The battlefield was chaos incarnate. Ashryn slammed through the houses, dust and debris exploding with every crash.
From above, Orimo descended like a shadowed comet.
"Strong punch!" he roared.
THUD! His fist collided with Ashryn's face, sending him sprawling onto the sandy ground—but he quickly regained his footing, blood trailing down his cracked lips.
Varo's sand erupted around him in a whirling vortex—but Orimo's shadow fists struck before he could act. THUD! Ashryn slammed against the wall, coughing blood.
"Shadow Fists Barrage!" Orimo screamed.
Manifested shadows lashed out like serpents, pounding Ashryn into walls, crushing stone and scattering sand like a storm. He raised one fist, dried and cracked, and retaliated—but the sand swirled around him again.
"Why do you have to be so annoying?!" Ashryn bellowed, rage etching deep lines into his ash-grey skin.
Orimo's shadow fist slammed into his face again, cracking another wall, blood spilling freely.
Through the smoke, Varo and Orimo emerged together, walking as if victory already belonged to them. Their eyes burned with fury.
"This country won't fall!" they screamed in unison.
Ashryn staggered, a twisted laugh escaping his lips, deep and horrific.
"I have no choice… but to stop holding back."
Varo and Orimo's expressions hardened. They charged, the ground trembling beneath their steps.
"Don't make excuses!" they shouted.
A whisper like the end of all things drifted from Ashryn.
"Dry Requiem."
And the world itself seemed to pause as something terrible began.