The hell-pit burned with relentless fire, and the platform that Yagumi and Xzavier now stood on seemed forged from the bones of the damned. Blood trickled from both of them. Bruised, battered, and scorched—they should have collapsed.
But they didn't.
Because hatred and duty refused to let them die.
Yagumi lunged first, blades whirling with fury, his Hellbound aura leaking darkness and flame with every movement. The Twin Reaper Blades danced through the air like vipers, screeching with the screams of the souls they had devoured.
Xzavier spun around, cloak trailing behind like a holy flame, blocking each slash with his energy blade, golden light erupting from every strike.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their blades clashed, cracked, and screamed—light and shadow in eternal war.
"You think your light makes you righteous, Xzavier?" Yagumi spat, parrying a downward strike before thrusting his blade toward Xzavier's side.
"And you think your pain justifies slaughter?" Xzavier retorted, twisting just in time, only to catch a gash across his chest.
Blood sprayed, sizzling as it hit the heated stone.
The two separated, panting.
Xzavier raised a hand, channeling divine power.
"Heaven's Wrath: Judgment Pike!"
Golden spears rained down from above, pinning parts of the arena around Yagumi, forcing him to dance between them.
"Reaper's Embrace: Blade Bloom!" Yagumi roared, stabbing both blades into the ground as crimson ghostly scythes erupted upward like jagged flowers, shredding the platform around them.
A massive explosion launched them both into the air—
—and then they descended, screaming in fury and grief.
They impaled each other.
Xzavier's spear thrust through Yagumi's gut.
Yagumi's twin blades sank through Xzavier's ribs.
Their eyes locked. Rage. Sorrow. Brotherhood. Regret.
Then—
They collapsed, falling over the edge of the platform—
—and into the lava.
Only their blades remained behind, hovering above the molten river, untouched by the infernal heat.
Above, Gimori descended slowly, laughter echoing as the magma reflected in his cursed eyes.
"Dead. Dead. How... predictable." He chuckled, mocking the silence. "What a poetic end. Blades without bearers. Champions without breath."
He extended a hand toward the floating weapons—
—but they resisted.
They hovered higher.
Suddenly—an earthquake exploded through the entire Demon Tower.
BOOM.
Pillars cracked. Infernal statues shattered. The upper-class rooms caved in, their twisted elegance collapsing upon the very zealots who praised them.
The Dawn's Awakening cultists screamed—briefly.
Then silence.
All of them gone.
Except Levine, who leapt from the crumbling remains of the tower, coughing, his body bruised and burned. And Hageshi, who rose from the rubble like a beast, bloodied but very much alive.
Their eyes met.
"Still breathing, traitor?" Hageshi snarled.
"Yeah. And about to do more than that," Levine growled, stepping forward, clutching his twin blades.
They clashed outside the wreckage.
Steel sang. Fire and shadow licked the battlefield. Hageshi's frost blade clashed against the two elemental swords like winter defying creation itself.
"Still think you're stronger than me, pretty boy?" Hageshi jeered, elbowing Levine in the jaw.
But Levine wasn't the same man anymore.
Flame swirled.
Shadow deepened.
Levine's eyes flashed gold and violet simultaneously—like flames dancing within void.
His aura erupted into a blazing silhouette of two warriors: the Flame of Eidolon, Aizashi Shishiroma, and the Shadow of Eidolon. Their legacy became his.
First Life Transformation: Eidolon's Inheritor.
Levine's body radiated with divine vengeance. Fire circled one arm. Shadow curled around the other.
With a primal roar, he dashed forward, slicing in a perfect X.
"Eidolon Cross: Ember Eclipse!"
Hageshi was struck dead-on.
Flames erupted inside his chest. Shadows tore through his spine.
Hageshi gasped once—then fell, eyes lifeless.
Levine stood over him, chest heaving. "Rest... in cold peace."
Then silence.
Until—
A massive pillar of golden and crimson light exploded from the center of the lava pit.
The ground trembled again as two figures rose.
Xzavier.
Yagumi.
But they weren't the same.
Xzavier's 2nd Life had awakened.
He hovered above the magma, divine and radiant.
His white, sleeveless robe rippled as if under holy wind. His white baggy pants and bare feet glowed faintly, his very skin kissed by light. Golden Ascension marks gripped his arms like divine chains, pulsing with justice.
But his eyes...
The Superior Eyes, evolved from the Sacred Eyes, shone with power that defied time and death.
In his hands—a celestial spear, its shape reminiscent of the Titan Blade, glowing with layered halos of energy.
He was no longer just Xzavier.
He was Jiyū in human form.
Meanwhile, Yagumi ascended from the pit like a demon king reborn.
His skin cracked with obsidian flame. His wings—twisted and vast—blocked the sky. Horns spiraled from his head, and the lava hissed as it dared to touch him.
He was a monster forged from vengeance and death.
But then—
Gimori laughed.
"Oh... this is perfect," the demon lord grinned. "Yagumi. Let me make you more."
He raised his cursed hand—and plunged it into his own chest.
With a mad scream, Gimori sealed his essence within Yagumi, dark tendrils wrapping around the boy's heart and soul.
Yagumi stood taller. Stronger. More evil.
He now wielded not only the Twin Reaper Blades, but also the Demon Blade of Gimori—a weapon carved from hell's marrow.
Xzavier stood across from him, glowing like the sun.
He raised his spear.
"This ends now. By the power of the Most High—
I rebuke you, unholy being of hell."
The battlefield was set.