***

    They say that people can tap into superhuman strength in the face of death.

    I always thought it was a load of crap.

    That people could suddenly gain strength they never had just because they were in a crisis?

    It was hard to believe.

    But then I experienced it firsthand.

    That seemingly absurd tale was actually true.

    "Come on, let''s go again!!"

    "Damn it…!"

    *ng! Screech!*

    I forcefully parried the relentless spear thrusts.

    The shock traveled through the trembling de and into my arms.

    My battered body felt like it could copse at any moment, but I didn''t stop.

    My sword tip drew an arc, executing a Form.

    My movements were instinctive, guided by a hazy consciousness.

    *Crack…!*

    We continued our deadly dance, exchanging blows on a knife''s edge.

    I entrusted everything to my gut feeling and split-second judgments.

    The only sound that filled my ears was the deafening pounding of my heart.

    *Thump, thump, thump…*

    Its vigorous beating seemed to whisper to me.

    You''re not dead yet.

    "Don''t you ever give up?! This is getting fun!"

    The demon shouted, his voice filled with excitement, as he raised his spear high.

    I instinctively knew.

    This one was going to be big.

    "Die!!"

    —Recus Style Spear Arts, First Form—

    —Severance—

    The spear de ripped through the air, radiating a crimson aura.

    It was an attack I couldn''t even dream of blocking, yet my hand moved on its own.

    *Ding!*

    [The effect ''Iron Body'' assists your movements.]

    [The effect ''Momentary Explosive Power'' assists your movements….]

    [The effect ‘Haste’ assists your….]

    [The effect ''Sword’s Path'' assists….]

    [The effect….]

    Countless buffs enhanced my actions.

    A simple defensive maneuver, amplified by dozens of ovepping buffs.

    Sorrow, cleaving through the air, let out an earsplitting shriek apanied by a blinding sh.

    *Kiiiiiik!!*

    The crimson line and the blue line shed.

    A massive shockwave engulfed the surroundings.

    *Booooom!!*

    As the impact reverberated outwards, I was the first to be sent flying.

    I crashed onto the ground, skidding across the earth before finallying to a stop. I coughed violently, blood sttering the ground.

    My body was a mess.

    My left arm and shoulder, unable to fully withstand the impact, werepletely mangled.

    Viscous blood oozed from my abdomen.

    As I tore off a piece of my clothes to try and staunch the bleeding, a figure emerged from the settling dust cloud.

    It was Recus.

    "Ha, hahaha…"

    A hollowugh escaped my lips as my eyes met the demon''s smug face.

    Despite the devastating exchange, not a single scratch marred his body.

    "Ha… Damn it, that''s just… unfair…"

    "Sorry~! We''re just built tougher than you humans~!"

    "Fuck…"

    I swallowed the curse that rose in my throat, my voice thick with blood.

    As I used my sword as a crutch to push myself up, Sorrow vibrated impatiently, expressing its discontent.

    *nk…!*

    Sorry, just give me a moment.

    My body''s not cooperating…

    Gasping for breath, I wiped the blood from my mouth.

    Recus observed my struggle for a moment before letting out a twisted grin.

    "Why don''t you just give up? I rather like you, so I might just spare your life."

    "Fuck… off…"

    "Oh well. Too bad."

    *Wheeeooo…*

    A crimson aura once again gathered around the demon''s spear.

    The swirling crimson tempest felt like the embodiment of death itself.

    "It''s been fun. I''ll make your death quick."

    —Recus Style Spear Arts, Eighth Form—

    —Massacre—

    A colossal wave of demonic energy blotted out the sky.

    Its shadow engulfed the sun, plunging the world into darkness.

    The spear ripped through the air, generating a ferocious gale.

    The wind mingled with the demonic energy emanating from the spear tip, forming a gigantic de that hurtled towards me.

    "…"

    Death.

    No other word could describe it.

    An overwhelming disparity in power, an attack I had no hope of countering.

    The Reaper''s breath caressed my neck.

    Its chilling touch carried with it the weight of despair.

    Pure, unadulterated malice, intent on crushing mepletely.

    Shaking off the wave of exhaustion that threatened to pull me under, I tightened my grip on Sorrow.

    *Crackle, crackle, crackle!!!*

    With a deafening roar, I unleashed a desperate assault.

    This was it. Myst stand.

    It was time to pour everyst ounce of strength I had left into this final sh.

    I calmly raised Sorrow.

    Then, I ran my hand along the de, feeding it my blood.

    This was the most powerful, and riskiest, trick I had up my sleeve.

    I had hoped I would never have to resort to this.

    But it seemed fate had other ns.

    "Sorrow…"

    The sword thrummed in response to my quiet invocation.

    A tremor ran up my arm, sending a jolt of energy through my body. I lifted my gaze, meeting the approaching darkness with newfound determination.

    As I whispered the final words, a brilliant light erupted from Sorrow.

    "Sorrow, burn."

    -Burning of Sorrow-

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