Ashura exhaled shakily, the breath rattling out of his blood-soaked chest as he knelt on the shattered ground.
"Guess… it's all over now."
Sunlight spilled across the battlefield for the first time in hours.
The ocean hummed softly beside the ruins, its waves glittering under the new dawn.
Clear skies stretched overhead, and the faint song of distant birds replaced the thunder that once tore the heavens apart.
Ashura's body finally gave in — he collapsed unconscious, the last remaining force of will leaving him.
Kaoru Hibuko… was dead.
Soon, the news reached the people.
Some spat in disgust.
"He deserved that."
Others spoke with sorrow.
"He ruined everything his ancestors stood for."
And many whispered with bitterness,
"He rotted the legendary Hibuko clan…"
Even in death, Kaoru was cursed.
Whether deserved or not — history would decide, not men.
But actions speak louder than legacy, and the world had already seen enough.
Months passed.
The four great samurai clans gathered once more under Kurozuki Rin Takeda — who had miraculously survived the war.
Their discussion was tense.
"What should we do with Kaoru Hibuko's siblings… and his parents?" someone asked.
The first meeting ended without resolution — the clans clashed, their ideas colliding like swords.
A second meeting took place days later.
Again, no answer.
Arguments rose, tempers flared, and still, no conclusion.
By the time they left, Rin Takeda had sworn:
"The next meeting will be the final one."
And so, days later —
the third meeting began.