Thousands more take their place, with no end in sight, all shooting into Amakros. It matters not the power he has, as before the sheer infinite might and versatility, even with only a tiny fraction surviving, hundreds of blades still pierce through. Amakros is impaled, skewered, upon dozens of blades, and even as he regenerates the wounds, more take their place.
"I am the bone of my sword... RHO AIAS!"
A seven-petaled flower of light forms before Zephyr, from which a seven-layered shield manifests. The wave of deepflames crashes against it, a tidal wave of dark fire surging past Zephyr, but the shield holds, not even cracking before the flame's might.
In one hand, Zephyr manifests a new weapon. It is a lance, silver in color, with its hilt breaking into ornate spirals of light. The very presence of the blade is one that tugs at his soul, tearing away at the laws of reality itself. It's not what Amakros expected from Zephyr, perhaps, but rather one that exudes a different presence. A holy presence.
"This is the end. As your life withers away, the End of the Work shall be unleashed. I am the King of Demons, the wave that will swallow your dream. I am the one who shall bring an end you. ... But feel no sadness. Happiness shall be granted to humanity. Their limited lives will receive eternity, freedom, and protection. I will free them from their suffering, Standing as the king of my loyal subjects. That is the meaning behind what I do, Amakros. THE ULTIMATE CONCLUSION OF WHAT IT MEANS TO BE KING!"
As Rho Aias begins to crack and break, he points the lance forward.
"Light, may you be released from the ends of the world. Split the heavens and tether the earth, anchor of the storm!"
The tip of the spear grows with holy light as reality itself begins to fracture. The work itself is rendered moot before the lance's sheer power.
"Rhongomyniad!"
To Amakros, his entire vision glows white. The Doppelganger is shattered, the countermagic and deepflames burning away as he takes the full brunt of something that even he cannot quite describe. A torrent of golden light, enough to tear away the earth and bring about the age of the gods back to the world, surges into him, engulfing him entirely. Such is its power that even Unlimited Lost Works and Amakros' own Pocket Dimension, the Phylactery that has protected him for so long, are being ripped away.