"Well … done… Sekiro".

Isshin Ashina slumped into the confines of the grass beneath him. His body lay into the white flowers that seemed to be untouched by the flames beyond, unburdened by the hatred of war, or the sounds of battle; a fitting resting place for the dignified man.

"Farewell".

Never in his whole life, or rather the many lives he has recovered from had he met a man such as Isshin Ashina. No one could match Isshin's skills with the blade. None other possessed such power, speed, and strength as the man beneath him.

The memory of this battle would remain with the One-Armed Wolf to the end of his days.

Glancing back at the scene behind him; the flames of war continued to burn through the country, towering high, and as low as the rivers below. He would've liked to see Ashina flourish, regardless of his status as a Shinobi... Watching a Country falling was no reason for celebration, but victory against such a powerful opponent was.

However, celebration would not come, not in the form of Sake like the old man once enjoyed, but in the act of fulfilling one's duty. Such realisation came to the wolf, for he scanned the fields, spotting Kuro in the distance. The Wolf closed the gap instantaneously.

The Divine Heir lay beneath him, immobilised from his wounds prior, to Genichiro.

Sekiro's eyes drooped downwards, along with his figure, kneeling, and placing a hand beneath Kuro's back, lifting him upwards in support.

"I am at your side".

The words of comfort were just so: words.

Not a promise, for the Shinobi knew that both could not exist if one were to sever the ties of Immortality. Such a truth was found out upon hearing a conversation between Emma, and the Sculptor 'Orangutang' at the Dilapidated Temple. The conclusion of their conversation was a simple one.

"Those made immortal by the Oath of the Dragon's Heritage shackles their masters".

"The oathbound of the Dragon's Heritage must die".

The Wolf was not afraid of death, for he died countless times, all for the sake of the Divine Heir, accompanied by the restraints of the Iron Code, and without it, now.

Dying once more for his sake yet again was no problem.

"Take the Dragon Tears". The Wolf said, dropping the purple essence onto the Heir.

Kuro withered in pain for a second but was lulled to sleep momentarily.

The Wolf reached over his back, placing a firm grip on the hilt of the Mortal Blade, pulling the red crimson out from it's sheathed, the embers of its powers radiating from the metal like mist beneath a valley.

"I hereby condemn the last Immortal".

The loyal Wolf brings the blade towards his chest, aiming the tool capable of severing the ties of immortality to the gape of his neck.

Glancing down once more to the prince, Sekiro wished for one thing, and one thing only.

"May you live on, and embrace what it means to be human".

With a heavy heart, but with no hesitation, Sekiro swiftly delivered the blade to his neck.

Metal hit flesh... and Sakura flowers bloomed from the Shinobi in his departure, the petals rose slowly, ascending high, and towards the sun it drifted along the wind.

Sekiro, the One-Armed Wolf, loyal Shinobi of the divine heir, was no longer.

Kuro, the Divine Heir, was no longer immortal.

The Iron Code was instilled into the mind of Sekiro at a young age by his father, the Owl, with the code demanding Sekiro to obey his orders and to protect Lord Kuro. Even up to the moments of departure, he did not know the reasons for his father's actions. He brought him in, trained him in the ways of the Shinobi, yet he was the one who planted the blade in him during the sacking of the Hirata Estate. He ordered him to protect the Lord at all costs, yet demanded Sekiro to forsake the Divine Heir.

Such violence, such disregard for life, and the bonds of family. The Dragon's Heritage was truly a curse for mankind. He had seen it corrupt the mind of Genichiro Ashina, by all extents, a man with good intentions. It would be no surprise for a man as dishonourable as his father to be bewitched by such power.

Nonetheless, he would no longer be restrained by the Great Shinobi Owl, and to an extent, the Iron Code. His protection of the Divine Heir was not facilitated by this flawed code, but instead, his own. The ties of immortality are severed, and not a single fragment of regret plagued his mind. His life, for the freedom of the Divine Heir. A simple exchange… an easy decision to make.

Emma would take good care of him, that is for sure. No doubt, the Heir would be safe with the descendant of Lord Doujen accompanying him. Her frail figure betrayed the amount of strength and skill she possessed with the blade.

Sekiro expected to be taken to the afterlife, but after the many lives he took, he wouldn't be surprised if he was laid in the depths of hell, accompanied by the demons he faced for so long.

Yet the honourable Shinobi did not descend into the afterlife. He awoke.

To a world illuminated by the rays of a shattered moon.

Author's Note:

Ever died 30 times in a row in a video game? Yeah, I have and I can't say it's a good feeling. I've never really been humbled like this since Ornstein in Smough way back in DS1.

Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable experience and I'll definitely play through it again. Maybe next time around, I'll get the Shura ending.

This is a short chapter, and I promise that the next will be longer. Stay tuned, and leave your thoughts in the reviews, it would be much appreciated!