A spirit still wanders this mess, blade in hand to silence the voices that would overwhelm it. And yet for all that speaks, I cannot hear them for I grew death to any language many years past.
My blade is imaginary, my mind is sharper. I kill the daylight and resurrect the night, not for darkness but for the moonlight. Protected by the lunar gods I forge a path to cut the demons down, to burn their realms and chase them out. Redusa guide me for I have fallen, but last man standing I shall stand with time. Without time or a place to exist.

☆A chasm that's empty, with more than a universe
We pass on their hands without gaining on distance
Their weapon is such and their war is eternal
Redusa, Diminish. Battling forever. Dancing in a stream with no bank.
Each letter of its blade is a word to decipher
- We aim to get stronger by making us weaker
- Of York gave the battle but vanity withheld for what is true is what lies with in
- A place where the title's path is not tracked, where mountains rise and fall in waves and paths are forged in blood or ink
- It's the end of an... it's extinction. A thousand years that pass☆
The answer is four words.