Kurono was the first to protest.
“Don’t be stupid, Kurogane! You’ve already won! There’s no need for you to keep fighting!”
“Amane-kun’s power is extremely dangerous,” Ikki replied. “All of you need to stay focused on protecting the spectators, or people might die. Besides, I’m the one he wants to fight.”
“Kurogane!”
“The match is over, and I cut him badly enough that he lost consciousness, but he still wants to challenge me. You know I can’t turn my back on that kind of opponent.” Ikki turned to face Amane again and leveled his sword at him. He had no intention of retreating. After all, it was only now that Amane had become a worthy opponent. “You’ve finally got a good look in your eyes, Amane-kun.”
At long last, Amane had stripped away his facade and was showing Ikki his true colors.
Don’t worry, I understand your feelings very well.
“Nameless Glory is supposed to be invincible... There’s nothing it can’t do... There’s no wish it can’t grant... That’s how it’s always been. That’s why I was able to finally give up on myself!” The way he’d phrased those earlier words had made everything clear to Ikki. The fact that he’d needed to come up with an excuse to give up on himself meant that he’d never actually wanted to.
Indeed, completely giving up on your potential wasn’t something a normal person could do. In a way, it was more difficult than suicide. A person needed a truly compelling reason to convince themself to fully give up like that. For Amane, Nameless Glory had been that reason. And Ikki could easily understand just how much despair that must have brought him.
I was the same way, after all. A failure born into a famous family.
Kurogane Ikki had spent his childhood being rejected by everyone, his worth denied by all the adults around him. He’d been ready to use his lack of talent as an excuse to give up on himself too. His family had cornered him so thoroughly that he’d thought that was the only way out. But thankfully, before he could do so, he’d met Ryouma.
“It’s galling, isn’t it? Never let go of that feeling, boy. That bitterness is proof that you haven’t given up on yourself.”
Ryouma had given Ikki the courage to keep believing in himself. It was only because they’d met that he’d been able to continue fighting, and he was well aware of that. But Amane—or rather, Amamiya Shion hadn’t had such a fortuitous meeting. He’d had no one by his side. Not Kurogane Ryouma, not Kurogane Shizuku, not Stella Vermillion, no one. Everyone in his life had cared only about his power, never about him.
It was hardly surprising that he’d come to the conclusion that he himself was worthless. After all, it had been like he wasn’t even there. He’d wandered the world as a lonely specter, with no one looking at him. It was only by telling himself over and over that it was only natural, that there was nothing he could do, that he’d been able to convince himself to give up. Ikki knew how painful that must have been.
Which is why...
There was only one thing for Ikki to do. He’d walked his chosen path because he wanted to become someone who could give others the courage to keep believing in themselves and their potential—because he wanted to become someone like Ryouma.
“You hate me, don’t you? You can’t accept that I was able to do what you couldn’t. Go ahead, come at me with all your hatred! Using everything I have, I’ll root out your resignation!”
As he said that, Ikki activated Ittou Shura, and his body was enveloped in pale blue light.
“Graaaaaaah!”
Screaming incoherently, Amane launched his countless black arms at Ikki. He had far more mana than Ikki, so even using Ittou Shura wasn’t enough to create a functional barrier against those arms. A single scratch would send Ikki to the afterlife. Despite that, he charged forward rather than retreating to safety.
“Haaaaah!”
Using his fastest techniques, he cut down the arms directly in his path and avoided all the others. He didn’t stop for even a second. Like a moonbeam cutting through the night sky, he streaked through the barrage of black arms. The sight was so captivating that the audience stopped running and turned to watch.
“U-Unbelievable!”
“He already won the match, and he’s still going?!”
Ikki had no obligation to stop Amane himself. The audience couldn’t understand why he was still fighting. But they could tell just by looking at his expression that this was something he felt he had to do.
“You got this, Kurogane! Don’t lose!”
“Beat the shit out of that cheating bastard!”
“Go, Ikki-kuuun!”
This wasn’t even a match anymore, but the crowd cheered Ikki on regardless. Ikki sped up even more as they cheered him on, easily slipping past the countless hands of death that reached out to him.
“Concentrating his power has backfired on Ama-chan,” Saikyou said, nodding to herself.
“How so?” Iida asked.
“It’s true that by concentrating his power, those hands can kill anything they touch, regardless of what process they have to create to make it happen. There’s nothing Kuro-bou can do to save himself if any of them touch him. But by focusing his power this much, Ama-chan has abandoned Nameless Glory’s greatest strength.”
“Which is?”
“Its spontaneity. Until now, Ama-chan’s just been wishing for things. ‘It’d be nice if this happened’ or ‘I’d like for things to end up like this.’ Because he kept his desires vague, it was hard to guess at how exactly Nameless Glory would twist things in his favor. After all, even Ama-chan himself didn’t know, and he’s the one using the Noble Art. While Kuro-bou was able to correct for the errors it made him make, he was never once able to actually avoid being hit by Nameless Glory. But now that the power’s been concentrated so much that it’s visible, he knows what to avoid. Ama-chan’s controlling those arms manually too, which means there’s intent behind each of their movements. And reading a foe’s intentions is Kuro-bou’s specialty. Even if Ama-chan had a thousand arms, it wouldn’t be enough!”