A flash of silver tore across the battlefield—Sora charged forward, switching into Fangtal, the form with the highest lee power in his arsenal.
Agility took a hit, yes—but when it ca to pure destructive force, nothing surpassed this.
Yet even faced with the sa form that had once nearly defeated him—
Zulo didn't flinch.
He stood there, motionless.
Sora wasn't about to waste the opportunity.
He triggered the Fang mory—blades erupted from his arms and shoulders, glinting with razor-sharp gleam.
Roaring, Sora surged forward, a whirlwind of silver and steel.
"Let's go, Zulo!"
For the future of this planet—you die here!
His entire body coiled like a spring, then launched. Silver light tore the air apart as he lunged, slicing through the battlefield with a piercing howl.
Elbow raised, Sora aid for Zulo's head—the blades there glead with a lethal shimr.
But Zulo made no move to block or counter. Instead, he flickered—slipping away like a phantom, his movent eerily fluid as he dodged Sora's elbow, then each follow-up slash.
"Offworlder. I gave you the chance to leave this world behind… Pity you wasted it."
"Spare the sermon!"
"You think yourself a savior, so force of justice—but in the end, you'll see. You won't change a damn thing."
Zulo's voice was cold. He swept his arms outward.
A silent wave rippled through the air—concentric distortions barely visible to the eye.
Sora's montum faltered. The air thickened like syrup. Every movent slowed, as though he were swimming through molasses.
"Whether I can change anything isn't up to your smug comntary!"
Fang's wildness surged through him, instincts fusing with willpower. Sora fought back against the drag, forcing his limbs to respond.
He stomped hard—Fangtal's explosive strength blasted him forward, breaking free from the sticky pressure.
Then—blink! blink!—a flurry of near-teleporting dashes, and he was in Zulo's face once again!
Fang flared—his blades began to glow with piercing silver-white light.
"Let's see you block this!"
"[Fang! Maximum Drive]!"
Blades fully charged, Sora spun through the air—a silver cyclone cutting through the gloom!
"[Fang Spear Bullet]!"
His whirling form twisted into a bladed spiral, a roaring vortex of steel and light.
The air around him scread. The silver tornado locked onto Zulo's chest.
Zulo's eyes narrowed—clearly surprised Sora had adapted so fast, breaking through his spatial interference.
Still, he didn't dodge.
As Sora closed in, a thin, orange-yellow barrier flared to life around Zulo—just in ti.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Blade t barrier—sparks flew as Sora's spinning form slamd into the shield.
But the blow failed to shatter it.
The mont passed. His best chance—gone.
"Not bad," Zulo comnted. "To react like that on the fly… impressive."
"So this is what instinct looks like, tempered by reason. A rare combination."
Sora landed and backed off, gasping.
Damn it. I knew that shield was a problem—but he can refresh it this fast?
He steadied himself, eyeing Zulo across the ruined ground.
"Hiding in a turtle shell while running your mouth—this is the legendary Lord Ravager's pride?"
But his taunt didn't draw any reaction.
Instead, Zulo calmly posed a question:
"With all that primal instinct, have you managed to sense your current predicant?"
Sora blinked. What?
Sothing was wrong.
…Wait.
A sudden tension prickled through the air. Reflexively, Sora twisted sideways.
A familiar force sliced past his chest—a black-fletched arrow, thick with negative particles.
He knew that energy. He'd seen it before.
Only one enemy used arrows like that:
The Tramplers.
But I haven't seen any Tramplers this whole fight—
He and Anna had both witnessed them before. They'd been produced. So where had they gone?
Suddenly, the pieces clicked.
He stumbled back two steps, eyes scanning the battlefield—
And there—far, far beyond the lines—he saw them.
Tramplers. Enhanced. Bowstrings drawn. Aid right at him.
"Caught on, have you?" Zulo chuckled, finally showing emotion.
"You charged into the trap like a fool. So confident—so arrogant."
The Legion didn't just have a front line. It had rear artillery. Units designed to eliminate priority targets.
A rain of black arrows darkened the sky.
Once, it was the Legion that had endured the storm of Hunt-path arrows.
Now—it was Sora's turn.
Negative particle-charged arrows rained down. Sora had no ti to think.
He moved.
Leaping, diving, dodging—every joint pushed to its limit as he weaved through death.
So arrows grazed his skin. The air hissed with every close call.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
Arrows embedded themselves behind him in rapid succession, kicking up waves of dust.
Each dodge was razor-thin—like brushing past the Reaper's scythe.
But Sora wasn't just surviving. He was thinking.
This arrow storm—it locked him in, sealed his escape routes like a forest of spears.
But—
The most dangerous place is often the safest.
Even in despair, there was always a spark of life.
His eyes snapped toward the Tramplers far in the distance.
Break their formation—and I get a chance to breathe.
Decision made.
As he spun mid-dodge, he slotted a blue mory into place.
"[Fang]!"
"[Trigger]!"
Blue-silver armor wrapped around him. He lined up the next dodge—then triggered Fang.
His arms extended—two crescent-shaped blades unfolded like a drawn bow.
Sora drew them taut. An energy arrow shimred into existence.
Target: the Trampler line.
"I don't rember inviting you into this."
Zulo's gravity spiked—slamming down on Sora's shoulders.
The shot veered.
Shit!
He gritted his teeth and loosed another volley—rapid-fire bolts clashing with incoming arrows mid-air.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Sky turned white with fla—until the firelight was pierced again by falling arrows.
No reprieve. No pause.
That one missed window—it was gone.
"This… is what despair feels like," Zulo murmured, eyes gleaming. "This is the path I revere—destruction."
His greatest threat… was about to be snuffed out.
Arrows rained down like knives. Sora's white armor—the symbol of hope—was monts from being torn apart.
The Legion was closing in from all sides.
Even if the arrows didn't kill him, the encirclent would.
This was checkmate.
Unless—soone broke the board.
But here, on this dying planet—was there anyone left?
Yes.
Because on this world—hope had never truly died.
WHOOOSH!!
Wings flared. A gale howled.
A massive form crashed from the sky, flattening Voidwalkers like ants beneath its feet.
It raised its ruined body and stood tall—
A living wall between Sora and death.
Arrows struck it harmlessly. The sa barrage that would've shredded Sora barely scratched its hide.
Because to the Doomsday Beast—they were nothing.
It stood firm, activating its antimatter engine.
Then—
It opened its broken wings and unleashed the signature move that once left trails of devastation across the stars:
[Impending Doom]
Quantum beams exploded from its wings, carving through the battlefield like divine punishnt.
Zzzzzzzhhhhh—
Silence.
Then light.
Then—
BOOOOM!!!
The Trampler formation was obliterated.
The trap shattered.
Sora blinked—still kneeling, still alive.
He looked up—
And saw a tiny figure circling the Doomsday Beast's head like a bird—
Xtre.
Then—two heads peeked out from the top of the Beast's skull.
"You two—what…?"
Peering down at him—
Robin and Anna.
But there was no ti for reunion.
Because in the smoke—
Zulo's carefully constructed battlefield was collapsing.
"You useless piece of garbage!!"
His calm shattered. The Lord Ravager slamd a fist into the ground.
The quake rippled across the field.
His face twisted in fury.
"I'll annihilate every one of you—to the last!"
"Oh yeah?"
Two beams of light pierced the smoke, rising into the sky—
"[Cyclone]!"
"[Joker]!"
"Then co try it."
Chirp—!
A bird's cry echoed—clear, defiant, hopeful.
Xtre!
Wummmm—
Wummmm—
Concentric waves pulsed outward from the light.
As if the very soul of another world were answering the call.
"This is…"
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