The battle raged on in the throne hall, where Zaramus and Sajibro exchanged blows with relentless force. The ground trembled beneath their feet, the air crackled with sparks, and fractures in time and space widened with every strike. The fight was evenly matched so far—each side unleashing their full power, neither showing the slightest hint of weakness.
Zaramus wielded his hellish blade, Valkarion, reflecting every strike Sajibro delivered, each time seeking an opening to land a fatal blow. But Sajibro evaded with flawless precision, parrying with skill equal to the enemy's ferocity. His sword moved like lightning in his grip, every slash sending out waves of shadow that swallowed the space around them.
Each strike seemed as if darkness itself was spilling from the depths of time, while Zaramus pressed forward, trying to force Sajibro into a corner.
With a mocking grin, Zaramus said, "Is this all you've got, Shadow King? I may have overestimated you."
Sajibro offered no reply. He moved with quiet focus, his eyes locked on every subtle shift of his opponent, preparing for his next move.
Then, after a rapid flurry of exchanged attacks, Zaramus launched a massive strike, pouring all his strength into it. Sajibro, calm as ever, raised his sword to block, his eyes glowing with a power fiercer than ever before.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, Zaramus," Sajibro whispered, his blade gleaming in his grip.
Suddenly, Sajibro stood firm, his gaze fixed on his sword. For a moment, a deep silence fell—as if the entire universe had paused to listen.
Then, without warning, he unlocked an ancient seal within his very heart. The earth itself shook violently beneath him.
A vast black aura erupted from his body, raw and untamed, shadows pouring out as though time itself had halted. The sheer presence of that power felt capable of overturning the entire cosmos.
Zaramus froze in place. Despite his infernal might, a fear unlike any he had known gripped him. The aura surrounding Sajibro was suffocating, as if it robbed the very air from the world.
"What… are you doing?" Zaramus asked, his voice trembling as he fought to regain his composure.
Sajibro gave no answer. He raised his sword, now gleaming with the ominous light of shadows, and spoke in a deep voice that resonated through the throne hall:
"I'm unleashing the power long restrained. My blade… now stands at its peak. This is the end."
The sword pulsed with a majestic black glow, as if responding to the ancient force Sajibro had awakened. Then, a voice—like the sword itself—resounded in his mind:
"You are ready. Let the darkness consume all. Let us finish what we began, Sajibro."
A chilling smile curved Sajibro's lips. "At last… you'll see your promise fulfilled."
In an instant, he launched his final strike. It wasn't a mere blow—it was an all-consuming force.
A black light surged from the sword, but it was no ordinary radiance; it was darkness itself, crawling forward, devouring the very space before it.
Time distorted as the devastating wave descended upon Zaramus.
The moment it neared him, Zaramus felt the horrifying truth—it wasn't just coming for him; it was consuming him. His strength began to dissolve, drowning in the savage abyss.
He roared, attempting to lift his blade for a counterattack, but his body was already breaking apart under the weight of the strike.
"You… the king who claimed strength and pretended wisdom," Sajibro sneered. "Now… you'll fade into shadow, just as you always were—a mere phantom in an old tale."
With those words, the final wave crashed down, swallowing everything.
End of Chapter Fifty