031 (Vol 4) HxH: Tombbound Power

"Thank you, Nasubi… my dear brother… for helping me clear the path."

His voice was hoarse—clearly, his body was in terrible shape.

Yet, as he spoke, Tenshou's eyes shone even brighter—tinged with a trace of madness.

Before Nasubi's trusted guard could react, a sudden burst of brilliant aura flared from Tenshou's gaze—something no one had expected.

Nasubi never knew that Tenshou had awakened Nen. His Aura Nodes had been forcibly opened by an assassin, a near-death experience that ended up unlocking his potential in a cruel twist of fate.

Had Nasubi known this earlier, he never would've approached Tenshou so casually, flaunting his own victories like a conquering hero.

He had always been cautious—calculating. He understood the kind of resentment that could build in a survivor with nothing left to lose. He never took unnecessary risks.

But victory—so close, so certain—had dulled his instincts. He let his guard down.

And when he needed someone to gloat to, someone powerless and defeated to listen to his triumphs, who better than the terminally ill Tenshou?

So he came. He talked. And he walked right into a trap.

...

Over the past few days, Tenshou had been focusing all his energy on mastering the ability he'd awakened: Eternal Soul.

Once he understood the core mechanics and limitations, a single thought rooted itself in his mind:

This is my chance. I can still win.

He told no one. He didn't even use his Nen to heal his body or circulate his aura. He kept it hidden—at all costs. Even the slightest sign that he had Nen could expose him.

So he remained bedridden, his health deteriorating by the day, and watched helplessly as the events unfolded.

He watched Nasubi execute his half-sister, Nugan—the one who had cared for him like a mother.

He watched Nasubi butcher his most loyal guards and housekeepers.

Even his fiancée, who was to become his queen, was tortured to death in ways too inhuman to describe.

Nasubi turned all their deaths into grotesque justifications for shielding himself, twisting every loss into an excuse to fortify his own Nen defenses.

Tenshou had to swallow his fury, suppress every emotion in pursuit of the throne.

When Nasubi finally eliminated every other prince, Tenshou knew the moment had come.

The arrogant Nasubi would come. He'd gloat. He'd monologue. That was who he was.

Tenshou knew this because he, too, might have done the same.

But if Nasubi didn't show up—or if it wasn't Nasubi who came—then everything Tenshou had endured would be in vain.

He was gambling it all.

And he won.

Nasubi came to his bedside—alone—looking down on him like a victor.

So, at the final moment, Tenshou put his plan into action.

The ability [Eternal Soul] worked only under specific conditions: if the user was clearly the weaker party, and if they could lock eyes with their target for ten uninterrupted seconds, they could initiate a soul swap.

With fellow Kakin royalty, the requirement was minimal—just sustained eye contact.

For unrelated targets, the process was far more complex.

But for Nasubi, it was simple.

And so, as Nasubi stood over him, Tenshou triggered the ability.

Before the real Nasubi—or his elite guard—could respond, their souls were swapped.

Tenshou's consciousness flooded into Nasubi's body.

Nasubi's soul was forced into the weak, broken shell lying in bed.

The activation was instantaneous and could not be interrupted.

Even as the trusted guard struck down the body on the bed with a telepathic blow, the switch had already occurred.

The blow reduced the bed and its occupant—now Nasubi—to rubble.

...

"...Why am I still standing there?"

That was the last thought Nasubi ever had. In the very next moment, a Nen strike tore through him—his own loyal guard delivering the final blow, none the wiser.

He never understood what happened. A prince at the edge of victory, gone in an instant—killed by his own hand-picked protector.

Irony doesn't even begin to describe it.

It was his arrogance that destroyed him. The final monologue. The urge to gloat.

It's a universal truth—villain or not: talk too much, and you die.

...

Now, occupying Nasubi's body, Tenshou had the last laugh. He had become the sole survivor—the final prince.

As the soul exchange completed, he subtly used Nasubi's own aura to inflict controlled internal damage.

"Pff!"

Blood sprayed from his mouth. At the same time, he contorted his expression—just enough to resemble Nasubi's signature look: narrowed eyes, cold and calm, with a faint trace of irritation.

It wasn't anger. It was worse—something colder, more chilling.

The guard immediately knelt in panic, offering desperate apologies.

To him, there was no doubt: the aura spike that burst from the corpse on the bed was a final attack from a dying enemy.

His master—Nasubi—had been wounded only because he, the guard, had failed to protect him properly.

The idea of a soul swap never even crossed his mind.

And so, the true victor—Tenshou—smiled silently behind the mask of his enemy, playing the part to perfection.