The body creaks, the soul cries. The clash of swords rang out with tremendous force, sending powerful shockwaves into the falling raindrops, warping them midair before they shattered against the castle's dark tiles.
Each impact produced a deep vibration that traveled through the broken structures, as if the entire kingdom trembled to the rhythm of that battle.
The decaying Mitsuki, who felt like he could lose consciousness at any moment, lunged forward with his sword and shotgun. His movements were heavy, but they still carried lethal intent.
Marco followed with almost elegant speed, in a sequence of mimicked movements that, together with the Ashen Boy, became a partially perfect battle choreography, where every step, every turn, and every strike fit together like gears in a machine on the verge of breaking.
