Lyra knew before she fell.
Not because of pain—but because the world stopped offering paths forward.
The Sanctum Arbiter stood before her, alone, unhurried, his presence folding the battlefield inward. The ground was cracked, mana burned thin, and Lyra's hands no longer responded the way they should have.
Her breath came shallow.
Her vision narrowed.
This is the end, she thought—not in fear, but in acceptance.
Astrael slipped from her grasp.
The moment her heart stuttered—
The First Sword remembered.
Not Lyra's memories.
Its own.
⚔️ DARK OBSERVATION — BREATH OF THE VOID
Before time resumed, Astrael saw.
Not with sight—
but with instinct older than eyes.
Killing intent.Mana flow.The exact moment the Arbiter intended to strike.
Every outcome branched—and collapsed into one.
Danger. Absolute. Unavoidable.
The condition was met.
ASURA OF THE BLACK SEA
The battlefield flooded.
Dark mana surged outward—not violently, but authoritatively, forming a pressure that bent space itself. The Arbiter froze, not restrained—overwhelmed.
Behind Lyra, something manifested.
Not illusion.
Not spirit.
An Asura-like presence, cloaked in void, wielding three overlapping blades of darkness.
Steel remembered what it once was.
1. DARK THREE-SWORD STYLE — BLACK MOON ASURA
Three blades moved.
Each slash cut space, not flesh.
The Arbiter staggered as reality fractured around him—multiple spatial wounds landing at once, impossible to track, impossible to block.
He raised a barrier.
It meant nothing.
2. SANTORYU — DARK CLOAKED ONI GIRI
Astrael pulled Lyra forward.
Not faster than reason—truer than it.
All three blades aligned, wrapped in dense dark mana, tearing through layered defenses with brutal precision. The Arbiter was forced back for the first time.
The world noticed.
3. DIMENSION-SPLITTING TATSUMAKI
Lyra spun.
Space followed.
A dark vortex formed—silent, devouring—shredding the ground, slicing dimensions as it expanded. The Arbiter anchored himself, barely resisting as the battlefield twisted.
Stone screamed.
Reality bent.
4. DARK MOON DRAGON TWISTER
The vortex collapsed inward.
Dark mana coiled, taking the shape of a vast rotating dragon-dome, pulling everything toward its center.
The Arbiter's control fractured.
This was no longer combat.
This was judgment approaching.
5. YAMI CLAN ART — VOID-CUTTING LION'S SONG
Silence.
Astrael moved once.
No wind.No sound.No warning.
The slash landed before the Arbiter realized motion had occurred.
His presence cracked—not physically, but existentially.
6. THREE-SWORD STYLE — BLACK HOLE SANZEN SEKAI
Three blades converged.
At their meeting point, darkness condensed into a temporary gravity core—devouring magic, space, and resistance alike.
The Arbiter was dragged forward, unable to escape.
But Astrael was not finished remembering.
7. DIMENSION-CLEAVING DEATH LION
A cross-shaped slash followed.
Clean. Precise.
It cut through layers of defense, regeneration, and authority—leaving behind a lingering void scar that refused to close.
The Arbiter tried to speak.
No sound emerged.
8. FINAL TECHNIQUE — THE NIGHT THAT CUTS FATE
This slash had no form.
Only will.
Astrael cut belief itself—the Arbiter's certainty that this outcome could not happen.
Fate fractured.
And then—
The First Sword reached deeper.
Deeper than techniques.
Deeper than memory.
☠️ SANTORYU FORBIDDEN FINAL ARTCERBERUS — JUDGMENT OF THE THREE REALMS ☠️
The world went still.
Dark mana condensed behind Lyra, shaping itself into Cerberus—the three-headed hound of the abyss.
Each head opened its eyes.
FIRST HEAD — DEVOUR THE FLESH
A single overwhelming physical slash.
Not brutal.
Inevitable.
All defenses—armor, strength, endurance—ceased to matter.
SECOND HEAD — DEVOUR THE WILL
Dark magic and ki struck simultaneously.
The Arbiter's intent shattered.
His control, fearlessness, and authority collapsed into silence.
THIRD HEAD — DEVOUR THE PATH
A dimension-cleaving judgment.
Space folded shut.
Escape erased.
Future outcomes severed.
All three slashes landed at the same instant,from different planes of existence.
Reality itself bit down.
AFTER
The Arbiter was not destroyed.
He was judged unworthy of continuing the story.
Three overlapping void scars remained in the air, slowly closing—like claw marks fading as the gate to something deeper shut.
The dark mana dissipated.
Cerberus vanished.
Astrael fell silent.
Lyra collapsed—but breathed.
Later, when she woke, the battlefield was empty.
Only the First Sword remained beside her.
Quiet.
As if nothing had happened.
But legends would spread of that moment—not as an attack, but as truth:
"When the wielder stood at the edge of death,the blade chose them over fate."