Dust and holy fire spiral across the battlefield, forming a storm of shattered light and broken divinity. Ares staggers, armor cracked like porcelain under a hammer. Golden ichor drips down his jaw.
Ren stands or rather, something inside Ren stands using him like a vessel.
Paradai's presence fills the air ancient, terrible, righteous and merciless.
Ren's body glows white-gold, eyes blazing with layered pupils: human and divine stacked like suns inside storm clouds.
Ares wipes divine blood from his lips.
"Paradai… I should have known Duwendo's stray would find a leash."
Ren's voice layers with the spirit's, deeper and resonant:
"I am no leash. I am judgment carried by defiance."
Ares lifts his spear battered but glowing infernal red.
"You died a traitor. You awaken as a parasite. You will end as dust."
Paradai smiles through Ren a calm, knowing smile.
A killer's serenity.
"You mistake exile for defeat."
Light spirals around Ren's arms ancient sigils glowing around his forearms like scripture carved in starlight. The ground cracks beneath him; air vibrates like a held breath.
Kenta, barely conscious, whispers hoarsely:
"Ren…? No… this is… bigger…"
Akira, bleeding and leaning on his broken blade hilt, does not flinch.
He whispers:
"Do it… whoever you are… finish it."
Paradai spreads Ren's arms slowly.
A divine wind sweeps the ruins gentle, crushing, unignorable.
The attack's name echoes like prophecy:
"Eris secret technique -Sunfall Oblivion."
The sky turns white.
Ares roars, body radiating dragon-heat and war-hate.
"DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME—!"
Paradai thrusts both hands forward
And a sphere of condensed light, dense as star-core, erupts from Ren's chest and palms, swallowing sound, cratering earth, crushing reality into concentric shockwaves.
It hits Ares point-blank.
For a heartbeat, both gods freeze in a sun made from defiance.
BOOM
Ruined Kasumori disappears in a column of radiance.
Buildings liquefy. Pavement erodes.
Sky tears open, clouds evaporating in a perfect circle.
When the light fades, Ares is a cratered ruin, divine armor shattered, spear broken, one wing of energy flickering like a dying flame.
the god of wrath kneels.
His voice is ragged, but hateful.
"You cannot stop fate."
Paradai's reply is merciful, cruel, inevitable:
"I am fate long forgotten."
Light flicks a single finishing strike.
Ares collapses, body dissolving into shimmering divine dust.
Silence.
Then Ren's knees buckle.
Paradai's voice softens almost mournful.
"Sleep, child. Our road ahead will be more Deadlier than this."
Ren collapses unconscious, aura flickering out.
Paradai recedes not gone, only waiting.
The sky returns.
Only a broken team remains, standing among ruins soaked in divine consequence.
Akira stumbles forward and catches Ren before he hits the ground.
"We're going home."
Kenta laughs weakly, tears mixing with dirt.
"He did it…"
Sakura sobs openly.
Mei kneels beside Ren, shaking.
They drag themselves out of Naraka's shadow, leaving a crater where a god fell.
They won.
But victory feels like survival, not triumph.
The air still hums with power, as if reality remains unsure whether Paradai has truly departed or merely paused.
Far off sirens start to wail. Not mortal ones — celestial alarms, echoing through unseen dimensions like cracked church bells in a drowned city. Duwendo feels the loss. The pantheon trembles. Ares was not just a god — he was a pillar, a warning, a blade meant to shape futures by violence. His fall reverberates.
Akira tightens his grip on Ren's limp form, face smeared with blood and dust. Even broken, his eyes hold clarity. The weight of leadership finally settles on him.
"Move," he orders through gritted teeth. "Before something else comes looking."
Sakura wipes her face, forcing her legs to work, sheer will pulling her upright. Mei gently lifts Kenta's shattered arm, supporting him as he groans but refuses to stop. Their movements are slow, each step paid for in agony, yet they continue without hesitation.
This is what victory costs.
A gust rolls across the blasted field, carrying sparks of divine residue that fade before touching mortal skin. Where Ares fell, the crater steams like a wound in the world. Molecules rearrange around divine residue, whispering strange hymns, echoes of a war long older than humanity.
Mei looks back once.
"Do gods bleed forever… or do they come back?"
No one answers. There is only the crunch of debris under exhausted feet.
Above them, the sky bears a scar — a thin fissure cut through the clouds, glowing faintly like the memory of a battlefield in heaven. Forces stir beyond it, unseen eyes watching. Not all of them mourn Ares. Some are curious. Some are hungry.
Some are afraid.
Kenta coughs, voice barely a whisper.
"Ren… he… he wasn't just a vessel. He fought. I felt it."
Akira nods slowly.
"I know."
His voice drops, low and grim.
"And now they know."
A chill passes through the team. There is no celebration. No shouts of triumph. Only the knowledge that a line has been crossed. Ren has touched power not meant for mortal bones. And Paradai — saint, sinner, exile, god-killer — has returned to the stage.
The path ahead is not the road of heroes. It is exile, rebellion, truth sharpened into a spear. They will not be welcomed, not by gods nor the mortal world that saw heaven's fury fall upon it today.
The wind shifts. Temple bells ring faintly in the far distance, though no temple stands. A sound carried across realms.
Sakura whispers, voice fragile but resolute:
"We keep going. For those we lost."
For a moment, everyone stops. Heads bow, not in prayer but acknowledgment.
Names pass silently across their hearts.
Friends.
Brothers.
Sisters.
Teachers.
The dead have not vanished; they have become fuel for resolve.
Akira tightens the bandage around his wrist. "We stand again. All of us. Ren included."
As they begin their long walk toward New Babel, a faint glow lingers in Ren's chest — the last thread of Paradai's light pulsing softly like a dormant star. Beneath unconscious lids, Ren's eyes twitch, as if dreaming of a world older than time, where warriors made from myth carved fate with bare hands.
A whisper rides the wind, soft as regret, sharp as promise:
Naraka has only opened its door. The next gate waits.
The earth trembles again, subtle but real, as if acknowledging the truth.
Their victory was not an ending.
It was the first toll of a cosmic bell, calling every realm to witness what rises when mortals refuse to kneel.
Hope walks beside them.
So does judgment.
So does the memory of a fallen god.
And somewhere beyond sight, Paradai watches with fathomless eyes, waiting for the world to decide whether Ren will become salvation — or the spark that burns creation clean.