(A low stance to conserve stamina for a long battle... No, that can’t be it. Which means—)
Lowering the blade into a low stance offered the distinct advantage of conserving both arm strength and stamina. While it wasn't an ideal posture for an aggressive offense, the form allowed for a brief respite in the heat of combat, making it well-suited for a war of attrition.
However, Ryuga was currently riddled with heavy wounds. The longer the fight dragged on, the more the disadvantage would shift against him. There was only one logical reason for him to adopt such a stance when he should have been seeking a quick finish: he was trying to recover even a fraction of the stamina and magic power he had expended in his previous assault.
"I won't let you! I'm not handing the initiative back to you!"
Zaraki saw no reason to indulge an opponent who was going out of his way to rest. Having vowed to abandon his carelessness, he knew the only path to victory was to maintain a relentless pressure. To deny Ryuga even a moment to breathe or strategize, Zaraki lunged forward.
"Take this! And this! Hah! Try and fight back if you can, you piece of trash!"
Clad in a howling gale, Zaraki unleashed a flurry of punches and sharp, sweeping strikes that sent blades of wind whistling through the air. Ryuga struggled to respond, forced into a desperate defense as he was steadily driven back.
"At this rate, Lord Ryuga will... we have to help him!"
"Wait! He told us to let him handle this! He has a plan. If we interfere now, we might ruin everything!"
"But if he doesn't...!"
"It’s okay. Let’s believe in him. He’s the partner Yugo placed his faith in. Ryuga will not lose!"
Though Ryuga was in dire straits, the light in his eyes remained undimmed. They were burning and sharp, his senses honed to a razor's edge so as not to miss a single opening. He had called himself weak, but no man who could truly acknowledge his own failings was genuinely weak.
His comrades, who had witnessed his growth and knew the depth of Yugo’s trust in him, chose to stay their hands. As they focused on recovering their own strength, the tide of the battle finally shifted.
"Now, let's end this! This is the finishing blow!"
Zaraki intensified the storm around his arms. With swirling miniature tornadoes magnifying the piercing power of his claws, he let out a roar and thrust his left arm straight at Ryuga’s heart.
"Die, Ryuga!"
The spiraling thrust closed in. Ryuga twisted his body, using the momentum of a full-body rotation to parry the strike with a horizontal slash. It was a desperate maneuver, and Zaraki had expected nothing less.
(I knew it! I knew you’d move like that! But I still have my right arm!)
In his current state, Ryuga had to commit his entire being to a single swing just to deflect one of Zaraki’s attacks. By successfully parrying the left-handed thrust, Ryuga had exhausted his momentum. He had no leverage left to defend against a second strike.
The victory was at hand. All Zaraki had to do was drive his right claws into Ryuga’s defenseless back as he finished his rotation. Convinced of his triumph, Zaraki let out a mocking laugh.
"It's over! Drop de—guargh!?"
A sudden, dull agony exploded in his abdomen. His victory cry was cut short, replaced by the sickening sound of a man retching. Zaraki’s body doubled over as he gasped in pain.
Disoriented and unable to comprehend what had happened, he glanced down. There, he saw a hole torn into the earth, and from it, a violent geyser of water gushed upward. He realized with a jolt of horror that the source of his agony was that very water—a jet of liquid that had erupted with the force of a battering ram, slamming into his gut. In that split second, Zaraki’s mind raced through the impossibility of it.
(No... no, no, no! It can’t be!)
Normal water magic shouldn't have been able to bypass his defenses so easily. This water was infused with Dragon Power. The only person capable of such a feat was Ryuga, the wielder of the Ryuo-ga.
Zaraki finally understood Ryuga's true intent behind that low stance. The tip of the katana had been touching the ground not to save stamina, but to act as a conduit, funneling magic power directly into the earth.
Ryuga had created a subterranean current, set a trap, and lured Zaraki into position by pretending to be overwhelmed. Then, at the precise moment Zaraki committed everything to his final attack, Ryuga had sprung the trap.
(This technique... this strategy...!)
The element was different, but the execution was hauntingly familiar. It was the same tactic that had once dealt Zaraki a humiliating defeat—the Flame Double Strike used by Yugo. As the realization dawned on him, Ryuga’s voice cut through the sound of the rushing water.
"I told you, didn't I? You’re the kind of fool who falls for the same trick twice."
(This is bad!)
Groaning in pain and momentarily paralyzed, Zaraki looked up to see Ryuga finishing his rotation. Ryuga used his wind magic to manipulate the air currents, riding the momentum to accelerate his blade to impossible speeds.
Zaraki knew he had to move. He knew exactly what was coming. But his misfortune lay in the fact that the man standing before him was the realm's strongest swordsman—and that this swordsman had finally cast aside every shred of hesitation.
Defense was impossible. Evasion was out of the question.
The katana, wreathed in crackling lightning, surged toward him. The tip extended with unerring precision toward his head. Barely a few seconds had passed since the geyser first erupted.
With a strike fueled by his own resolve and the collective hopes of his friends, Ryuga’s blade carved through the orb embedded in Zaraki’s forehead. A burst of lightning followed, shattering the gemstone into a million glittering shards.
"Gah!? Ah... guah! Aaaargh!"
"Zaraki... you were drunk on the power you stole and looked down on everyone else. You were so arrogant, so certain that your 'transcendent' self could never lose, that you never saw your own flaws. Because you only cared about strength, you never understood your own weakness."
Light surged from the shattered orb, coalescing into physical forms. The bow, the naginata, and the various stolen magic items flew back toward their rightful owners. Finally, a brilliant flash erupted in mid-air, and the figure of Raiha appeared, freed from her prison.
Ryuga sheathed the Ryuo-ga and caught Raiha as she fell. Seeing that she was unclothed, he immediately draped his jacket over her shoulders. Then, he looked down at the whimpering Zaraki—the half-dragon now weeping tears of blood.
"It wasn't just me who defeated you. You lost to Yugo a second time... and you lost to my comrades, who never gave up. You were beaten by people who know true strength—not the hollow, stolen power you brandish."