The sky tore open.
Clouds split as though cut by a celestial blade, and from the rift poured golden sparks that cascaded down like burning stars. A vast wall of radiance shimmered into being behind the Reapers—a gateway, but not of this world.
The Reapers did not turn.
They did not need to.
At once, both knelt. Their colossal blades rested against the earth in reverence.
From the golden gate stepped a man.
Eight feet tall, shoulders broad as mountains, his frame bore the weight of countless wars. His skin was marked by crimson tattoos: twin circles blazing over each arm's delta, and another circle across his back. All three interconnected in a design older than kingdoms, older than kings.
Every step he took was thunder.
Every breath, a storm.
He placed his hands upon the bowed shoulders of the Reapers. His voice was deep, steady, and carried with it the command of eternity.
"Now you may return to your Crynthos. I will manage this."
The Reapers bowed lower. Their voices boomed, trembling with awe:
"This is a moment of blessing. To stand in the presence of you—the divine warrior, the symbol of loyalty, the ruler of Warrior's Mirage—
The great Valerius."
At his command, they rose, their bodies dissolving into lightning. Silver and crimson storms spiraled skyward, vanishing into their realms. As they departed, the Raijin Reaper's voice lingered in the air like thunder fading over mountains:
"The man himself has descended… It must be of dire importance. This is the first time Valerius has stepped onto this stage since becoming ruler of Warrior's Mirage."
The Monarch's eyes widened, his breath caught in his chest.
Never before had he seen the great right hand of the Obsidian Circle with his own eyes.
Valerius turned, gaze like fire upon the living. His presence silenced the world.
Renji's chest clenched—he knew this name. He had read it once in that ancient book. Now it was no myth. It stood before him.
Valerius's voice carried across the stage, heavy yet noble:
"Yara.
You belong to the realm of Reapers, but not one—you are bound to both the Silver Crynthos and the Red Crynthos. Your soul is blessed by two realms."
I granted the Reapers a power no other realm can touch—that no magic, no law, no trial of gods may ever judge them. Their loyalty to the Obsidian Circle made it so. That is why your blood bends the laws of this stage.
But I did not descend only for you."
Valerius's gaze shifted to Renji. His eyes burned with a knowing fire.
"You, boy—from the Green Crynthos. Renji."
Renji stiffened.
"You have no power of your own. And yet… enchantments stir within you, unlocking what should not exist. My sword chose you. And for that, I am pleased."
He stretched forth his hand.
"Give me your arm."
Renji obeyed, trembling. Where the Blood Vanity Sword's cursed nerves bound to his skin, Valerius plucked a fragment of flesh as if tearing a thread from cloth. The wound dissolved into golden dust, and in an instant it healed—leaving no scar.
The nerves recoiled, and suddenly the blade felt light in Renji's grasp. Alive. Breathing. Its veins pulsed with countless roots of energy, pumping into steel like blood into a heart.
Valerius nodded.
"Now you wield it freely. In time, you will awaken one of my gifts—the resistance to divinity itself. Antidivinity.
He turned to the Monarch, his words edged like a command.
"You have monsters in your keeping—Ash, Renji, Yara. Nourish them. Guide them. For Renji will one day bear even the darkness of realms, and wield it without being consumed.
Beware, Monarch—do not let him fall into shadow. Do not let him become the next Dark General."
The golden sparks rose around him, the gate beginning to close. His final words rang like a war-drum:
"My duty here is done."
And with that, the great Valerius vanished into the blaze of his realm.