154: The Three Heavenly Kings Sacrificed, The Great Serpent Reborn

As Xuangang reached this point, Mutou watched Kyo Kusanagi execute his ultimate finishing move against Yashiro Nanakase. A brilliant sheet of flames enveloped Yashiro. Since Yashiro was suspended mid-air at that moment, he had no way to channel the damage into the earth, and thus absorbed the full force of the blow directly.

Not stopping there, capitalizing on the moment before Yashiro could recover his breath, Kyo lunged forward to chain into yet another ultimate finishing move. A towering pillar of fire once again engulfed Yashiro, within which Kyo struck rapidly, every blow landing squarely on Yashiro's body. His heavily muscled physique, attuned to the raw might of the earth, was scorched by the raging inferno. Even within his icy-cold gaze, a flicker of pain emerged as he endured the relentless torment of physical force and fire, causing his very senses to grow numb.

Unrelenting in his furious assault, Kyo delivered one final, heavy punch that knocked Yashiro to the ground.

"Heh, heh, heh... Descendants of the Three Sacred Treasures, you certainly live up to your reputation!" Yashiro wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his silver hair singed black by Kyo's flames. "What a pity. The deities are about to descend, and I cannot continue battling such powerful opponents!"

With those words, he flipped backward, once and then again, nimbly darting across the battlefield toward the area where Iori Yagami and Chris were fighting. "Heh!" Reaching out, Yashiro grabbed an unsuspecting Iori and slammed him heavily onto the ground as if he were a sack of sand. In his awakened state, Yashiro's grappling prowess was peerless; even an elite warrior like Iori could not defend against it when caught off guard.

Possessed of immense pride and arrogance, Iori was incensed at being thrown to the ground before a gathering of numerous fighters. With a furious roar, he leaped back to his feet, tearing his hands through the air as though trying to rip apart space and time. Sliding fiercely across the ground, he flashed rapidly to Yashiro's side, unleashing one of his most infamous signature techniques: the Ghost Step!

"Go to hell!!" Iori roared in a near-hysterical shriek, his hands curling into claws and spinning like a blossoming flower: the Forbidden Text 1211th Style: Maidens' Masquerade. Mutou's eyes flickered with excitement. Both of these techniques were skills that could be imitated and learned, though... the imagery of the Maidens' Masquerade was far too frantic and unhinged.

"Heh! These are the techniques of my divine clan, and yet you dare use them against me!" Yashiro laughed, holding a single arm protectively before him. Although his arm was shredded to ribbons by Iori's grasp, the true damage was successfully channeled away into the earth beneath him.

Refusing to yield, Iori swung his right arm in a graceful arc, launching a dark projectile, but the desolate, brilliant purple flame failed to materialize.

"Why... why?!" Iori stared down at his pale palms in disbelief.

"Heh. O children of my Heavenly God Clan, how could you ever use the flames I bestowed upon you to harm the heavenly kings who are as noble as we are!" A smiling Chris said faintly, "Your 'fire' has already been reclaimed by me..."

"Impossible!" Iori screamed internally. "My Yagami bloodline possesses the flame by nature!" For a moment, Iori stood frozen in place. To an elite warrior who had lost his power, life was worse than death.

Yashiro, Chris, and Shermie did not seize the opportunity to attack Iori. Exchanging glances, they spoke in unison, "Time is up. The moment for the deities to awaken has arrived... Now, let the ritual begin!"

At that exact instant, a piece of information flashed through Mutou's mind like lightning: That was it. For Orochi to be resurrected, they were offering a sacrifice. Therefore, it should be...

Beneath the watchful gaze of the fighters gathered in the plaza, Yashiro did the unthinkable. He suddenly grabbed Shermie, who stood beside him, and roared, "I am coming with you!" With that, he slammed Shermie brutally onto the ground.

Zigui let out a sudden, frantic cry. Before Mutou could grab him, Zigui had already rushed forward to scoop Shermie into his arms. Strangely, Yashiro made no move to stop him. Seeing blood pouring from her nose and mouth, making it clear she was beyond saving, Zigui felt a wrenching grief as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. He was truly, deeply in love with this woman.

"Yashiro..." Zigui roared, entirely disregarding the disparity in power between them. A metallic sheen flashed across his garments as he activated his combat armor. However, just as he summoned his floating cannons and aimed them at Yashiro, he saw Yashiro strike Chris in the chest with the palm of his hand, followed by an upward roar. A monstrous wave of aura surged from his entire body, causing the surrounding ground to crack under the sheer pressure.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha... Tremble, mortals! The deities of my clan are about to cleanse the earth!" With those words, the cold light in his icy eyes vanished, and his body slowly sank to the ground... He had actually committed suicide!

"Of course, they were sacrificing themselves to summon Orochi!" Mutou understood in a flash, though the rest of the onlookers remained bewildered, completely failing to understand why the trio had chosen to end their own lives.

"Zigui..." Shermie, cradled in Zigui's arms, was still breathing. She opened her lovely eyes and gazed at him affectionately. Zigui was overjoyed. "You're not dead yet! That makes things easier!" As he spoke, he rummaged through his spatial bracelet and produced a single bean—their standard-issue miraculous item, the "Magical Bean."

"This bean can cure any severe injury. As long as there's a breath left in you, it can bring you back," Zigui comforted her.

"No..." Shermie weakly refused, the awakened chill in her gaze completely gone. "As a Heavenly King of the Heavenly God Clan, I was destined to sacrifice everything for the god of my people." Her willpower remained steadfast.

Zigui clutched her tighter. "Are you afraid your god will punish you? Don't be afraid, come with me—even your god won't be able to find you!"

Shermie smiled faintly. "It's not fear... This is my mission; I exist for this purpose... Only, I have one unfulfilled wish!"

Zigui paused slightly. "What wish? Tell me!"

Instead of speaking, Shermie closed her eyes slightly, her seductive lips parting in a subtle pout—a clear invitation for Zigui to kiss her.

Under normal circumstances, Zigui would have jumped at the chance, but with Shermie on the verge of death from grievous wounds, his heart was filled with boundless sorrow. Even so, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to Shermie's, parting her pearly teeth with his tongue and greedily drinking in her sweet nectar.

Suddenly, however, he felt a surge of electrical energy erupt from Shermie's mouth, nearly paralyzing his entire body. A jolt of panic struck his heart: "Could it be that she's afraid of being lonely in death and wants to drag me down with her?"

Before he could react, Shermie grabbed his hands with both of hers, channeling wave after wave of electrical power into his body. Yet, far from being charred by the electricity, Zigui felt a wave of warmth spread through him, as if a new wellspring of power had been added to his physique. Shermie gently pushed his face away and smiled lightly, "There! It is no loss for me to give my life to the divine clan. My only regret is the power of thunder and lightning I commanded—I leave it with you as a parting gift!"

As she spoke, Shermie's body gradually grew ethereal and translucent. Knowing he could do nothing to keep her, Zigui let loose a torrent of tears that dripped onto her steadily vanishing form.

"I am taking your tears with me!" Shermie smiled faintly, finally dissolving into nothingness as though she had never existed at all. On the other side, Yashiro's body similarly grew ethereal and translucent just like Shermie's. Only Chris, who had been struck down by Yashiro's palm, managed to stagger back to his feet, though he remained half-crouched, wearing an expression of agonizing pain.

Yet, as the two Heavenly Kings of the Orochi Hakkesshu fell, Chris seemed to draw upon some hidden reserve of power. He slowly floated upward, hovering in mid-air. Then, Chris extended his hands, his solemn gaze fixed ahead. After a brief pause, he suddenly looped his arms inward and drove them deep into his own chest!

Amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, several arcs of crimson blood spurted forth. His heartbeat ground to a sudden halt, and he slowly drifted back down, crouching once more upon the ground.

"This... is this Orochi's resurrection ritual!?" The successors of the Three Sacred Treasures finally understood. The fighters present were utterly paralyzed by the sheer grimness and intensity of the ritual, stunned into total immobility.

"Orochi... has resurrected!" Mutou declared suddenly. In tandem with his words, a solemn, oppressive atmosphere blanketed the KOF arena. A mass of dark clouds drifted in from nowhere, and from their midst, a blinding shaft of white light pierced the sky, enveloping the lifeless physical vessel of Chris.

And so, right before the eyes of the numerous fighters, Chris's previously youthful and underdeveloped body abruptly expanded. His original orange-short hair transformed into a stark silver-white, and his swelling physique tore through his clothes. The bleeding wound on his chest healed instantly, morphing into a dark circular pattern that extended outward to cover his entire upper body.

With Chris's mutation, a violent earthquake shook the KOF arena. The sky turned gloomier than ever, layered with heavy storm clouds. Purple-black lightning danced wildly through the surroundings, and fierce, mournful winds howled, sweeping across the stadium. Within the darkness, pinpricks of light flickered—purple flames, burning just like Iori's.

A bizarre sound rang out, echoing like chanted Sanskrit: "Let everything return to nothingness!" Silver-haired Chris rose into the air, moving in slow motion amidst a trail of afterimages. With arms outstretched, a dazzling radiance erupted across the entire arena, unleashing a violent wave of energy directed at the gathered crowd. "This! It's Orochi's signature move, Sun Press! It's clearly the exact same skill as the bald guy's Divine Punishment Ray, except its power is on a completely different scale!"

Mutou instantly deployed the Immortal Execution Sword Formation, enveloping himself, his companions, and nearby fighters like Mai Shiranui and Andy within its protective barrier. He could feel the surrounding kinetic energy surging violently. Some unprotected fighters were blasted far away by the shockwave of Orochi's entrance, bleeding from the nose and mouth; even if they survived, they were left completely unfit for further combat.

Such immense power! This heaven-shaking might was no inferior to the Dragon King of old, and perhaps even surpassed it—it was the suffocating oppression of facing an absolute sovereign.

"Is... is this Orochi?" Chizuru Kagura, Kyo Kusanagi, and Iori Yagami remained unbowed by the terrifying pressure. Empowered by the Three Sacred Treasures, they managed to withstand Orochi's S-rank skill. Yet, to their bewilderment, Orochi did not appear monstrous or vicious; instead, he looked like a handsome young man.

"No," Mutou said abruptly. "Orochi is the embodiment of the Earth's will. He can only manifest in the form of a 'soul,' meaning he has no fixed physical body and must rely on 'vessels' to appear before mortals.

The 'vessel' this time is formed by Orochi borrowing the physical forms of Chris, Shermie, and Yashiro, using Chris's body to forge his physical shell. This is the master of the legendary, ultimate, and most terrifying dark power..."