The dark sphere of the Shadow Realm loomed above the battlefield like a sealed coffin. Within it, the heavily weakened White Ghost was trapped, his remaining substitute ghosts dwindling to the edge of extinction. Yet instead of resisting with reckless force, he focused entirely on survival, enduring and extending his final moments.
Time had carved its mark into him. His face had aged further, his aura flickering like a dying flame. Every breath seemed heavier than the last, as if life itself was being slowly peeled away.
And still, he evaded.
Again and again, he slipped past Redyat's killing intent, relying on what remained of his instincts. After prolonged combat, he had begun to understand Redyat's rhythm, his shifting presence within shadow and space. Logic no longer helped. Only instinct could delay the inevitable.
But instinct required vitality. And his body had almost none left.
Three days of life had already become a luxury he could not afford. His mind remained clear, almost unnaturally so, and that clarity sharpened his Observation Haki to its peak. Yet it was a brief bloom before death, not a foundation for survival.
A pity. That fleeting clarity only delayed the end.
Redyat, meanwhile, moved like a predator born from darkness itself. His body slipped between dimensions within the Shadow Realm, shifting between tangible form and shadow state as he closed in.
He had already destroyed two of the White Ghost's substitute ghosts. That meant only two remained. Two final lives holding up a collapsing existence.
And now, even those would not be enough.
"Ghost · Spark Celebration."
The White Ghost's voice was faint, almost ceremonial.
The sky erupted.
Countless ghosts surged outward, filling every direction. Explosive spirits, emotional remnants, chaotic manifestations of lingering will. The entire battlefield above was drowned in an expanding ghost sea.
The moment Redyat appeared, detonations followed instantly. One contact was enough to trigger cascading explosions. Even a brief hesitation would allow emotional ghosts to invade his body directly.
Redyat's voice carried faint contempt. "Useless struggle."
Yet he did not rush.
He understood better than anyone that desperation often produced the most dangerous final act. So instead of forcing a direct kill, he adapted.
He shifted into shadow state, moving between ghost clusters. Wherever he passed, shadow power subtly destabilized the constructs, triggering premature detonations. Explosions rippled outward, consuming the ghost sea before it could fully form its trap.
In moments, half of the White Ghost's technique collapsed under controlled destruction.
Still, the emotional ghosts lingered. Invisible, persistent, difficult to detect even with Observation Haki. They slowed perception, interfered with awareness, and blurred intent.
But Redyat had already adapted to such interference.
He moved again.
A sudden shadow descent.
From above the ghost sea to its underside in an instant.
The blade struck.
The White Ghost reacted, but his body no longer kept pace with his will. He tried to retreat, controlling his flight with the last of his strength, but the Shadow Realm itself began to compress, sealing his movement space tighter and tighter.
Escape was no longer an option.
If he left the ghost sea's boundary, death would be immediate.
The battlefield itself had become his coffin.
Redyat pressed forward, shadow and blade merging into a single killing line.
Then it happened.
A precise strike.
The blade pierced through the White Ghost's chest.
His heart was destroyed in an instant.
Blood spilled, thick and dark, as his body trembled mid-air.
A faint, almost peaceful expression appeared on his face.
"…Finally."
Redyat pulled back immediately, retreating into shadow without hesitation.
Too many warriors had turned death into a final counterattack. He would not allow arrogance to blind him.
And he was correct.
The White Ghost was not yet gone.
His body still moved.
One final breath remained.
"You are too cautious," the White Ghost whispered softly, almost amused. "Then I will at least end this properly."
His body began to fade.
Not collapse, not fall, but dissolve into something less physical.
"Ghost Domain."
A final command.
His entire existence erupted outward.
Not an explosion of force, but of concept, a collapse of ghostly energy at its core. The Shadow Realm itself began to fracture as the White Ghost's last technique spread through it like a dying sun tearing itself apart.
Redyat's eyes narrowed sharply.
"Not good."
The Shadow Realm trembled violently. Compression and destruction clashed directly with the expanding ghost domain. Space itself distorted under the pressure.
Then came the impact.
The sky ruptured.
A massive explosion of ghostly energy tore open the battlefield above, followed by a surge of unnatural lightning-like phenomena that spread across the clouds.
The entire war halted.
Even those locked in battle below froze instinctively.
Something had ended.
Or something had just begun.
Far below, commanders and elites from both sides looked upward in shock.
"What just happened?"
The battlefield silence lasted only a moment before chaos returned in whispers, confusion spreading faster than any weapon.
Then the clouds shifted.
A massive shadow descended from above.
A dragon.
Over a hundred meters of black-scaled presence tore through the sky, emerging from the broken remains of the Shadow Realm.
Redyat.
His body bore injuries, but none were critical. His regeneration already began to mend them, muscle and scale restoring themselves as he hovered above the battlefield.
He looked down.
A faint smile formed.
"A bit messy, old man. Even in death, you refuse to stay quiet."
His voice carried across the entire battlefield.
The implication was clear.
The White Ghost was gone.
For a moment, disbelief held the field hostage.
"Impossible…"
"An Admiral… dead already?"
Confusion turned into shock, then into realization as silence slowly settled over the allied forces.
No response came from the White Ghost.
No presence remained.
Only absence.
And that absence confirmed everything.
Then, on the far side of the battlefield, another presence shifted.
A man stood calmly, watching the sky.
His expression did not change.
But his voice did.
"So it has ended."
A cold tone, detached and precise.
"Arest will take over."
The air around him distorted slightly, as if reality itself reacted to his presence.
Then he stepped forward.
And the world felt, for the first time in this war, something new entering the field.