The battle raged in the throne hall, as Zaramos and Sajibro exchanged blows with raw violence and unrelenting force. The ground quaked beneath their feet, the air was alive with sparks, and rifts in space and time widened with every strike. The fight was dead even; both combatants unleashed their full power, neither revealing the slightest hint of weakness.
Zaramos wielded his hellish blade Falkarion, deflecting every strike Sajibro delivered, seeking the perfect opening for a killing blow. But Sajibro evaded with flawless skill, parrying with a mastery equal to his opponent's strength. His sword moved in his grip like lightning—each slash unleashing a wave of shadows that consumed the very space around them.
Every strike from Sajibro's blade seemed to draw darkness from the depths of time itself, while Zaramos pressed forward, trying to corner him.
With a mocking smirk, Zaramos said,
> "Is this all you've got, Shadow King? I may have overestimated you."
Sajibro gave no answer—only continued his calm maneuvering, eyes locked on every movement of his foe, preparing for the decisive moment.
Then, after a furious exchange, Zaramos unleashed a massive strike, pouring all his strength into it. Sajibro, unshaken, raised his sword to meet it, his eyes burning with power greater than ever before.
> "You have no idea what you're speaking of… Zaramos."
Standing firm, he fixed his gaze on his sword. A deep silence fell over the hall—as though the universe itself had paused to listen.
Then, without warning, Sajibro unlocked an ancient seal deep within his heart. The ground roared beneath him as a colossal black aura exploded outward. Shadows surged like a frozen tide in time itself, a presence so overwhelming it felt as if it could unmake the world.
Zaramos froze. Despite his hellish might, a fear unlike anything he had ever felt coiled around him. The aura was heavy—stealing the air from his lungs.
> "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice unsteady as he fought to keep his stance.
Sajibro didn't respond. Lifting his sword—its edge gleaming in the light of dark shadows—he spoke in a voice that rang through the throne hall.
> "I'm unleashing the power that's been sealed away. My blade… is now at its peak. This is the end."
The sword began to pulse with a majestic black light, resonating with the ancient force Sajibro had set free. Then, a sound emerged from the blade, as though it were speaking directly to him:
> "You are ready now. Let the darkness consume everything. Let us finish what we started, Sajibro."
Sajibro's lips curled into a chilling smile.
> "At last… you will fulfill your promise."
In a single instant, he launched his final assault. The strike burst from his blade—not a mere slash, but an all-consuming force. A black radiance surged forward, not like ordinary light, but darkness itself crawling across existence, suffocating everything in its path.
Time warped as the destructive wave tore toward Zaramos. But the moment it reached him, he felt something horrific—it wasn't just closing in on him, it was swallowing him whole. His power began to drain, vanishing into the ravenous dark.
He roared, forcing his body to move, trying to counter with his blade—but his form was already breaking apart under the crushing weight of the attack.
Sajibro's voice dripped with scorn:
> "Here you are, the king who claimed strength and feigned wisdom. Now… you will dissolve into the shadows, as you always were—nothing more than a ghost in an old tale."
With those words, the final wave struck, devouring everything.
End of Chapter Forty-Nine