"So, you possess overwhelming firepower and an indestructible shell..."
"But inside?"
"You're impatient, short-tempered, and completely lack the composure and insight a true powerhouse should have."
Ritter spoke to himself in a low voice, sounding less like a battlefield opponent and more like a teacher evaluating a student.
"When confronted with the unknown or backed into a corner, your first instinct isn't to calmly analyze the situation."
"It's to drown everything in firepower."
He let out a quiet sigh.
"Compared to my old friend Barrett..."
"...your spirit isn't even close."
His thoughts drifted to the other Barrett.
The "Heir of the Demon."
Even when every bone in his body had been shattered...
Even after his Haki had completely run dry...
That Barrett could still unleash terrifying fighting spirit and battle instinct.
He would even pretend to lose his mind if it meant creating a single chance to turn the tables.
The Barrett guarding Ritter's homeland back in the future was just as obsessed with strength.
But his strength came from his own indomitable will...
And his pure love of battle.
If offered the chance for one final, glorious fight...
Ritter had no doubt that Barrett would accept without hesitation.
His voice echoed directly inside Steelbone Barrett's mind.
Even now, despite looking increasingly battered, Barrett's every dodge and every counterattack still followed the most efficient combat algorithm.
Minimize energy consumption.
Maximize battlefield results.
It was only natural.
As someone whose power relied entirely on technology, every tactical adjustment required constant streams of information and data analysis.
It was efficient.
It was logical.
And it was...
Incredibly boring.
"My old friend Barrett..."
"Even if every bone in his body was broken..."
"Even if every last drop of Haki was gone..."
"As long as he still had even a shred of consciousness..."
"He'd bite my throat out with his teeth."
A trace of nostalgia slipped into Ritter's voice.
"Heh..."
"Thinking about it..."
"I kind of miss home."
His figure flickered within the blood mist.
His crimson eyes reflected nothing but disappointment.
"But you..."
"You rely on data too much."
"When your calculations tell you your odds of victory have fallen below a certain threshold..."
"You don't think about creating a miracle."
"You think about minimizing losses."
"You think about retreat."
"You think about how to deal with defeat."
"Deep down..."
"You've already accepted the possibility of losing."
"Haven't you?"
Barrett's movements froze for a split second.
Ritter's words had struck directly at the truth buried deep inside him.
A truth...
He himself refused to acknowledge.
The difference wasn't simply one of personality.
It was the difference between their paths.
The Barrett Ritter knew had forged his body into the ultimate weapon.
He trusted his flesh.
He trusted the instincts tempered through countless battles.
He believed that as long as his body still moved...
He could surpass his limits.
But this Barrett...
Walked the path of Mechanical Ascension.
Upgrade the equipment.
Increase the combat power.
Simple.
But equipment was still equipment.
It couldn't suddenly evolve in the middle of battle.
A miraculous awakening of the machine spirit?
That sounded cool.
Reality wasn't so generous.
"Shut up!"
Barrett roared, trying to bury his wavering heart beneath rage.
"What do you know?!"
"This is the most rational!"
"The most efficient way to fight!"
"Those who rely on brute force and emotions..."
"...will inevitably be abandoned by history!"
Ritter couldn't help laughing.
"Still trying to convince yourself, huh?"
Ignoring the flood of system warnings, Barrett forcefully diverted even more energy into his weapons.
He intended to overwhelm everything with superior firepower.
"See?"
Ritter's lazy tone returned.
That attitude irritated Barrett even more.
Earlier, outside the Blood Prison Scroll, Ritter had finally become serious.
Now...
He had returned to that infuriatingly relaxed demeanor.
"Hurry up and finish."
"Hurry up."
"I can't keep my vice-captain waiting forever."
The moment those words fell...
The corrosion inside the Blood Prison Scroll intensified dramatically.
The blood mist clinging to Barrett's armor transformed into countless tiny crimson serpents.
They wriggled into every crack.
Every seam.
Every joint.
The alarms inside Barrett's body erupted into deafening screams as energy leaked away at an alarming rate.
"It's over."
"Barrett."
Ritter finally stepped out from the blood mist.
He floated silently before Barrett.
Not far away.
"Mist God Style..."
"Modified..."
He slowly raised Black Tide.
Its tip pointed directly at Barrett.
There was no overwhelming aura.
No dazzling explosion of power.
Yet...
The entire Blood Prison Scroll seemed to freeze.
Shrink.
Compress.
Every ounce of pressure within that crimson world gathered onto the very tip of Ritter's blade.
The move looked unbelievably understated.
Which somehow made it even more terrifying.
Barrett's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
Every warning system in his body had fused into one continuous, piercing alarm.
His combat processor frantically calculated escape routes.
Countermeasures.
Defensive options.
The result never changed.
Impossible to evade.
Defense ineffective.
Those cold calculations shattered his final illusion.
He stared into Ritter's emotionless crimson eyes.
Stared at the black blade that seemed capable of ending everything.
For the first time...
The war machine known as Steelbone Barrett experienced something he had never known before.
Despair.
His mouth opened.
Perhaps to argue.
Perhaps to roar in defiance.
But in the end...
Only a weak metallic gasp escaped his lips.
"...Extinction."
Ritter quietly spoke the final word.
Black Tide moved forward.
Silently.
In that instant...
Time.
Space.
Energy.
Matter.
Everything Barrett perceived...
Lost all meaning before that sword.
His thoughts raced.
How...
How did the gap become this enormous?
We were evenly matched.
Why...
Why has he suddenly become impossible to resist?
Countless questions flashed through his mind.
All within a single instant.
There was no sound.
No explosion.
Like a drop of water dissolving into the sea.
The gleaming silver armor that represented Pilurka's greatest technological achievement began disappearing from the point where Black Tide touched it.
Not shattered.
Not broken.
Simply...
Erased.
As though someone had taken an eraser to a pencil drawing.
Then came his mechanical limbs.
His torso.
His head.
The entire process was so quiet...
It was suffocating.
In less than a single second...
One of Pilurka's Four Generals...
Steelbone Barrett...
Along with the masterpiece armor that symbolized the pinnacle of Pilurka's science...
Vanished completely from existence.
Nothing remained.
The Blood Prison Scroll slowly dissolved.
Ritter reappeared high above the battlefield.
In the distance...
Barrett's body lay collapsed upon the ground.
But Ritter knew the truth.
He was dead beyond any hope of recovery.
His consciousness had died inside the illusion.
His brain was dead.
His soul had been completely erased.
In a sense...
Opponents like Barrett were actually much easier to deal with than Kaido or Big Mom.
His life force had simply been too weak.
The moment Ritter pierced his defenses...
The organs hidden beneath them had become little more than fragile targets.
Black Tide slid quietly back into its sheath.
The blood mist surrounding Ritter drifted peacefully once more.
As though he had merely finished some trivial chore.
He lowered his gaze.
Below him...
With Barrett's sudden disappearance, confusion spread through Pilurka's soldiers.
By now, the Allied Army and Pilurka's forces had finally crashed into one another.
The war had truly begun.
Ritter then looked toward the distant battlefield where Imu and Galvan were still locked in fierce combat.
A smile slowly spread across his face.
"Well..."
"They've finally started killing each other."
"Time to reap the harvest."
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