Sengoku Youko's third cour confirms mangaka Satoshi Mizukami as master of the unexpected plot development, as his tale writhes and coils into and out of itself, with small story seeds blooming to fruition in extremely satisfying, narratively rich ways. Mizukami plays with the tropes of, and expectations for, shonen action stories, producing a dense, concentrated work that still manages to cram in multiple extended fight sequences.

This isn't so much a new arc as a direct continuation of the previous cour's, kicking off with most of our characters debating with the Mountain Goddess (one of my favorite characters, who sadly mostly takes a backseat from now on) about what to do with the Void People. They're a shadowy group who first appeared at the end of the first arc, and were implicated in Jinka's power-fuelled descent into madness. Unafraid to use underhanded techniques, they'll happily enslave thousands of innocent katawara, sending them to fight to their deaths, in service of their mission.

As the most powerful member of his group, Senya sees it as his responsibility to stop them. He tries to run away and do everything himself. Although at this stage he doesn't realize it, he remains tortured by the guilt of accidentally killing Tsukiko's father eight years previously. He's terrified that his continuously growing power will put his friends in danger – it doesn't help that both the Mountain Goddess and shady monk Yazen put thoughts in his head that he'll eventually transmogrify into something non-human.

Thousandfold Chaos Arc's second half continues Mizukami's musings on the nature of power and personal autonomy. In his heart, Senya's a pacifist, and he's willing to sacrifice himself and happiness if it means a better life for those he loves. Subsequently, he's completely unwilling to fight against, thereby harming, the Void People's slaves, using Spirit World Observation to free each mind-controlled katawara individually. As the stakes rise ever higher, and new combatants join the battle, Senya grows in power and awareness, along with the one thousand katawara bound to his soul. Instead of something monstrous, he becomes a holy, god-like shining being with multiple outstretched arms conferring grace on all he touches. This is accompanied by the katawara in his soul becoming almost monk-like, praying, shining figures. Senya and his enlightened katawara develop a truly symbiotic relationship, completely trusting one another, which is a superpower when it comes to later psychological battles – he has access to the mental power of another thousand minds.

Of course, even a god-like Senya can't do everything himself. The battle against the Void People on the grounds of the Dangaisyuu Temple rages for eight whole episodes, taking in multiple smaller skirmishes. Tsukiko's justifiably pissed off that Senya ran off without her – despite the fact she's a mere human, she's handy with a sword, plus now also brandishes a magic gourd that can both drain and spew magical energy, handy in the battle against the berserk cloud katawara Banshou-oh. Senya's two father figures battle each other in a long-awaited showdown – dragon-wielding Jinun, controlled by the Void People, against the hedonistic and free tiger-wielding Douren. The episode devoted entirely to their tragic backstory together is a highlight of the entire series and goes a long way to explain why Jinun raised Senya the way he did. All of his talk of perfecting Senya as an emotionless weapon was driven by his inability to process the grief of losing his wife. Once Douren beats some sense into Jinun, finally he's able to shed tears for the first time. The aftermath of their battle is heart-rending.

Dragon boy Mudo has grown a great deal in the past eight years – still fixated on fighting Senya, but more in a friendly rivalry kind of way, much like Jinun and Douren. Mudo even becomes Douren's pupil, exchanging his raw dragon power for more refined martial artistry. I love that he now acknowledges Tsukiko respectfully as a fellow fighter, even as he threatens to “make her his” by finally beating Senya! Mudo's tear-filled reaction to Douren's fate is unexpectedly visceral.

Making a fashionably late return (after twenty episodes of absence), fan-favorite pink-haired Shakugan makes a splash in her new rock-formed bikini and skirt combo, shame it's because the Void People are mind-controlling her. This gives Shinsuke something to do, though. He equals Senya in terms of significant character development – apart from his continued attachment to booze, he's almost Buddha-like in terms of enlightenment, effortlessly freeing Shakugan and all the other katawara from mind control. Turns out he's the one who taught Senya the mystical Spirit World Observation skill that's used for so much thematic heavy lifting in the final few episodes, and he's a veritable master at it.

Despite the overstuffed, overlong Dangaisyuu Temple battle featuring all manner of different match-ups and styles of fighting, in true Mizukami style, it's not might that resolves the central conflict, but mutual understanding and negotiation. Shinsuke and Senya's Spirit World Observation allows them to see the truth at the heart of people's struggles, including their own. The Void People's control only works on those who can't face their own weaknesses. When faced with his own shame, Senya first tries to attack it, to beat it into submission, but finally realizes he must understand it, embrace it, and forgive himself.

Yazen and the Mountain Goddess were wrong – he isn't destined to become an inhuman monster, he can become the person he was always meant to be – one shaped by the various important parental figures in his life, including Jinun, Douren, the Shogun, even Tsukiko's father. This scene is one of several climactic moments that moistened my eyes more than a little. The Void People's eventual, unavoidable fate is deeply melancholy, existentially humbling, yet entirely deserved. Their civilization (based on the past) is completely doomed, regardless of what they do, yet Senya offers a ray of hope: “I'm your descendant”, meaning that at least some of them must survive.

When Senya comes to finally rescue Jinka from his fate as a mad god, Studio White Fox pulls out all the stops, unleashing a torrent of incredibly animated carnage that no doubt drained resources from many other, less spectacular episodes. Senya lets loose his full might against a terrifyingly potent Jinka, while Tsukiko supports by using her gourd to drain excess magical power. Upon battle's end, with both bloodied and exhausted combatants gasping for breath, but finally free of madness, they both bashfully greet each other with an understated “Hey, there!”, like the awkward teenage boys they are. It's a delightfully whimsical touch, in an anime full of daft whimsy, remarkable flights of fantasy, and grounded, human characters who grow and change throughout every episode.

This is exemplified by the perfect final episode, which acts as an extended prologue to the whole story. Everyone settles down, romantic pairings are formalized, children are born, and life continues. Shinsuke even needs to tie up a nefarious loose end, demonstrating that sometimes violence is unavoidable, if it's to prevent further evil. We see glimpses of Senya's happy life with Tsukiko before she succumbs to old age. We see Shakugan as an elderly woman who has outlived her beloved Shinsuke. Jinka, now an immortal fox katawara like he always wanted, remains happily shacked up with Tama.

I love that the story continues even without the page and TV screen. Senya wanders the land helping others, always remembering the wonderful times with his friends. He's not alone though – he's part of a magnificent three, including Jinka, and his long-time pal/rival Mudo. I almost can't put into words how happy the final scenes of them together made me, especially Senya's unexpectedly perfect little fourth-wall break at the end.

Taken as a whole, Sengoku Youko is a spectacularly successful distillation of the shonen battle story formula. Packing in as many events into thirty-five episodes as other, more bloated, series do in ten times that number, it's a wild, emotionally affecting ride with deep, well-explored themes. While it doesn't always look as spectacular as I wish it could, it's orders of magnitude superior to the previous adaptation of Mizukami's work, the deeply disappointing Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer, spoiled by utterly garbage production quality.

If you're one of the sadly small number of people who watched the criminally under-looked Sengoku Youko, and you enjoyed it, then why not try Planet With? It's only twelve episodes, with a story even more concentrated and wild. Let's hope Sengoku Youko was successful enough that we get an anime adaptation of Mizukami's masterwork, the incredible Spirit Circle.