Chapter 90 The Fated Battle

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No one's POV

The war had reached its climax. Zora who's been asleep for over half a month was finally up and awake. Philia smile through her tears, that they boy she'd love and come all the way to the Underworld to save has finally stand and ready to save them.

Liena: Zora.

Ronie: Zora-senpai.

Philia: Welcome back, Zora.

Next, Sortiliena and Ronie called out his name in unison. Zora nodded to them with a smile and faced forward again. There was a stern quality to his expression.

Over thirty feet away, PoH got back to his feet with a smoothness that seemed to ignore the power of gravity. The Chinese and Korean players that had been about to kill one another were still entirely frozen by the ice vines, which should have stopped the generation of fresh spatial resources, but the swirling black clouds were still on the move overhead, and PoH's knife was still absorbing power. The Grim Reaper wasn't going to stop unless his weapon was destroyed.

Zora stood up a second later. He faltered but kept his balance. Philia had to stifle the urge to rush to his side and keep him stable. She barely had the strength to stand herself, so throwing herself into the situation would only make her a liability. Now was the time to believe in Zora. Just believing would be a source of strength in itself.

Zora lifted his regenerated arm and drew the black sword from its sheath, right from where it lay on the ground. Then he rose again and felt its weight in his palm.

It was a different shape from his old sword, Prosperity, and the other sword was broken in half—but the image of him dual-wielding both blades belonged to none other than the Night Sky Swordsman, who had protected, guided, and granted strength to Philia from the day they had met.

The white longsword in his left hand sparkled like diamond dust, exuding its frosty aura. The superpower that was immobilizing over twenty thousand soldiers at once was still being maintained, but there was no hint of effort or concentration on Zora's face. It was as though someone else was standing at his side, sharing his burden.

Zora trudged forward, holding two swords at once, staring directly into the two red eyes shining from PoH's hood. The man spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, exposing the giant hole in his chest. This was the person that had took everything from Zora during his days at SAO. His last remaining family was taken from him by this man

PoH:...So, you're awake at last. How long has it been since we stared each other in the face and had a conversation in person?

The reaper's voice was harsh, like rusted metal scraping together. Everyone who knows the history between these two fighter would be sure that Zora would feel an enormous rage. But Zora just channeled his Aincrad days; his voice was aloof but with a sharp edge at its core.

Zora: You know, I've lost track. But I know this time will be the last.

PoH whistled in admiration.

PoH: How nice...You're the best, Zora. C'mon...Let's pick up where we left off. We haven't really cut loose since Aincrad.

He lifted the Mate-Chopper—which was more of a machete now that it was three times its usual size—as though it were as light as a feather. The black clouds overhead swirled even harder, and dark-red sparks danced around the thick slab of metal. Zora, meanwhile, lifted his black sword straight back. But the moment the sword reached a vertical angle, his weakened body faltered, unable to support the full weight of the weapon.

Philia already knew that the Underworld wasn't the same as any other VRMMO world built under The Seed's specifications. Every object that existed here was a mnemonic visual created solely through memory and was subject to the influence of the brain's power to envision and imagine.

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