# 661
Chapter 662: Can You Still Beat Me?
Mirror World.
Two figures rapidly shuttle through the mirrors of skyscrapers!
BOOM——!!!
A shard of mirror flies from the silver-robed Oracle Envoy's hand, rapidly enlarging like a blade as tall as a building, slashing through the street and leveling dozens of buildings, producing a deafening roar.
Billowing smoke rises everywhere.
In the smoke, Uncle Kyosuke holds an empty sword sheath, moving through the rubble with agility, dodging all attacks, the withered red rose at his waist swaying gently.
He glances back—the silver-robed Oracle Envoy flies like a bird across the sky, descending directly toward him!
BOOM——!!
The silver figure lands like a meteorite in front of Uncle Kyosuke, cracking the ground beneath with dense web-like fractures. The ground beneath cracks like a hammered mirror, seemingly about to shatter at any moment.
The silver-robed Oracle Envoy grips the 【Black Rope】 mockingly, looking at Uncle Kyosuke, and slowly speaks: "柚梨黑哲, just give up. With only that sword sheath, there's no way you can be my match..."
Uncle Kyosuke, wearing his flashy sequin suit, calmly replies, "Even with just a sheath, you still haven't caught me, right?"
The silver-robed Oracle Envoy's brow creases slightly. "That's only because your hypnosis and illusions are too cunning. It's just a Magatsu Blade, after all..."
"'Just'?" Uncle Kyosuke laughs. "Don't you have a Magatsu Blade in your hand? Go ahead, try drawing it."
The silver-robed Oracle Envoy's expression grows increasingly grim. He glances down at the 【Black Rope】 in his grasp, seemingly tempted.
The Magatsu Blade and its master have always been mortal enemies of the Oracle Envoys, yet the silver-robed Oracle Envoy has never actually held one—the blades can supposedly only be drawn by their rightful owners. He always had his doubts.
"Testing it won't change anything."
He wraps his right hand around the hilt and pulls with all his strength—but the 【Black Rope】, which had moved so fluidly in Haruka's grip, now sits immovable as stone. No matter how hard he strains, he cannot extract even a single inch.
Keep in mind, the Oracle Envoys are modified humans with immense power—he could shatter a building with a single punch. Yet this tiny Magatsu Blade completely defies him.
Uncle Kyosuke's smirk deepens at the sight.
"Hmph, boring." The silver-robed Oracle Envoy's face falls from embarrassment. He sheathes the 【Black Rope】 and fixes Uncle Kyosuke with a cold stare. "Are you stalling? Waiting for something? Those young ones who could actually threaten me have already fled. No one's coming to save you..."
"Who said the one coming to save me has to be human?"
Uncle Kyosuke seems to sense something shifting. He glances down at his waist, a knowing smile crossing his face.
A golden blur streaks from the mirror's surface, transforming into brilliant light that pours into the empty sheath at his hip—uniting with its blade to become whole once more.
Uncle Kyosuke's hand settles on the hilt, composure returning.
"Blade soul? This is the Mirror World—how did it get in here?" The silver-robed Oracle Envoy's pupils contract sharply.
"Blade souls can return to their sheaths across any distance. Didn't you know?" Uncle Kyosuke replies with a pleasant smile. "Oh, of course you wouldn't—since you can't even draw a single Magatsu Blade..."
Rage flickers in the silver-robed Oracle Envoy's eyes.
"Even with a complete Magatsu Blade, so what? The 【Illusory Pupil】 is nearly useless in actual combat. You still can't defeat me!"
He slams both palms together before him—the entire Mirror World shudders violently!
CRACK CRACK CRACK——!!
The mirrored reflections of buildings lining the street lift from the ground like two massive magnets, racing toward Uncle Kyosuke in the center. Against these towering structures, his form appears insignificant as an ant.
Yet he stands perfectly still, utterly calm, a serene smile playing on his lips as if something amusing has occurred to him.
The 【Illusory Pupil】 at his waist slides free from its sheath.
BOOM——!!
Two massive buildings collide with a thunderous roar. Countless shards of glass and stone explode outward while invisible shockwaves flatten the trees along the street.
Smoke and dust fill the air. The silver-robed Oracle Envoy's left eye pupils spin as he searches the narrow gap between the two structures for Uncle Kyosuke—finding nothing...
Gone?
Where did he vanish to?
"Looking for me?"
A voice drifts from behind him. His pupils shrink abruptly as he spins around, a mirror shard materializing from his palm and expanding into a blade forty meters long, sweeping toward the source.
The blade passes through Uncle Kyosuke's form as though he were made of air. Uncle Kyosuke stands there in his flashy sequin suit, hands buried in his pockets, wearing an amused grin.
"Another illusion..."
The silver-robed Oracle Envoy scowls, clearly frustrated. "So what if it's an illusion? You can only use the 【Illusory Pupil】 to escape—you can't launch a real attack. Drag this out any longer, and you'll be the one cornered."
"Is that so?"
Uncle Kyosuke's lips curve upward.
He gazes down at the golden blade in his hand and speaks with deliberate calm, "You're right—I can't harm you with the 【Illusory Pupil】. But I can use hypnosis to mislead you.
For example,
Do you really think that thing you just threw was a mirror shard?"
The silver-robed Oracle Envoy freezes. Something clicks in his mind, and he looks down at his own hands.
His left hand clutches a mirror shard.
But his right hand is completely empty...
If the mirror shard was in his possession, then what did he just hurl?
Dread creeps into the silver-robed Oracle Envoy's expression as realization dawns—when did Uncle Kyosuke's silhouette vanish from its original position?
The black longsword—【Black Rope】!
He'd actually thrown 【Black Rope】 away!
Uncle Kyosuke straightens, casually sliding the black blade onto his waist. Now two completely different blades hang from his belt. His right hand grips the golden 【Illusory Pupil】 while his left hand settles on the black blade's hilt, that knowing smile still playing at his lips as he smoothly draws the second Magatsu Blade from its sheath!
【Black Rope】 unsheathed!
Two blades—one golden, one black—rest in Uncle Kyosuke's grasp. The amusement drains from his face, replaced by eyes like still, deep water. A cold killing intent radiates from within.
"Now tell me—do you still think you can beat me?"
His resonant voice carries across the space.