Debro's motion changed, he had unsheathed his katana earlier, and now, he sheathed it, and with that singular, complete motion, the sky, in every sense of the word, fell and collapsed in accordance with his Technique, as though the heavens themselves obeyed his will without question or delay.
The falling sky seemed to become a silver maw of endless sword lines as it descended upon the forest below, covering everything within a fifty-kilometer radius in range with absolute dominance. It hadn't even reached the forest floor, but the trees, the earth, the water bodies, the soil, everything below had already begun to be sliced and diced with apocalyptic fury and power, as though existence itself was being carved apart layer by layer.
