Azzy smiled, a faint gleam of amusement in his eyes. "You have potential, indeed," he said, voice carrying clearly even across the arena.

He raised his arm, glancing down at the analog watch on his wrist with deliberate slowness. The hands ticked, marking the remaining time. He turned his gaze back to Aya, tilting his head slightly.

"You still have one minute and sixteen seconds of advantage," he said, his voice calm but carrying weight. "Would you like to do anything?"

Aya's white eyes glimmered with determination, her tails flicking aggressively as she crouched low, energy coiling like a spring ready to launch. The crowd leaned forward instinctively, knowing that the next minute would define the intensity of this battle.

The air around the training grounds was tense, thick with anticipation. Aya's chest heaved as she crouched low, white tails coiling behind her like serpents ready to strike. "That… was my strongest attack," she admitted, panting heavily. Her words were almost a whisper carried by the wind, but they carried weight. "I have… nothing else to show."

Azzy's calm gaze swept over her briefly, then shifted to Shuichi and the cluster of Minamoto elders observing from outside the barrier. His expression didn't change, but his voice carried the same measured authority. "Lord Fujiwara, there's still time. If you wish to help your clan member, anyone from your clan—any number of you—can come forward to block me and assist her in winning this wager. Should she succeed even then, I will grant your clan a Rank-10 Spirit Core."

A murmur ran through the elders. Some hesitated, subtle flickers of hesitation crossing their faces, as if the sight of Aya's humanoid nine-tailed form had left an indelible impression. A few of the younger men shifted uncomfortably, and whispers spread about how mesmerizing she looked, how the combination of her power and beauty was intoxicating. But Shuichi's expression darkened.

"We don't consider Aya a part of our clan," Shuichi said sharply, stepping forward. His voice carried like a whip across the grounds. "She was expelled long ago because of her immoral behavior—seducing others' wives, destroying marriages, and committing acts for her own amusement. No one from the Minamoto Clan will aid her in order to gain a Spirit Core. Make no mistake: this is not about her or any reward."

He paused, letting his words sink in. The elders' faces hardened, and the temptation in their eyes dimmed under the weight of Shuichi's authority.

Shuichi's gaze then softened just a fraction as he continued. "But, for the sake of preventing a disaster, we cannot allow her to be harmed in this battle. She may be expelled, she may have no honor among us, but she is still powerful. We will help shield her—not because she is one of us, but to ensure she does not fall into the wrong hands. Mobilize the senior elders. Shield her."

A subtle hum of energy began to ripple across the arena as the senior elders moved into position, their presence radiating authority and power. Even as Aya's form shimmered with residual soul energy, the barrier of human determination—the will of the Minamoto elders—was beginning to form around her, ready to intervene should Azzy move.

Aya's white eyes flickered briefly toward them, her grin returning despite her exhaustion. "Hmph… I didn't expect such courtesy," she muttered, tails flicking in amusement. Yet even as she spoke, a spark of respect glimmered in her eyes for the unity and discipline of her former clan.

Azzy's calm gaze swept across them all, his lips curving into the faintest smile. "Very well," he said softly, almost to himself. "Let's see how this turns out."

The tension thickened. Every spectator held their breath, knowing that the next exchange, even with Aya's allies surrounding her, would decide the outcome of the wager—and the shadow guards' future.

The four Rank-9 elders braced themselves, standing like statues around Aya as the scarlet energy swirled into an intricate lattice, a shimmering barrier that pulsed with raw demigod-level power. Every thread of energy glowed ominously, resonating with the combined might of the four masters. For a moment, it seemed as if even Azzy might hesitate. But he remained unmoved, a calm, confident presence amidst the swirling storm of power.

He glanced at the analog watch on his wrist, noting the seconds ticking past. The elders held firm, channeling all their strength into maintaining the barrier. They didn't attack; their focus was singular—to protect Aya and ensure the wager remained fair. Yet, there was an unspoken tension in the air. Even a barrier this strong could not hold forever against someone of Azzy's caliber.

As the timer ticked past the 270th second, Azzy's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Alright," he murmured, voice almost soft, "now, I'll make my move."

Without warning, a strange stillness fell over the arena. The wind froze mid-air, dust hung suspended in the sunlight, and even Aya's nine tails seemed to hang in unnatural suspension. Azzy's voice cut through the silence, barely audible. "Soul skill: Time Stop."

Everything around him came to a complete standstill, locked in a moment that felt eternal. Not a single feather of the fox's fur twitched, not a single breath escaped Aya's lips. The elders' scarlet barrier glimmered and pulsed, frozen in perfect symmetry.

And then, in an instant, Azzy closed the distance. The gap between him and Aya, guarded by the Rank-9 elders, disappeared in the blink of an eye. Time remained frozen for everyone else, but Azzy moved as fluidly as if nothing had changed.

He placed his hand against the scarlet barrier. Slowly, deliberately, he let Death energy seep from his palms. The dark, void-like essence coiled around the lattice of scarlet energy, unraveling it from within. Sparks erupted as threads of the barrier dissolved into nothingness. In a matter of heartbeats, the impenetrable demigod-level defense crumbled completely, leaving Aya exposed.

Azzy stood before her, his form calm and composed, the air humming faintly with the presence of his immense power. A shadowed aura clung to him as he raised his hand, and in the blink of an eye, a gleaming death scythe materialized, the edge gleaming with lethal intent.

He snapped his fingers. The faint, chilling sound reverberated through the frozen world. Even in a time-stopped state, the weight of the action seemed to ripple outward, a silent promise that the next instant would decide everything.

Aya's eyes, frozen in mid-blink, seemed to widen in surprise, even as she remained suspended in the grasp of time itself. The battlefield held its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash that would shatter the frozen moment.

The crowd collectively held their breath as time returned to its natural flow. Dust swirled lazily around the arena, and the scarlet remnants of the barrier dissipated into the air. Gasps echoed from the spectators, even from the senior elders who had stood their ground only moments ago.

Azzy stood before Aya, impossibly calm, the shadowed aura around him barely wavering. His scythe hovered with one edge lightly pressing against her neck, a silent statement of absolute control. Aya remained kneeling, her body tense but her expression unflinching.

Her gaze lifted slowly to meet his, a faint spark of admiration—or perhaps curiosity—glimmering in her eyes. "Is this… the power of a demigod?" she murmured, her voice steady despite the position she was in.

Azzy's eyes met hers evenly, his tone casual but edged with weight. "I don't know your circumstances or your story," he said, "but I know this much—you don't fear death. From what your clan leader said, I can tell you have no attachments. Your power… it makes me think you've never truly committed to anything. No wonder you're bored so easily."

Aya blinked at him, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. "Do I… have a goal?" Azzy asked softly, tilting his head.

Aya shook her head. "No."

Azzy's lips curved slightly. "How about I give you one?" His scythe retracted slowly, though his presence remained commanding. "Try to become the Shadow Guard Commander. If you succeed… if you actually manage it, I'll grant you a Rank-10 Spirit Core. And not just that—you'll face opponents strong enough to make you actually feel challenged, strong enough that boredom will become a memory. Do you want to try?"

Aya's eyes flickered with thought, her tails twitching slightly behind her in restrained anticipation. Azzy didn't wait for her answer. With a controlled motion, he raised the head of the scythe and struck firmly against her chest. Aya gasped sharply, coughing up a mouthful of blood as a small, precise hole appeared between her breasts. The impact was enough to pin the reality of her wager in front of everyone without unnecessary brutality.

She fell to the ground, the wound stark against her white fur. Yet even in that moment, Azzy did not waver. Raising his hand, a faint golden glow gathered at Aya's forehead. A life jewel formed, pulsing with steady energy. Slowly, deliberately, he released life force into her, mending the wound in an instant. The hole closed seamlessly, and Aya's labored breath steadied as if the strike had never happened.