"So, you have chosen death. So be it," the old devil said, his voice cold and final. A cruel glint flashed in his ancient eyes, a gaze honed through countless battles and soaked in the blood of the fallen.
"Let's do this," he growled.
Without hesitation, the three figures moved as one, abandoning all techniques in favor of their most devastating weapon—the killing formation. In their arrogance, they believed sheer force would be enough. Perhaps their gravest mistake was ignoring Riley's warning.
"Thousand Swords Burial!"
A deafening bang shattered the silence. The sky darkened as if eclipsed by an endless storm of steel. A thousand swords, each different in shape, size, and aura, materialized from the void, glistening like the fangs of a celestial beast. They hovered for a mere breath before locking onto their sole target—Riley.
