Final Life Online

Rhys snapped back at him,

"STOP SAYING THAT!! WHY IS EVERYONE OKAY WITH ME POSSIBLY DYING?!"

Dreamer adjusted his glasses again,

"We are not okay with it. We are simply… realistic."

Fate nodded way too hard,

"YES. WE LOVE YOU, RHYS. BUT ALSO—WE HAVE EYES."

Rhys yelled,

"STOP HAVING EYES THEN!!"

Zenith took a single step forward.

The ground shook.

The lights above flickered again.

Puddle screamed,

"MASTER HE IS DOING THE 'WALK OF DOOM' AGAIN!! RUN! ROLL! SOMERSAULT! PLAY DEAD!"

Rhys shook his head rapidly,

"I CAN'T PLAY DEAD, HE'LL JUST MAKE IT REAL!!"

Zenith lifted his sword slowly, deliberately.

It hummed like a storm.

Dreamer murmured,

"He's shifting into a technique… something high-level. Something fatal."

Fate gasped,

"FATAL?! WHY DO ALL HIS MOVES SOUND LIKE THEY COME WITH A DISCLAIMER?!"

Zenith pointed the blade at Rhys.

"…Let's see if you can follow this."

Rhys's soul left his body for a moment.

"I CAN'T EVEN FOLLOW MY TAXES, DON'T DO THIS TO ME."

Zenith vanished.

He didn't dash.

He didn't run.

He simply disappeared.

Rhys panicked,

"WHERE DID HE GO?! HELLO?! ANYONE SEE HIM?!"

Fate screamed,

"I SEE NOTHING—WHICH MEANS BAD THINGS ARE ABOUT TO HAPPEN TO YOU, RHYS!!"

Dreamer finally looked worried,

"This is dangerous. Rhys… prepare yourself."

A shadow flickered behind Rhys.

He spun instinctively—

blade raised—

CLAAAAAAANG!!

Zenith's sword slammed into his, sending Rhys skidding across the ground like a dropped soap bar.

"GAH—MY SPINE—MY ENTIRE SPINE!!"

Fate shouted,

"ZENITH IS USING 'SHADOW BREAKER DASH'!! THAT MOVE HAS A 100% HIT RATE!!"

Dreamer corrected softly,

"Not anymore. Rhys blocked it."

Rhys wheezed,

"NO NO NO—DON'T SAY THAT!! IF ZENITH HEARS YOU HE'LL UPGRADE IT TO 200% HIT RATE!!"

Zenith appeared in front of him again.

Another strike came down—

faster this time.

Rhys barely blocked.

SHRRAAANG!!

His arms shook.

His knees buckled.

His sword vibrated like it was screaming.

Puddle cried,

"MASTER YOUR ARMS ARE SHAKING LIKE NOODLES!! PLEASE DON'T TURN INTO PASTA!!"

Zenith stepped closer.

Strike after strike came raining down.

KANG!

KANG!

KANG!

Rhys blocked each one—

barely—

but he was pushed back further across the arena.

Fate shouted into the mic,

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, RHYS IS NOW PERFORMING THE 'PANICKED BLOCK SPAM'—A VERY ADVANCED MOVE USED BY PEOPLE WHO DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Dreamer added calmly,

"His reaction speed has increased. The resonance is stabilizing."

Zenith suddenly stopped attacking.

Rhys froze too, panting heavily.

"…What… what now…?"

Zenith lowered his sword slightly.

"Good. You can keep up… a little."

Rhys glared,

"Stop complimenting me like I'm a puppy who learned to sit!"

Zenith lifted his sword again.

And this time—

His aura turned pitch black.

Fate shrieked,

"OH NO—THAT'S THE 'END-OF-THE-ARENA' MODE!! WHY DOES HE HAVE THAT?! WHY IS THAT LEGAL?!"

Dreamer's eyes widened,

"Rhys. Move. Now."

Puddle screamed at maximum volume,

"MASTER RUNNNNNNN!!"

Zenith spoke one final word—

"Abyss Cutter."

Rhys's eyes went wide.

"…Nope. NOPE. NOPE!!"

Zenith swung.

A black crescent tore through the air—

fast—

huge—

and aimed straight for Rhys.

And Rhys did the only thing he could.

He roared,

"RUINOUS—COUNTER—SLASH!!!"

The red aura around his blade exploded outward—

and the two attacks collided in the center of the arena—

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The entire stadium shook as the blast erupted.

The explosion blasted outward like a bomb going off.

Dust.

Wind.

Debris.

Screaming audience.

Fate ducked under the announcer table,

"WHY DOES THIS FEEL LIKE AN EARTHQUAKE WITH EXTRA VIOLENCE?!"

Dreamer held onto the table calmly,

"This was expected."

"EXPECTED?!" Fate screeched. "NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS NORMAL!!"

The dust slowly, slowly started to clear.

Puddle was pressed against the barrier, eyes huge.

"MASTER!! MASTER!! ANSWER ME IF YOU ARE ALIVE!! OR COUGH!! OR SNEEZE!! OR MAKE ANY NOISE THAT GHOSTS DON'T MAKE!!"

When the smoke finally thinned—

Two figures stood.

Zenith.

Unshaken.

And Rhys.

Barely standing, legs shaking like a baby deer learning to walk.

He was still holding his sword… but the blade was cracked.

Rhys coughed,

"…I'm… alive. AGAIN. SOMEHOW. WHY."

Fate shot up from behind the table,

"HE SURVIVED THE ARENA-ENDING EXPLOSION!! RHYS HAS OFFICIALLY JOINED THE RANK OF 'WHY WON'T YOU DIE' CHARACTERS!!"

Dreamer nodded,

"His counter technique succeeded. Barely."

Zenith stared at him,

expression unreadable.

"…Impressive."

Rhys glared weakly,

"STOP SAYING THAT LIKE I'M DOING PARTY TRICKS."

Zenith took a single step forward.

Rhys flinched so hard he almost fell over.

Puddle gasped,

"MASTER DO NOT FAINT!! FAINTING NOW WILL LEAD TO MORE PAIN!!"

Rhys shouted back,

"I KNOW THAT!! I AM PAINFULLY AWARE!!"

Zenith lowered his sword for a moment.

Everyone went silent.

Even Fate stopped talking.

Zenith finally spoke,

"You survived the Abyss Cutter. Very few can."

Rhys blinked.

"…Is that a compliment? Or a threat? I can't tell anymore."

Zenith continued,

"This next attack… will decide everything."

Rhys froze.

Fate instantly screamed,

"WHY IS THERE ALWAYS A 'NEXT ATTACK'?! WHY CAN'T WE HAVE A 'FINAL ATTACK THAT IS SAFE AND FRIENDLY'?!"

Dreamer corrected him quietly,

"Because Zenith wants a decisive winner."

Zenith raised his sword—

but it wasn't glowing black this time.

It burned with a blinding white aura.

Rhys squinted,

"WHAT—WHY DOES HE HAVE A LIGHT MODE TOO?! PICK ONE THEME!! PICK DARK OR PICK LIGHT!! YOU CAN'T HAVE BOTH!! THAT'S CHEATING!!"

Zenith ignored him.

Puddle screamed,

"MASTER HIS SWORD LOOKS LIKE THE SUN!! PLEASE RUN OR TURN INVISIBLE OR BECOME A PARTICLE OF DUST AND HIDE!!"

Rhys wanted to cry,

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BECOME DUST!!"

Zenith took a stance.

A calm one.

A balanced one.

Dreamer's eyes widened,

"…This is Zenith's ultimate form."

Fate sweatdropped,

"WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE AN 'ULTIMATE FORM'? WHAT ABOUT RHYS? DOES HE HAVE ONE? NO? NOT YET? GREAT. AMAZING. LOVE THAT FOR HIM."

Zenith whispered the name of the technique—

"Radiant Judgment."

Rhys felt his soul panic.

"I AM TOO YOUNG FOR JUDGMENT!!"

Zenith moved.

The air itself split with light.

And Rhys, shaking, cracked sword in hand, red aura flickering out—

did the only thing he could do.

He raised his blade and shouted with everything left in him,

"RUINOUS… FINAL… GUARD!!"

White and red met in a blinding clash—

and the arena exploded again.