to crisp. The clouds above came together and darkened.

“Huh?”

Kazi’s lightning form flickered. What was going on?

“YoUuu do NOt know tHese PeopLe…You sHoULD noT CaRe For TheM! IzaNaGi…our people…you shoULD haVe LEt THEM ALL DIE.”

Thunder struck. Once, twice, and then a hundred times, all falling into the pit of the Earth. Kazi’s left eye pulsed and he tried to see what lay beyond.

He could not believe what he foresaw.

“So..LeT theM DiE…slip through the heavens, my Thunder Kami…WAKa-IKAZUCHI!”

A hand rose from the abyss.

Colossal. Silver. Undeniable.

Sparks cascaded from the silver gauntlets. Sparks turned to arcs of red lightning that carrying enough energy to vaporize lesser beings. Space and time distorted, bending to this new presence as if the laws of existence itself yielded before its might. And as the figure pulled itself free from the depths of Yomi, the full force of its divinity was revealed.

Waka-ikazuchi, the Young Thunder, had arrived.

He was twice as tall as Kazi, his form encased in light-red armour. His flesh, his face, all were hidden from the eyes of the prying mortals by the armour. Only the white kabuto helmet lay bare to what it truly was.

Pure lightning.

The godling’s face was crackling red light with twin white storms burning within his skull as eyes. He was not an elder god. Not yet. His power had yet to reach the full force of divine thunder, but that meant nothing.

Even in its youth, a storm could still shatter mountains.

His gaze flicked upward.

To Feenie. To Jules, Matty, and Booker.

In an instant, the storm of his eyes answered his call.

A bolt of impossibly fast lightning—thicker than a temple pillar—ripped itself free from his white eyes and detonated against the sky.

Feenie spun. Feenie tried to dodge. Feenie never had a chance.

The moment the blast struck, the phoenix screamed and her feathers burned away in an explosion of embers. She was sent spiraling uncontrollably toward the ruined battlefield below.

Jules and Matty clung to her.

Booker had the sense and strength to react. Gripping Feenie’s tail feathers, he let go at the last possible moment, flipping midair before landing in a controlled slide against the ashen ground.

Feenie crashed.

Waka-ikazuchi the Young thunder, born of Izanami’s left hand. It was the first lightning strike, the weakest. He cracked his neck, arcs of red lightning snapping at the motion, before setting his gaze upon the only one left standing before him.

Kazi.

Kazi, in Lightning Mode.

Kazi, who was fast. Strong. Near-superhuman. A Class Five.

And yet—he knew.

The moment he felt the weight of Waka-ikazuchi’s presence, he knew.

This wasn’t a battle he could win.

Between Class Five and Class Six, the gap wasn’t a mere difference. It was a barrier. A threshold between man and god.

And Waka-ikazuchi… was in that threshold.

Kazi’s left eye pulsed.

His Foresight activated, pushing his perception forward—

He was already behind him.

A voice, deep as thunder itself, boomed from right behind his ear.

“What are you doing with those eyes of yours?”

Kazi turned.

He did not feel fear.

Fear was something he had long since discarded.

What he felt—what clawed at the edges of his mind like the storm itself—

—was hopelessness.

Kazi vanished. Turning into a bolt of golden light, he zigzagged through the black-stricken battlefield with all the speed he could muster. One moment, he was directly in the god’s path—the next, he was somewhere else entirely.

The Young Thunder was fast. Unbelievably fast. Twice as tall, thrice as heavy and he chased, his steps thumping and destroying the ground.

But Kazi was lightning itself. He dodged that beam of lightning that came from the god’s white stormy eyes. He dodged in his lightning form and then returned to his physical. The sudden loss of speed and momentum allowed the metal-clad god to catch up. To switch from magic to close-quarter combat.

One arm was raised and slammed down on him.

Kazi vanished again.

His body blurred between muscle and raw lightning, moving in short, unpredictable bursts. The very instant Waka-ikazuchi’s armoured gauntlet came crashing down, Kazi was already millimeters away. Yes, millimeters, because the god was not so slow that he could zip away far.

’Analyze.’

The joints. The movement. The sheer weight of the god’s armored form.

The arrogance.

Kazi didn’t need Foresight for this.

He saw it—how the heavy plates moved against each other, how they locked and unlocked as Waka-ikazuchi swung, how the golden filigree etched into the red metal crackled with divine energy. This design limited the god.

Kazi could predict it. And predictability meant survival.

He ducked low. The next strike came—a hammering fist that sent an earth-shattering boom through the battlefield. Kazi had already blasted away one meter, splitting into lightning for the briefest moment before reforming on the god’s left side.

He twisted midair, dodging again.

Each attack was just barely missing him—by millimeters. Kazi shouldn’t be able to dodge something moving this fast, yet somehow, he was keeping ahead. Just barely.

Then everything went black.

Kazi didn’t even process what happened.

There was no impact. No windup. No moment of warning.

One instant, he was moving. The next, he was flying.

Kazi spun through the air like a broken doll, flipping violently end over end before he slammed into the ruined ground, skidding so far that the very terrain caved.

A sharp, horrific pain flared up his spine.

His neck—

It should have snapped.

For a terrifying moment, everything felt distant, disconnected—his body refusing to obey him. However, his mana had not gone out. Like a burning fuse igniting, he felt his mana surge to new heights. This was Divine Healing Circulation and it was always there. Never was he so thankful for it and never would he ever keep it inactive. He coughed, his entire torso twitching violently as his body repaired itself.

Lungs restored. Neck aligned. Damage undone.

He was alive.

He shouldn’t be.

That single attack confirmed it—to Waka-ikazuchi, Kazi had been moving in slow motion.

The god hadn’t even tried. That was the terrifying part. He was outclassed.

A deep, thunderous voice cut through the silence. “You possess the ability to dematerialize into lightning.”

The air pulsed with static as the god regarded him, towering over his broken form. So damn fast!

“What are you exactly?”

Kazi had no answer. Divine Healing Circulations and Mastered Flow of Mana. He needed it all in order to stand a chance. His hair blonde and his eyes crackling, he was ready to hit it with his best attack. All he needed was an opening. One second where he could summon Gargantua Super Strike and shove it through those cloudy white eyes.

He asked.

Bang!

He received.

A single gunshot echoed through the battlefield. The armored god jerked slightly.

A bullet.

It hit.

A plume of anti-magic burst from the back of Waka-ikazuchi’s helmet, the bullet embedding itself through the kabuto helmet and into pure mana that was his form.

For the first time, the god staggered.

Kazi’s gaze snapped toward the source—

Booker Davis Jr, having snuck up and jumped and pressed the trigger.

The god’s head tilted slightly, processing what had just occurred.

The bullet had struck.

And the god hadn’t dodged it.

Not because he couldn’t.

But because he thought he didn’t have to.

Perfect. Arrogance. Kazi saw his opening. Booker did his job. He managed to get its attention for two seconds. Two seconds.

There was one gap in the armored titan—its face and eyes.

A red skull of electricity and white, storming pupils. The only possible weakness.

Kazi didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t. Not when he had an opening, not when Booker’s bullet had staggered a god.

Less than half a second—he gathered mana.

It swirled around him, golden and electric, the sheer power crackling against his skin. His arms burned. His muscles screamed. The Gargantua Super Strike was not a technique meant for half-measures. It was absolute destruction. A hundred feet of concentrated mana—pure force compressed into a single point—shoved forward.

GARGANTUA SUPER STRIKE.

A single breath.

Less than half a second to gather it.

Less than half a second to launch it.

The force of the attack carved a trench in the ground. The sheer heat sent thousands of the undead scattering in the distance.

Everything funneled into one singular point.

Right into Waka-ikazuchi’s storming left eye.

Kazi felt it.

Impact.

And then—

Nothing.

Not a deflection. Not resistance.

The attack vanished. Completely absorbed. The god didn’t even blink.

The storm in its eyes churned, swallowing the strike whole. The energy that should have obliterated everything in its path simply ceased to exist.

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