Leerooey and Jhonathan were the ones who delivered the final blow.
Not alone.
Not without consequence.
Together.
The battlefield where Mark Angelo once stood had already begun collapsing, the tournament dimension destabilizing as its core authority shattered. What remained of the God of Pride dissolved into fading fragments of stolen existence.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
---
When everything finally settled, Jhonathan and Leerooey moved forward.
And then they saw them.
On a distant hill beyond the broken arena space, surrounded by endless fields of colorful flowers, Sylviana and Sophia lay resting.
Not dead.
Not injured.
Sleeping.
Their bodies shimmered faintly, as if something inside them had been rewritten or restored. Light pulsed gently from their chests, synchronized with a deeper awakening.
A new ability had been unlocked.
Something within them had evolved after surviving the tournament's final collapse.
The wind moved softly through the flower field.
For a moment, it almost felt peaceful.
Like the world was pretending nothing had ever gone wrong.
---
But time didn't stay still for long.
It accelerated.
Rapidly.
The sky shifted in fast motion, stars dragging across the void like broken memories being rewritten.
Then—
a hooded being appeared.
Standing at the edge of reality itself.
No announcement.
No system voice.
Just presence.
---
The Wendigo returned.
Again.
Its body warped between states of existence, half-shadow, half-memory, fully hostile.
It looked directly at Jhonathan.
And attacked.
Jhonathan drew Dexcalibur instantly.
A single slash cut through the air—
But the attack was stopped.
Not blocked.
Caught.
By one hand.
The Wendigo didn't even fully move.
It simply held the strike.
Then crushed it.
A chain erupted from nowhere, slamming into the blade with overwhelming force. Dexcalibur shattered instantly, fragments scattering like broken light.
The shockwave rippled outward.
Jhonathan staggered back.
For the first time in a long time…
his weapon broke.
---
The Wendigo stepped forward.
But something else arrived.
A blade.
Not from this world.
Not from any known system.
It tore through space itself as it formed in Jhonathan's hand.
Cracks spread through reality around it, like existence was rejecting its creation.
The Undying Blade.
A weapon forged from the dimension beyond the tournament.
Every swing of it erased not just matter—but meaning.
Even courage itself faltered in its presence.
The battlefield bent.
The air stopped obeying rules.
---
The Wendigo paused.
Then knelt.
Not in defeat.
But in fear.
Its form trembled as the blade's presence overwhelmed its existence. For the first time, something that never understood death began to understand it.
A spirit inside the Wendigo broke.
It cried.
Not from pain.
But from the instinct to survive something it could not comprehend.
---
Jhonathan lowered the blade slightly.
The spirit didn't disappear.
Instead, it spoke.
A broken voice.
A contract formed in desperation.
"I don't want to die…"
The words echoed through the collapsing space.
Jhonathan didn't respond immediately.
Then—
he accepted.
A contract formed.
The spirit was given form, name, and existence.
Reynaldo.
---
The Wendigo was no longer just a monster.
It was something bound.
Something surviving.
Something watching.
---
Jhonathan turned his gaze forward.
Leerooey stepped beside him.
The flowers below the distant hill still swayed gently where Sylviana and Sophia rested.
But beyond that peace—
the path ahead darkened again.
Because now, only two targets remained clear.
The Reincarnation of Wrath.
And the remaining gods.