Ryo stood over Ryak, chest heaving, hands slick with blood and dark residue. The world around him seemed to hold its breath. He had done it—defeated Ryak—but the victory felt hollow.
As Ryak collapsed, his Damik vanished into the Spirit World, returning to where lost powers belonged. The threat that had haunted them was gone… for now.
Then Lurama's mother regained consciousness. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight before her: her son held in Ryo's bloodied hands.
"No! You monster! Why? Why did you kill my son?" she screamed, voice raw and trembling.
Ryo froze. Words would not come. The battlefield, the weight of his dark matter, the screams of the fallen—they all pressed down on him. Slowly, he took Lurama's glove from her hands, met her gaze, and without a word, turned and walked away.
Back on solid ground, Ryo collapsed under the drawbacks of his dark matter. Pain tore through his muscles. His vision blurred. Every step felt like climbing a mountain. The others had endured their trials. Now it was his turn.
And in the eyes of the world, he was already the monster:
The one who let Ryak escape (his Damik returning to the Spirit World).
The one who killed Lurama, at least as they believed.
Every step forward carried judgment, whispers, and fear.
The group moved together, silent but tense, toward the next kingdom: Sonielia.
Ryo's footsteps were heavy but determined. Damik remained quiet for once, letting the weight of the moment sink in. The others followed, wary but resolute.
Every gaze, every whisper, marked him as the boy who had become a monster—and nothing would ever be the same again.