The next moment was a blur. A single step forward. A flash of white.
The sound was sharp, clean, like silk tearing.
In one fluid motion, Javier's hand gripped the hilt at his side and drew.
A White Ore Katana, gleaming faintly with divine light, sliced in a perfect horizontal arc. The blade's movement was so fast the miasma itself seemed to split apart.
A heartbeat later, the four heroes froze mid-step. Then, without a word, their forms fractured into thousands of faint silver particles, dispersing into nothingness. Gone....erased from existence for the second and final time.
Javier stood in place.
His eyes opened slowly, the White Ore Katana still humming faintly in his grip.
"You should've kept them buried, old man," Javier said flatly, flicking the blade once. Not a single trace of blood clung to it.
"Twice dead… that's your mercy wasted."
Edmund's grin faltered for the first time, a shadow of disbelief crossing his crimson-lit eyes.
