"Stay—stay away! Stay back!"
Realizing his ability was gone and his comrades had abandoned him, Cyan fired a desperate barrage of light bullets.
Though he sprayed the projectiles from both arms like a machine gun, Ryuga slashed through them and wove past the remaining shots, steadily closing the gap.
"Why?! Why is this happening?! I'm the protagonist! Why am I losing to some game character like you...!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryuga replied, "but one thing is certain: you are no protagonist."
"Shut up! I was chosen! I obtained incredible power and became an invincible being! With this power, I was going to be the hero who stands at the very top of the world!"
"Enough. I’ve heard quite enough of your drivel."
Ryuga had no way of knowing that Cyan was a reincarnator. He assumed the boy was simply referring to the Clear Plate he had received from Abyss.
Having no intention of entertaining Cyan’s delusions any longer, Ryuga gripped the scabbard at his waist. Utilizing the sheath in a makeshift dual-wielding style, he began striking down Cyan’s attacks head-on.
"Damn it all! Why are you still alive?! You were supposed to be dead! If you were gone, Raiha and the others would have been mine! Why won't you just die?!"
"I told you before. No matter how much you wish for it, I will not die. And one more thing—"
"!!?"
Cyan continued to unleash his attacks, mustering every ounce of strength and let out a roar of pure hatred.
Yet Ryuga remained composed, parrying, slashing, and brushing aside the onslaught as he bridged the final distance.
By all rights, the moment the "protagonists" abandoned this world, Ryuga should have been dead. As Cyan’s irritation and hatred reached a boiling point, wondering why this man continued to obstruct his plans, the tip of Ryuo-ga was thrust before his eyes.
"—Don't ask me questions."
"U-gh...!"
Cyan let out a strangled groan. He stood frozen, intimidated by Ryuga, who had deliberately broken through the rain of attacks to demonstrate the sheer difference in their strength.
Narrowing his eyes at the paralyzed man, Ryuga forced a choice upon him.
"Surrender now and hand over the Clear Plate, and I'll settle for knocking you unconscious with the back of my blade. If you still intend to resist... I will take it as a sign of your resolve. Now, which will it be?"
"Damn you... damn you...!"
Cyan trembled with humiliated rage. He was trapped, his life or death held in the hands of someone he looked down upon.
It was impossible. There was no way he, the intended protagonist, could be defeated by a mere game character.
Driven by desperation and his wounded pride, Cyan made a fatal mistake. His eyes snapped wide as he let out a scream, lunging at Ryuga with a clenched fist.
"Don't look down on me! I... I'm—!"
Mustering the last of his magic power, Cyan unleashed a full-powered right straight.
He barked, he screamed, he wagered every shred of his pride on this final act of resistance—only to be stopped in his tracks by a sharp, dull pain that exploded across his face.
"Gbuuh!"
"Thank you. I appreciate it. To tell the truth, I was hoping you would resist."
Ryuga had slammed the tip of the scabbard in his left hand into Cyan’s face as a counter.
As Cyan staggered, Ryuga watched him closely. Just before launching his next move to seize the opening, he spoke in a low, cold voice.
"Now I can carve you to pieces without any hesitation."
The defensive movements he had used to parry the light bullets flowed seamlessly into a brutal offensive. Slashes and strikes, delivered with a speed fast enough to deflect machine gun fire, rained down upon Cyan’s body.
"Gugagagagagagagagagagagagga!!"
By the time Ryuga had systematically shredded him from his chest to his torso, from his shoulders to his arms, and down to his legs—interspersing the blade work with heavy blows from the scabbard—Cyan had lost all sensation of pain.
Instead, a profound sense of exhaustion washed over him as his consciousness began to fade. As Cyan’s movements stopped completely, Ryuga delivered a reverse diagonal slash imbued with the power of the wind.
"Storm Dragon Swordsmanship: Wind Style — Seiran."
"Ga... ha...!"
Just as Ryuga had declared, Cyan staggered back several steps, his body covered in deep wounds.
Turning his back on the defeated boy, Ryuga slid his cherished sword back into its sheath with a sharp click. He spoke with biting irony as he adjusted the weapon at his waist.
"Game set. Did you enjoy your pathetic little game, 'Protagonist'?"
"Gu... ga... gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"
In response to those words, Cyan’s body erupted in a massive explosion.
As Cyan was blown back by the blast, the Clear Plate [I] was ejected from his chest. Simultaneously, his physical form began to dissolve into shimmering particles, vanishing in an instant.
"N-no... I don't... want a game over... not like this... U-uaaaaaaaaa!!"
"It seems Abyss tampered with him in some way. A pitiful creature."
Watching Cyan vanish while letting out a death scream that sounded as if it were echoing from the depths of hell, Ryuga murmured with a brief flicker of pity.
Immediately after, sensing an explosion from the castle rooftop, he raised his gaze. His thoughts turned toward his partner, who was surely still fighting high above.