Mara looks up and notices three vultures circling above him.
He glances at his burning sword and says softly,
"It carries a rather pleasant scent…"
But he remains busy admiring his own blade.
After a moment, he murmurs,
"It almost feels as if… I am a Hashira."
Holding up his blazing sword, he points it toward the vultures,
as if preparing to strike.
His eyes begin to glow.
Suddenly, his expression turns serious.
"Today… I'll show them Sun Breathing."
In front of him, the three vultures stand ready to attack Mara.
With pride in his stride, Mara moves forward.
Suddenly, the three vultures descend from the sky, rushing down toward the ground and stopping close to him.
Mara strikes at one of them—
but it disappears the moment his blade touches it.
The remaining two launch a direct attack at his chest…
yet the instant they make contact, they vanish as well.
Mara freezes.
There is pain—sharp and real—
but there are no wounds on his body, no blood.
It feels as if the attack did not strike his body…
but went straight through his soul.
Confusion fills his mind.
Before he can understand anything,
the three vultures suddenly attack again—this time from behind.
Mara, caught off guard, is struck and falls to the ground.
A cry of pain escapes him.
Slowly… he rises again.
He looks at his sword—
it is still burning.
Now, he is fully alert.
"What… is this?" he mutters.
"This is far too terrifying… I have to find a way to counter this."
Suddenly, from his right side, the three vultures move toward Mara once again,
passing through his arm, his head, and his chest before disappearing instantly.
This time, Mara steadies himself, no matter how much discomfort he feels.
"I will end this today," he says firmly.
At that moment, one of the vultures approaches from the left.
But this time, Mara is ready.
With precise movement, he swings his blazing sword straight through it.
The creature begins to break apart in a flash of light,
fading away into nothingness.
Mara tightens his expression.
"They're not even giving me a moment to think…"
Suddenly, one of the Garuds moves toward Mara from the front, aiming near his eye.
Mara mutters,
"Do they all move in a fixed pattern… like the direction of clock hands?"
At that very moment, another one approaches from above and makes contact near his head before vanishing again.
Mara frowns.
"No… that's not it."
Just then, one of the Garuds moves in from his right side.
Mara quickly steps aside.
This time, he notices something—
the one that moved from the right has not disappeared.
It comes at him again.
But without giving Mara any time to react,
it reaches his neck with a swift motion…
and Mara falls to the ground.
Mara begins to think.
"One of them is black… and the other is white.
That means they are different."
"When the black one moves, it feels like a sudden surge—like lightning.
And when the white one moves, it feels as if it is made of light…"
"Do they possess different powers?"
Just then, the white one comes straight at Mara from the front,
its sharp claws passing through his chest.
A wave of pain surges through him.
Without hesitation, Mara swings his sword toward it.
For a moment, he sees it beginning to break apart into fragments…
but suddenly, it disappears again.
Now, in front of him stands the black one.
It advances from the sky, moving with the speed and force of lightning.
Mara slowly rises to his feet.
This time, anger burns within him.
His ears, nose, and eyes are stained, his body weakened…
yet his breath continues.
Just then, the creature rushes toward Mara, attempting to strike again.
But suddenly, Mara stops it with one hand, gripping it firmly.
Lowering his head slightly, he speaks in a deep, composed voice:
"This… is Scar's territory.
I am the one who drove the beasts out of the lake.
There is no place here for the weak."
His voice carries a calm yet terrifying weight.
With that, he raises his blazing sword and drives it straight through the creature.
In an instant, it begins to break apart—
scattering into glowing fragments, carried away by the wind.
Translation:
Mara suddenly collapses.
He has no energy left.
He breathes heavily, struggling to steady himself.
"What… is all this?" he mutters.
"These particles… the ones that are glowing…
could they be matter—something that contains light, lightning, heat, and chemical energy?"
"Does that mean they are made of some kind of soul-based particles…?
Or is this a form of spiritual energy?"
He pauses, trying to understand.
"But where does the soul go…?
It never truly ends… it only moves from one body to another."
"Then what is happening here…?"
His thoughts begin to spiral.
"First, I thought everything followed a fixed order…
but here, even the rise of the sun feels uncertain."
"Does time even move here… or not?"
Mara slowly looks at his hand.
The thread he once tied around it… is no longer there.
Translation:
Mara takes a deep breath and says,
"Perhaps… it was because of the sword.
During the fight, the thread must have burned to ashes."
He looks at his blade.
"How long will this sword keep burning?
If anything happens to it… my death is certain."
Just then, he hears the sound of a girl screaming in the distance.
And in that very instant…
the flames on his sword suddenly fade away, turning it completely dark.
"Is this… a sign of some dark force?"