The sky above the Shadow Fortress had turned into a swirling mass of black and crimson, as if the heavens themselves were being consumed by Ryuketsu’s growing power. The fortress, once a stronghold of an ambitious warlord, now pulsed with dark energy—its walls twisted and reshaped by the corruption festering within.

  Inside the throne room, Zyphor knelt, sweat dripping from his forehead. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling violently. His veins pulsed with dark energy, unnatural symbols appearing across his skin like cursed runes binding him to something far beyond mortal understanding.

  His mind was at war.

  He could hear Ryuketsu’s voice whispering within him. "Why do you resist, Zyphor? You have already lost."

  Zyphor clenched his fists. "I… won’t… be controlled."

  "Fool."

  A surge of pain shot through his entire body. He gasped, gripping his head as memories twisted—his past, his victories, his defeats, all bending into something unrecognizable. He was being rewritten, piece by piece, his very existence consumed by the entity lurking within him.

  But still, he resisted.

  He had fought his entire life to claim his power, to rise above all others. He would not be a pawn.

  His grip on reality tightened. "I am Zyphor, Warlord of the Shadow Fortress! No one commands me!"

  The fortress trembled. For a moment, the dark energy around him seemed to falter.

  Then, Ryuketsu laughed.

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  "Then allow me to show you… the truth of your weakness."

  Zyphor’s body stiffened.

  Dark tendrils erupted from the floor, wrapping around him like chains. He struggled, but they tightened, dragging him into the abyss that had been waiting for him all along.

  A vision tore through his mind.

  He saw his past battles—but not as he remembered them. In every fight, he was weaker. His victories were hollow. The men who had followed him, who had sworn loyalty to him, were merely using him. His strength, his pride, his ambition… they had never been real.

  It was a lie.

  He had always been destined to fall.

  The last remnants of his resistance shattered.

  His scream echoed through the fortress, but it was not one of rage—it was one of surrender.

  His body stopped trembling. The energy around him grew still.

  And then, his eyes opened—now glowing with an eerie crimson light.

  Zyphor was gone.

  Only Ryuketsu remained.

  The entire fortress pulsed as dark energy erupted outward, a shockwave that shattered walls and sent tremors through the land itself. The sky darkened further, storm clouds swirling in response to the awakening of the true Ryuketsu.

  A new form emerged from the throne room. Zyphor’s body had changed—his once-mortal frame now infused with unholy power. His armor, now blackened and pulsing with dark energy, bore the markings of an ancient force long forgotten. His crimson eyes, devoid of humanity, scanned the world with an eerie stillness.

  He took a step forward, and the very ground beneath him cracked under his presence.

  He raised his hand. The corpses of the fallen warriors in the fortress rose once more, their bodies reshaped into grotesque, monstrous soldiers.

  Ryuketsu flexed his fingers, testing his new form. "Yes… this body will do."

  The world would soon know his wrath.

  Far away, Raizo and Tenzir felt the surge of dark energy. The force was unlike anything they had ever encountered before. The wind howled, trees bent under the weight of the growing power, and the land itself seemed to wail in agony.

  Tenzir clicked his tongue. "Well… that’s not good."

  Raizo’s grip on his sword tightened. "It’s finally happened."

  The war they had been preparing for had officially begun.

  Ryuketsu had claimed his vessel.

  And now, he was coming for them.