The sky grew quiet after the battle.
Snow drifted slowly through the gray air, falling over the empty battlefield where moments earlier two warriors had clashed with enough force to shake the heavens.
Duke Sant remained standing for only a few seconds after the final strike.
Then—
"Cough…!"
His body jerked violently.
"Cough! Cough! Cough!"
The old warrior staggered in the air as if the strength had suddenly been ripped out of his bones.
His hand instinctively moved to cover his mouth, but the moment he did—
Dark red blood spilled through his fingers.
The Soul Sword had already vanished from his hand the moment 47's life faded.
The crimson glow of the Genesis Heart disappeared with it, leaving only a wounded old man floating weakly in the silent sky.
For a brief moment his body trembled as if it had forgotten how to remain upright.
Then gravity reclaimed him.
His boots touched the frozen ground with a dull crunch as he landed unsteadily on the snow.
