Purity Against the All-Seeing Eye
The Endless Abyss had not yet recovered from the last battle.
Ash still floated in the air. The arena floor was scarred beyond repair, layered with burn marks, shattered sigils, and silent proof that Round Two had crossed the line of restraint long ago.
Sam stood at the center platform.
His expression was calm—but his eyes were not.
"The second match of Round Two," his voice echoed across the Abyss,
"will now begin."
A pause.
"Zingari… versus Ghost Eye."
The name itself bent the atmosphere.
Two figures rose from opposite ends of the colosseum.
Ghost Eye moved first.
He stepped forward slowly, his long black kimono trailing behind him like a shadow refusing to let go. In his hand rested a massive black scythe, its curved blade reflecting nothing—not light, not flame, not even space itself.
A dark aura poured from him, thick and oppressive.
Every step he took felt like time hesitating.
Across the arena, Zingari entered.
The moment her foot touched the ring—
A sound echoed.
Not loud.
Not forceful.
A soft, resonant tone, like the first note of a hymn.
The oppressive darkness thinned.
The arena felt… clean.
Zingari walked forward calmly, white dress flowing gently, golden hair glowing faintly under the Abyssal light. Her presence alone brought balance, as if corruption hesitated to exist near her.
Sam watched closely.
This match… won't be decided by strength alone.
Sam raised his hand.
"Begin."
Ghost Eye moved instantly.
Without emotion, he swung his scythe, black boundary force exploding outward as the blade carved through space toward Zingari's chest.
Zingari did not move.
For a single heartbeat—
Her eyes shifted.
Black… to gold.
The scythe passed through her body.
And cut nothing.
The figure dispersed like mist.
A cloud clone.
From behind Ghost Eye—
Music erupted.
A sudden, piercing note screamed through the air, sharp enough to rupture eardrums. Blood spilled from Ghost Eye's ears as he staggered back, clutching his head.
The sound cut off just as abruptly.
Zingari's gentle voice followed.
"I'm here, Brother Ghost Eye," she said with a soft smile.
"Please… try again."
Something inside Ghost Eye snapped.
His calm shattered.
"You dare—"
He opened his Third Eye.
The sealed mark on his forehead split open, revealing an abyssal pupil glowing with terrifying clarity. At the same time, the Glacier Ring on his finger ignited, cold blue runes spinning rapidly.
Sam stiffened.
That ring…
He knew it instantly.
"That's Master Luke's ring," Sam muttered.
"It nullifies the stamina drain of the Third Eye."
Meaning—
Ghost Eye could see endlessly.
Past. Present. Future.
Without cost.
Ghost Eye attacked again.
This time, he didn't swing blindly.
A black fireball formed instantly and shot toward Zingari.
Zingari raised her flute, soundwaves spiraling outward to neutralize the attack—
Too late.
The scythe appeared from her blind side.
The blade pierced through her arm.
Blood splashed across the arena floor.
Zingari gasped and twisted away just in time—centimeters from death.
Ghost Eye didn't stop.
A sphere of condensed darkness formed from his scythe and exploded toward her.
Zingari dodged, spinning midair, barely escaping as the blast erased stone behind her.
She countered—appearing in front of Ghost Eye and driving her fist toward his chest.
Impact.
Nothing.
Her fist passed through him.
A clone.
The real Ghost Eye appeared behind her, scythe already descending.
Zingari twisted, the blade grazing her shoulder instead of her neck. She slid back, breathing heavier now, blood dripping from her hand.
Ghost Eye's voice was cold.
"You cannot defeat someone who sees every outcome."
Zingari straightened slowly.
Her expression hadn't changed.
"You're wrong," she replied softly.
"You can't see everything."
Ghost Eye's Third Eye pulsed.
He frowned.
For the first time—
The future blurred.
The arena grew tense.
Sam leaned forward.
So even the Third Eye has limits…
Zingari lifted her flute once more.
The melody this time was different.
Slower.
Deeper.
Not an attack.
Not yet.
It felt like a question.
And Ghost Eye, despite seeing countless futures—
Did not know the answer.
This had happened too many times.
The dodging.
The clones.
The predictions.
Zingari exhaled slowly.
Not in exhaustion.
In irritation.
Her calm smile faded—not into anger, but into something colder. More decisive.
The flute dissolved in her hand.
In its place formed a bone dagger, pale and ancient, its surface carved with natural grooves that looked less like craftsmanship and more like memory itself.
The moment it appeared—
The air vibrated.
Ghost Eye felt it instantly.
His Third Eye flared, visions overlapping at once. He moved to strike, guided by countless futures—
But the dagger sang.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
A single, dissonant tone rippled outward.
Ghost Eye staggered.
His senses blurred. Time lost alignment. Futures overlapped incorrectly, crashing into one another like broken mirrors.
Zingari moved.
The bone dagger glowed—golden.
She struck.
Not at Ghost Eye.
At his weapon.
The dagger collided with the black scythe.
There was no explosion.
No shockwave.
Just a clean, horrifying sound.
Crack.
The scythe shattered.
Fragments of darkness dissolved into ash before they even hit the ground.
Silence swallowed the arena.
Every general froze.
The audience stared.
Breaking the weapon of a man who could see the future was not just rare—
It was unthinkable.
Ghost Eye looked down at his empty hand.
For the first time—
He was shocked.
Then his expression twisted.
Dark boundary force erupted violently from his body as he forced his Third Eye to its absolute maximum. Shadows spiraled outward, crushing the air itself.
A massive dark sphere formed above his palm and launched toward Zingari.
Zingari raised her dagger.
Another sound resonated.
The attack split—half vanishing completely.
The remaining darkness struck her skin, burning through flesh—
And healed within seconds.
Ghost Eye's Third Eye burned brighter.
But instead of the future—
He saw the past.
Rebecca.
Laughter beneath the glacier tree.
Her smile.
The day he proposed.
The way she believed in him without question.
The moment he vanished.
Tears welled in his eyes.
The dark boundary force weakened.
Ghost Eye's shoulders trembled.
"I… ruined everything," he whispered.
The power collapsed.
He turned away.
"I surrender."
Gasps echoed through the Endless Abyss as Ghost Eye walked out of the ring without another word.
Zingari lowered her dagger.
Not victorious.
Just quiet.
Sam rose.
"Winner of Match Two," he announced,
"Zingari."
He paused.
Then continued—
"The final match of the tournament will be—"
The air tightened.
"Sage versus Zingari."
The Abyss fell silent.
Two figures.
Two philosophies.
Discipline versus harmony.
Steel versus sound.
Control versus acceptance.
Zingari closed her eyes.
Sage opened his.
And somewhere deep within the Endless Abyss—
The final battle began before the first strike