### Chapter 15: Blood Demon Death Arc – Inferno Veil

  Yuka’s smile never wavered.

  He raised both hands, calm as ever, and the air shimmered—Illusion Veil twisting into something deeper, darker.

  “Realm: Eternal Mirage.”

  The world changed.

  Reality folded into an endless burning cityscape—skyscrapers of flame, streets of molten glass, sky raining ash. Heat hit like a wall, thick and choking. Every breath tasted like smoke and lies.

  Then he started.

  “Fire Bomb.”

  A single orb of condensed crimson flame formed in his palm—dense, swirling, hotter than any natural fire. He tossed it casual, like skipping a stone.

  It detonated mid-air.

  BOOM.

  A sphere of fire expanded, scorching earth black, shockwave flattening debris. The gang scattered instinctive—Max’s shadows wrapping protective, Frosty’s frost flaring to shield, Mira’s crows diving for cover.

  But Yuka didn’t stop.

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  He spammed them.

  One after another—ten, fifty, a hundred—fire bombs raining in waves. Each bigger, hotter, spreading farther. Flames licked across the courtyard, jumping to buildings, to trees, to the air itself. Heat warped vision, ground cracked and glowed. The fire spread relentless, forcing everyone apart—Max dragged back by blast wind, Frosty rolling away singed, Jefferson swapping desperately to avoid walls of flame.

  Yuka kept going.

  Six hundred more.

  The realm fed it—illusions making fire feel endless, real enough to burn lungs and skin. The courtyard became an inferno sea, visibility zero, screams lost in roars.

  Then he stopped, hands glowing white-hot.

  “All-Out Bomb.”

  One massive orb—size of a car, swirling every color of hellfire—formed above him.

  He dropped it.

  BOOM.

  The explosion swallowed everything. A mushroom of flame and pressure rising high enough to crack the zone barrier overhead. Ground zero vaporized. Shockwave leveled blocks. Fire everywhere—roiling, consuming, absolute.

  When the smoke cleared…

  Everyone was dead.

  Bodies charred and still—Max’s shadows dissipated, Frosty frozen mid-scream in melted ice, Mira’s crows ash, Jefferson swapped into oblivion, the rest scattered like broken dolls. Flames licked over them gentle now, like a blanket.

  Yuka lowered his hands, smile unchanged.

  But Sky stood in the center.

  Cut marks crisscrossed his arms, face, chest—deep gashes from shrapnel and heat, blood running fresh down white pants and black shirt. Shirt half-burned away, exposing scarred torso. Hair singed at the edges, but he looked untouched otherwise—tall, steady, eyes sharp.

  He’d seen through it.

  The all-out bomb was real—brutal, killing blow.

  But the hundreds before? The spreading fire that separated and burned his friends?

  Illusion.

  He’d used the trick—Spatial Surge micro-barrier around himself at the last second, letting the real blast hit but weathering it. Cuts from the pressure waves, burns from the edge, but alive.

  The “bodies” flickered once—then vanished. Yuka’s realm wavered.

  The real gang—singed, coughing, but breathing—stumbled from cover behind warped space pockets Sky had pulled them into instinctively during the spam.

  Yuka’s smile faltered for the first time.

  Ray—standing back, rift energy humming—shifted to close on Sky.

  His aging touch lashed out—aimed perfect.

  But the realm’s lingering heat warped it. Ray’s hand clipped Yuka’s shoulder by accident—aging touch grazing skin.

  Yuka gasped—veins blackening instant, arm withering like old leather, years stolen in a heartbeat.

  Ray’s eyes flashed real anger.

  “You…”

  He turned on Sky, full bore now—rift energy exploding black-red, space cracking around him.

  Sky wiped blood from his lip, slow.

  “Wonder when you’ll ever stop holding back.”

  He reached up—pulled off the glasses he’d scavenged somewhere in the weeks alone, folding them casual and tucking them away.

  Eyes clear, sharp, limitless blue flaring faint.

  “Let’s get this started, Ray.”