---
The sky’s blue hue had long since vanished. Only stars remained above—a moonless night, perfect for bandits to strike. No fewer than 2,000 armed men approached, wielding axes, spears, maces, and cutlasses, all thirsting for innocent blood. At the front of their ranks, their leader sat atop a horse and bellowed:
“MY MEN, WE SHALL PILLAGE! WE SHALL RAID! THIS TOWN IS NOTHING BUT FOOD AND WEALTH! THE FūBA MAY HAVE THEIR LITTLE CHILDREN GUARDING IT, BUT THAT’S JUST MORE LOOT FOR US TO CLAIM!”
A chorus of roars answered him.
“CHARGE!”
But then... a presence. One that triggered a primal instinct to flee—not just retreat, but run and pray to survive.
It had arrived.
In the star-lit sky, a man appeared—standing upside down?
“Thousands o’ ya... just for this tiny ol’ town? How sweet o’ ya all, really... makes wipin’ ya out *so* much easier!”
He laughed hysterically, his grin wide and toothy, unhinged with battle-born delight. The wind tugged at his messy brown hair and the dark purple scarf draped around his neck, the Fūba clan’s seal—a sword piercing cloth—emblazoned upon it. Tall, with a lean, wiry build and sun-kissed skin, he looked almost too relaxed, too amused.
This strange figure was none other than **Shinji Fūba**, contender for Clan Head of the prestigious Fūba Clan.
“IT’S SHINJI, RUN!” one of the bandits cried in terror.
“Run? D’ye really think ye can outrun *my* ‘Commandment o’ Shihoa’?” Shinji said with a twisted grin as he snapped his fingers.
**Reality buckled.**
The wind froze. Light shimmered oddly. The very *concept* of motion fractured. The commandment didn't just affect the physical—it struck the metaphysical. Bandits stumbled, their limbs jerking unnaturally. One man swung his axe, but it moved like it was underwater. Another tried to shout but no sound came—his voice trapped behind teeth that wouldn't part.
Shinji hovered lower as panic spread through the enemy like fire through dry grass.
“This yer big ‘Commandment’? Bit o’ distorted air? Pathetic,” the leader spat, still untouched.
Shinji snapped again. “‘Commandment o’ Shihoa’... do yer job.”
**Screams.**
Then silence.
Bodies twisted. Backs arched at impossible angles. Skin bloated, ruptured, turned inside out. Eyes popped and organs swapped places. One bandit tried to crawl away with his arms bending backwards—another knelt, his mouth where his stomach used to be, drooling nonsense. Death would’ve been a kindness. *Shihoa* didn’t just stop motion—it stopped purpose, logic, identity.
Only their leader remained, untouched. Trembling.
Shinji floated down, voice light, almost bored.
“See now? That’s the difference between us. I’m *Shinji Fūba*—strongest candidate for Clan Head. And you? Yer just some no-name bandit leadin’ a corpse parade. Might as well do yerself in.”
He tossed a bloodied dagger—taken from one of the dead—into the man’s lap.
What happened next... you can imagine.
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---
In this world, four energies govern all things: Resolve, Theory, Empathy, and Collapse.
**Resolve**—the energy of conviction and will.
**Theory**—the energy of logic and structure.
**Empathy**—the energy of emotion and healing.
**Collapse**—the energy of destruction and unraveling.
These forces form a cycle.
Resolve beats Collapse. Collapse beats Theory. Theory beats Resolve.
Empathy? It stays neutral—unarmed, unthreatening, but deeply human.
Humanity has always known these energies, passed down through instinct or gift. Many believe a god granted us the ability to manifest philosophies into energy.
Those who master this power are known as **Philosophers**.
---
“Ms. Yuki, wake up.”
...
“Ms. Yuki, *please* wake up. You’re in the middle of a lecture—”
**BANG!** A textbook crashed onto the desk.
“Ms. Yuki, I’ve told you before—no sleeping in my class,” Professor Oniki scolded. She was sharp-eyed and brisk, with her dark brown coat stained faintly with chalk, and hair tied tightly behind her head. Her narrow glasses glinted with irritation.
Yuki looked up, barely lifting her head from her arms. Blonde hair fell in long strands past her shoulders, her straight bangs hiding her eyes entirely. A few strands stuck out as if defying order—just like her. Though she had a quiet, pretty face, there was a muted distance in her expression, like someone watching a world they didn’t quite belong in.
“Eh? But I’ve heard this lecture a thousand times. The four energies, philosophy, how it all works—”
“Then what are *Commandments*, since you know so much?” Oniki snapped.
“Commandments are philosophy techniques that impose rules within a radius or on a target. The rules match your philosophy, and depending on your energy focus, they apply differently,” Yuki answered, stretching lazily.
A few students chuckled. The professor fumed.
“You *do* know that to even qualify for Clan Head, you need Commandments, right?” Yuki added flatly.
“I... I forgot about that.”
“Class dismissed.”
---
“YUKI, THAT WAS SO COOL!” a voice rang out—and then came the tackle-hug.
It was **Yukina**, Yuki’s closest—perhaps only—friend. Short, with neat black hair tied up in ponytails, and a small scratch on her cheek from training she never bragged about. She had a gentle, cheerful face, always full of warmth no matter what Yuki said or did.
“That wasn’t really anything, y’know?” Yuki replied, hugging her back half-heartedly.
“But did you hear the rumors? They say your brother wiped out 2,000 bandits *alone*! Like, *seriously*! Your brother is the coolest!”
“You should meet him in person. That opinion’ll change fast,” Yuki muttered.
“That’s because he’s your *brother*! I think my little bro is lame too, but apparently he’s ‘awesome’ or whatever.”
“So Yumena’s cool now?”
“EHH?! No way! People are just crazy!”
Yuki laughed under her breath.
“Hey! Why are you laughing?”
“No reason. Don’t worry about it.”
“You nervous about the Clan Head fight?”
“Yukina. You’ve known me forever. You think I’d lose?” Yuki smirked. “I’m strong. Don’t fret.”
“If you say so...” Yukina still looked worried.
---
The Fūba estate was alive with talk of the Clan Head tournament—especially the unusual twist: brother versus sister.
The training grounds were packed. The clan elders sat high above, judging.
**Elder Renji**, plump and rosy-cheeked, chuckled as his jeweled robe shifted with every gesture. “The contenders look excellent.”
**Elder Anri**, narrow-faced and silver-haired with quiet, calculating eyes, adjusted her glasses. “I wonder how the siblings will fare against each other.”
**Elder Miko**, built like a wall and armored at the shoulders, grunted. “I just want a good show.”
**Elder Kurata**, pale and stiff-backed with ink-stained sleeves, added, “I’m betting on Shinji. He’s obviously the strongest.”
“Well then... LET THE TOURNAMENT BEGIN!” Elder Renji declared.
Yuki overwhelmed her opponents with brute strength and Resolve. Her fighting style was wild, chaotic, but passionate.
Shinji? Not a soul dared step forward. His reputation—and *Shihoa*—were deterrents enough. Until now.
Brother and sister faced off.
“I heard nobody fought you. Must’ve been boring,” Yuki teased.
“That’s what bein’ the strongest gets ya. You’d know\... if you were strong, lil’ sis,” Shinji replied with that signature grin.
“Huh? I *am* strong. Strongest here, probably. You hide behind Commandments. Without them, you're nothing.”
“Is that so? Then let’s go. No Commandments—just fists.”
The duel began.
Shinji didn’t even take a stance, yet was clearly ready. Yuki pounced.
She lunged in with a quick one-two. Shinji weaved both punches and slapped Yuki across the face. She quickly recovered and went for a liver punch, but Shinji sidestepped and countered with a gut kick.
“Bloody hell... I’ll just raise the temperature,” Yuki muttered, channeling her Resolve into her fists and diving in again. This time, she predicted Shinji’s dodge and hit him with a high kick to the chest.
“Gotcha,” Yuki said with a smirk.
But before she could continue, Shinji grabbed her leg and hurled her across the arena.
Spectators watched in awe. Yuki struggled to get up.
“Damn, that was my fault for standing still,” she thought.
She channeled wild Resolve, enlarging her attack radius. One-two punches that could end most fights. Failed liver shots that should’ve broken bones.
Getting desperate, Yuki picked up a rock and poured absurd amounts of Resolve into it.
“The hell are you doing?” Shinji wondered.
“I’m trying to survive,” Yuki responded coldly.
She threw the rock—it exploded from over-absorbed Resolve, creating a dust cloud. In that moment, Yuki converted all her energy into a single punch aimed straight at Shinji.
**“A Yuki original! Yukina’s inspiration!”**
While conceiving the plan, Yuki remembered Yukina’s words:
*"You should never give up, but adapt! Or whatever my dad said, I can’t remember."*
She owed this punch to her.
**“A punch to shut you up!”**
Yuki landed the punch—
—but Shinji blocked it with Theory energy.
“Wild Resolve is a favourite meal for Theory bounty hunters or assassins. Basic Theory easily counters whatever you tried,” Shinji said, blocking the blow with a single finger.
“Yuki, you’re my baby sister and I care about ya—but you’re extremely weak. Compared to people yer age, yeah, you’re strong. But the outside world would kill you the moment ya step out of yer bubble.”
Yuki fell to her knees.
“Yuki, I know yer want to explore the world—so I’ll do yer a favour and have yer do just that.”
“What do you mean?” Yuki looked up at her brother.
“I declare this fight over. I am now Clan Head. So for my first act—I banish my baby sister, Yuki Fūba, from the Fūba estate, 'cause she needs to get stronger by exploring the world beyond this city.”
The spectators gasped. The elders were stunned.
But then—
“Then so be it, as said by the Clan Head—Shinji Fūba,” Elder Renji announced.
“Starting now, Yuki Fūba is banished from the Clan Estate until she grows stronger,” Elder Miko confirmed.
Yuki stood up and went to leave. She was given supplies to survive for now—but other than that, she had to go.
Before that, she had to say goodbye to her best friend, Yukina.
==End of chapter==
