On the arena stage, surrounded by layers upon layers of ice mirrors.
Zabuza, who had been entrusted with great expectations, had no time to pay attention to the hundreds and thousands of ice blades about to strike him. Instead, he completely immersed his consciousness in his inner world.
It was a shattered, desolate land. There was no sunlight overhead, nor any shadow beneath his feet. As far as the eye could see, towering walls stood on every side, while faint, clamorous sounds continuously drifted over from beyond them.
"So this is my inner world..."
Zabuza looked around and murmured softly.
Then, driven by an intense desire, he walked toward the walls surrounding him, which seemed to be blocking off some kind of danger.
Only when he stood atop the ramparts did he finally see the world outside.
It was an environment as brutal as the Avici Hell itself. Beneath lay what seemed like a bottomless abyss, with blazing flames burning below and blood pools steaming and corroding everything. Most importantly—countless shadows struggled and howled within it.
When he looked closely.
"Those... are they... the classmates... I killed...?"
Zabuza murmured under his breath.
He felt neither shock nor fear. Perhaps he had already anticipated this when he learned that he possessed Ghostly Aura, or perhaps the whispers he occasionally heard in his dreams had long made him aware of it.
The wronged souls who had died by his hand had never left him.
"So, I was always afraid of facing you?"
Zabuza looked at the towering wall beneath his feet and suddenly understood why it existed.
"Heh. Did I think that locking myself behind these walls would let me escape everything? What a cowardly thing to do!"
He slowly closed his eyes and reached out to stroke the battlements.
"Though I