Sahiru stood in a sea of black blood and ash.
The Infinity Castle groaned as it twisted again—walls stretching, more gates opening. From every crevice, every shadow, more demons poured like a cursed flood. Their eyes glowed red with hatred. Their teeth gnashed in anticipation.
And at the center of it all—
Sahiru, shoulders heaving.
His blade trembled.
Not from fear—but from exhaustion.
He had already felled hundreds, maybe more. His haori was torn, his skin bleeding in slashes. His breathing was heavy. He swung slower. His feet dragged.
Still, he didn't stop.
"Come…" he muttered, wiping blood from his mouth. "I haven't fallen yet."
A swarm of demons lunged—
He cut them down.
Another wave came—
He parried, then struck.
But the rhythm broke.
His movements faltered.
His knees buckled for a moment.
Too many…
Too endless…
Is this… it?
Then—
A voice.
Soft. Familiar.
"You're not alone, Sahiru…"
His eyes widened.
The world froze.
Time slowed.
From the ashes around him, a spirit stepped forth—
Suzune Azuri.
Her flowing hair glowed gently. Her violet eyes glistened with tears and light.
She smiled.
"You promised me, remember?" she said, stepping close. "You said you'd protect those who couldn't protect themselves. You said… you'd become their sword."
Sahiru's fingers clenched.
He trembled—not from weakness anymore, but from emotion.
"I miss you…" he whispered.
She reached out, placing her hand over his heart.
"You never lost me. I've been with you all along. And now… finish what we began."
Her image faded—but her warmth remained.
Sahiru opened his eyes.
The fatigue burned away. The pain? Nothing but embers.
He roared—a primal cry that shook the halls.
"I AM THE BLADE THAT DEATH FEARS!"
He stepped forward.
"Facade Breathing – Eleventh Form: Facade Dragon Rampage!"
A dragon of crimson and violet spiraled into the air above him, blazing like a comet across the ceiling. He dashed with it—slashing through hundreds of demons in a single charge.
Each movement now carried Suzune's memory.
Each blow—righteous fury.
He tore through the monsters as though they were shadows under the sun.
The slayers around him stood, mouths agape.
Murata dropped to his knees, overwhelmed by the sheer force of one man's will.
Sahiru leapt, landing with a quake that shattered the floor.
He stood, bathed in blood and ash—his breath calm once more.
"…Suzune…" he said softly. "I'll finish this. For you."
And with his blade in hand, he faced the next wave—
Ready.