Absolute Trash.

The flurry of sword qi around Ryu only grew denser. Battle scars began to appear one after another, the once pristine and well kempt ground slowly becoming more disordered. 

Ryu's steps subconsciously came to a stop, his gaze looking out into empty space. Before his feet, there was yet another deep gash, but this one was far deeper than many of the ones he had crossed until now. 

The gash was a deep and long streak, but at its tips, it splintered almost like the sides of a star. A deep aura of danger exuded from it, wafting out in waves and warding off all those who wanted to get close. And yet, Ryu stood merely a foot away from it, his gaze a bit vacant. 

The scenes of the battle that caused this gash replayed in Ryu's mind. 

Numerous clashing entities fought all about, each wielding a sword. This was at most a small skirmish amidst the larger battle, and yet it had left behind a scar so many didn't even dare to approach.