The Saint moved behind him, cutting down trees quickly to reach Sairi's neck as he ran in front of him. But Sairi lunged to the right behind a tree. The Saint cut the tree, and Sairi ducked his head, which was almost cut off with it. Then he jumped onto the huge, collapsing tree and began to run on it. Then he jumped off it and landed on the Saint, who was searching for him behind the tree. He plunged the sword into his shoulder and tried to embed it, but the Saint's body was solid. Sairi inserted a quarter of his sword into his shoulder and could not go any deeper.

The Saint screamed in pain and hit Sairi, who was clinging to his sword, with a powerful backhand blow that sent him flying to collide with a nearby tree, but he took his sword with him. Sairi felt his body groaning in pain and his head spinning, but time was not on his side, as he found the Saint waving his sword in the air, creating an air current full of blades that began to wound Sairi's body and dig and cut into the tree behind him. Many of Sairi's clothes and skin were torn, and blood bled profusely from his various limbs. Then he saw the Saint lunging with the tip of his sword to stab him.

Sairi pushed with his field, pushing the Saint back, and felt his wounds burning him. He hid behind the trees and went deeper into the forest, cauterizing his wounds with the thermal sword so as not to die from excessive bleeding, while suppressing his strong desire to scream. He heard the Saint behind him using that blue sphere in whose field dozens of fast blades moved, cutting everything in front of them. He quickened his pace away, cauterizing his wounds at the same time.

Suddenly, he found himself inside one of these spheres. His eyes widened because he knew that the Saint created one sphere at a time. But it appeared to him now that the Saint had been taking it easy on him, thinking that Sairi was easy prey that he could eliminate. Sairi closed his eyes and protected them with his arms. The blades moved, wounding his body with deep wounds. Suddenly, Sairi's left hand was cut off, and his left eye was wounded with a vertical cut that deprived him of vision in it.

He suffered severe, dangerous wounds that could kill him if he moved. Sairi screamed until his voice reached the sky. The Saint knew that he had caught his prey, so he smiled and walked toward the source of the scream, placing his hand on his deep shoulder wound. Sairi felt his nervous system being torn to shreds from the severity of the pain and the wounds that hit him all at once.

He saw the bag in which he had hung the crystal had fallen from his waist, and the crystal was exposed. He wrapped the bag around it with his sound right hand, lifted it to his mouth, and held the bag tightly with his teeth to stifle his screams and pain, and at the same time carry the crystal so that it would not fall from him and fall into the hands of the Saint. Sairi's eyes turned red, and he was overcome with anger that drove him to the point of madness.

Sairi was from the Yakuza, the most dangerous Japanese gang, and was famous for his bloodthirstiness and killing his enemies by the most heinous means. He loved using the katana sword that the samurai used in the past in fights where cold weapons such as knives, razors, and cleavers were used. But if he was wounded, he would turn into an angry, raging demon who killed everyone around him, even if they were his friends. He could never control his anger. It was as if it were a curse he was born with.

However, this curse only worked if he was wounded deeply. Blood would quickly rush to his face, turning it red, his body would boil, billions of cells in his brain would be stimulated, adrenaline would flow, and then the monster would emerge from its slumber and kill everyone in front of him, not waking up until his soul had calmed down, then looking around at the pools of blood in horror.

But he turned to monasticism after killing his little brother and his best friend in one of his fits of rage during a fight with other Yakuza gangs. He felt deep remorse and cried a cry he had never cried in his life. He sat for months unable to sleep, his side finding no comfort in bed without that bed disturbing him. He saw the image of his brother haunting him, and his friends, and nightmares chased him until he went out wandering aimlessly in the streets of Japan, staggering like a drunkard, crying and wailing and hitting his head until his thoughts calmed down.

Then he wandered and wandered until his eyes fell on a Buddhist temple, so he went to it in search of peace. The monks began to teach him meditation, introspection, anger management, and trying to reconcile with his past and repent. He spent three years sitting in the midst of nature, breathing the fresh air, calming his troubled soul, and trying to curb his angry demon and shackle it with fetters and chains that restrained it from coming out.

He was able to calm his fits of rage and felt peace after toil, effort, and long patience, but he was always afraid of this angry demon inside him. And here it had awakened after years. Sairi's face turned red, and his blood boiled. He cut a piece of his clothes and tied it around his severed arm to stop the bleeding temporarily. He carried his sword and the crystal bag with his teeth and turned to the Saint, his breath loud and audible, and his heartbeats like a drum echoing throughout the forest.

The Saint smiled and extended his hand to him.

"Give me the crystal and become one of my disciples, and do not throw your life away. There is no point in continuing this fight. I can fix your hand with an artificial one."

Sairi looked at him with an eye filled with hatred and charged toward him, striking him with his sword with strong, fast, successive blows. The Saint was surprised and retreated with firm steps while blocking his blows. He did not expect this wounded lion to fight after all these deep wounds and lost limbs.

The Saint said as he blocked his crazy, fast blows,

"You are like the Lunix then, and the Prince's men. You fight to the death, even if all your limbs are cut off."

Sairi began to strike with his thermal sword with stronger and faster blows than before, and the Saint blocked them with one hand after his shoulder was injured, so he could no longer hold his sword with both hands, which cost him a great advantage.

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