The battlefield lay in ruins, a testament to the cataclysmic clash that had just unfolded.
Where once there had been pristine ice and snow, now only devastation remained.
Craters pockmarked the ground, still steaming from the intense heat of the battle.
Shattered ice formations jutted from the earth like the broken bones of some great beast.
At the epicenter of this destruction, two figures remained.
Chung lay sprawled on his back, a massive, charred hole in his chest.
His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the inevitable.
Beside him, seated cross-legged on the scorched earth, was Ryan.
The Spirit King's wild energy had subsided, leaving him looking almost serene, if not for the concerned furrow of his brow.
"You know," Ryan began, his voice soft but carrying easily in the eerie silence that had fallen over the battlefield, "I've faced a lot of opponents in my past life. Different spirits and even gods, More than I can count, really. But you, Chung? You're among the special ones".
Chung's laugh turned into a pained cough, flecks of blood staining his lips. "Special enough to die by your hand, it seems."
Ryan shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Your power,.. if you'd used them differently, perhaps with a different intention, you could have been one of the greatest contractors this world has ever seen."
For a moment, Chung's eyes clouded with regret. "Perhaps," he whispered. "But we can't change the past, can we, Spirit King?"
"No," Ryan agreed, his voice heavy with the weight of countless lifetimes. "We can't. Unfortunately that's something that can't be changed.Your strength, your determination... They were admirable. It was your purpose that was flawed."
Chung turned his head slightly, meeting Ryan's gaze.
"And what is the right purpose, oh wise Spirit King?" There was a hint of his old sarcasm in the words, but underneath lay a genuine curiosity.
Ryan was silent for a long moment, considering. "Balance" he said finally.
"I do not believe in good or evil. Any one of those can be the case depending on perspective… but I still believe if you do whatever you want without affecting others, then you get to decide what is good and what is evil. And that was where you were lacking… you simply pulled yourself into the lives of others, karma caught up."
A weak chuckle escaped Chung's lips. "Quite the philosopher in your old age, aren't you?"
"Old?" Ryan grinned, some of his earlier manic energy flickering in his eyes. "I'll have you know I'm feeling younger than ever. I'm only 19".
Their shared laughter, however brief, seemed to lift some of the heaviness from the air.
For a moment, they weren't mortal enemies, but simply two warriors who had pushed each other to their limits.
As their laughter faded, Chung's expression grew serious once more. "Tell me, Spirit King... what happens now? To me, to this world you claim to protect?"
Ryan's gaze softened. "You've played your part, Chung. What comes next... that's for those who remain to decide. As for you..." He placed a hand gently on Chung's shoulder. "Rest. Your battle is over."
Chung nodded, a look of peace settling over his features. "I suppose... I can accept that." His eyes began to close, his breath growing shallower. "It was... an honor... Spirit King..."
As Chung's final breath left him, the ice that had covered the battlefield began to melt.
It was as if nature itself recognized the passing of a great power and was reclaiming what had been frozen.
Streams of water trickled between the craters, reflecting the sky above.
Ryan remained seated beside Chung's body, a solemn guardian in the aftermath of their titanic struggle.
Around them, the surviving members of the Obsidian Wraith began to stir.
One by one, they approached, falling to their knees before Ryan.
"Spirit King," one of them spoke, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear. "We... we pledge ourselves to your service."
Ryan looked up, studying the faces of those who had, until moments ago, been his enemies.
He saw fear there, yes, but also hope. A chance for redemption, for a new purpose.
"Rise," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Your old oaths are dissolved. What you do now, you do of your own free will. Choose wisely."
As the Wraith members stood, murmuring among themselves, Ryan felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him.
The adrenaline of battle was fading, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.
He swayed slightly, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Ryan!"
Migi's voice cut through the fog of fatigue.
She was running towards him, with Riei and the other women close behind.
Their faces were a mixture of concern, relief, and lingering awe.
As Migi reached him, Ryan managed a weak smile. "Hey there," he mumbled. "Quite a show, huh?".
Migi fell to her knees beside him, her hands hovering uncertainly over his body, as if afraid to touch him. "You... you're..."
"Incredible? Awe-inspiring? In desperate need of a nap?" Ryan's attempt at humor was undermined by the way his words slurred together.
Riei knelt on his other side, her usual composure cracking to reveal genuine worry.
"Spirit King, you need rest. Your power... it's beyond anything we could have imagined."
Ryan nodded, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. "Rest... yeah, that sounds good."
He looked at the faces gathered around him – Migi, Riei, the other women who had pledged themselves to him, even the uncertain expressions of the former Wraith members.
"You'll... you'll all be here when I wake up?".
"Of course," Migi said softly, finally daring to take his hand in hers. "We're not going anywhere."
With a final nod, Ryan allowed his eyes to close.
As consciousness slipped away, he felt multiple hands supporting him, lowering him gently to the ground.
The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was Migi's voice, filled with a mixture of exasperation and fondness:
"Honestly, what are we going to do with you, Darling?"
As Ryan drifted into a deep, healing sleep, the world around him began to stir.
The ice continued to melt, revealing new growth underneath.
Birds, absent during the fierce battle, began to return, their songs filling the air.
.....
×××× A/N
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