“Sun Sword, Crimson Lotus, First Form: Prominence.”

With Icarus Wing flaring behind him and Prominence blazing along his blade, Leon charged forward with explosive force. The air burst apart, and even sound lagged behind his swing.

“Good! That’s what I wanted!” Nekator shouted.

Pleased that his opponent was coming head-on, the Bishop of Destruction raised both fists, meeting him head-on. Fists blackened by the Destruction Technique clashed with a sword of gold.

Light and darkness collided, sending both men hurtling backward before they sprang at each other again. Their ways of life had nothing in common, but the way they fought was eerily alike.

“Destruction Technique, First Form: Heaven’s Collapse.”

After another clash, Nekator extended a hand. Waves of darkness erupted from his palms, an all-devouring night that erased anything weaker in its path, ignoring substance itself as it reduced matter to nothing.

However, Leon’s power did not pale beside it.

“Sun Sword, Crimson Lotus, Second Form.”

Flare, the secret technique he had created while developing the Winter Serpent trap, rose above his sword.

Flames brighter and more substantial than those of several Masters combined blazed along Leon’s blade as he focused on piercing a single point. Facing the incoming darkness, he thrust forward without a flicker of hesitation to break through the black wave with the spear of brilliance.

Using the Stigma of the Observer, he had pinpointed the most fragile point and concentrated his power there. It wasn’t enough to finish Nekator, but Leon wasn’t alone.

Anna appeared behind Nekator and swung her staff.

“You seem to be underestimating us, Destroyer.”

The curved crook of her shepherd’s staff hooked around his ankle, scything through his balance. As Nekator stumbled for an instant, the other two moved in. Dominic leaped into the air and layered wall after wall of solid Aura from his palms. Caught mid-movement, Nekator had no time to dodge and was crushed beneath them.

No, not quite crushed.

“Kehe... Keh... Hahahaha!”

Shattering through the walls, Nekator burst free, his crimson eyes wild with frenzy. He bore not a single wound worth mentioning.

“Good! You guys will do nicely! Hahahaha! My blood’s on fire! Come on, try to kill me!”

From beneath his feet, a spike of shadow lunged upward—silent, traceless, a true first-strike kill technique. Yet Nekator reacted as if he had expected it all along. He stepped back half a pace, kicked, and shattered the spike into mist.

It was proof enough that the Destruction Technique far outclassed Pitch-Black Dance in raw strength.

Of everyone there, only Leon could stand against him head-on. Realizing that, Leon once again drew Nekator’s attention and charged.

Every clash of sword and fist rang out like cannon fire, shockwaves shaking the air. Even the other Masters dared not intervene; the vortex of power was too deadly.

He’s insane! Leon thought. Blocking and dodging are not on his mind at all.

After exchanging more than a hundred blows in moments, Leon finally understood just how monstrous Nekator truly was. He didn’t guard, nor did he evade. He met every attack with another strike from the opposite angle. Every choice he made in combat came down to one thing—attack.

It wasn’t even the self-sacrificial “strike through the flesh to cut the bone.” It was closer to mutual destruction—trading heavier wounds for the chance to bleed his foe dry.

—His offense is so overwhelming that even fighting like that, he still wins. You could hit him ten times, he hits you once, and his one blow does more damage.

That Destruction Technique of his... It’s practically cheating, Leon thought. It’s like an Aura Blade that erases everything it touches. It has offense and defense in perfect union. It’s an ultimate spear and shield fused into one.

He couldn’t win by brute force. Even if Leon’s output surpassed Nekator’s, that edge alone would never secure victory.

I can’t let him use his finishing move. I can’t even give him the chance.

The answer was simple. Force him into a position where he couldn’t gather power for a major technique. Alone, that would’ve been impossible, but four against one made it attainable.

He didn’t need to say it aloud to the others. The moment Leon shifted his stance, the three Masters caught on and moved in perfect rhythm.

As his ankle caught once more on Anna’s staff, Nekator spat a curse and twisted his body, spinning to counterattack.

“Tch. Playing boring now, aren't we?!”

Though Anna didn’t possess overwhelming strength, her specialty was in reading and disrupting “flow.” Ignoring her because she seemed weak was fatal, as she could shatter a rhythm at the most decisive instant. Nekator sensed that instinctively and turned his hand toward her, preparing to unleash Heaven’s Collapse.

“Not a chance!”

Just as he was about to release it, Dominic’s surge of Aura walls swept over him. It wasn’t enough to completely suppress Heaven’s Collapse, but it bought Anna more than enough time to escape.

By the time the darkness tore through the dozens of destroyed barriers, both of them had already vanished, and the pursuit that followed was cut off by Karen’s ambush.

With a series of thwips, dozens of shadow stakes flew. They were so fine and fast that even Nekator reacted a beat too late. They weren’t particularly powerful, just barely enough to pierce a layer of skin or graze muscle, but what if their tips were laced with poison?

If they carried the synthetic toxin brewed in the Titan Mountains? That was another story.

“Poison? Hah, not really my style,” Nekator said.

He tensed his arm, and the needles embedded in his flesh popped out, a few drops of blackened blood trailing after them. The dark color of his blood proved that he was indeed poisoned, but his reaction was not what Karen expected.

In disbelief, she muttered, “That poison could kill an ogre in ten seconds. And that’s all it does to you?”

“Oh, it’s that strong, huh? I do feel a bit dizzy, I’ll give you that,” Nekator laughed, mocking her effort even as he assessed the poison now coursing through his veins.

Only El-Cid saw through the truth.

—His Aura of Destruction erased the toxins in his body. The fact that it even had an effect at all is impressive. Even if you stabbed the poison into his bone marrow, he’d purge it in under three seconds.

His attribute takes care of everything for him? How much more unfair is this going to get?

—He’s a singularity, just like your Sun Aura.

Even during their conversation, Leon never stopped swinging. A monster like Nekator could reverse the flow of battle in a single breath; to win, they had to suffocate him—crush him under relentless, methodical pressure until he had no room to act.

At this pace, Leon estimated they could finish it in three hours—an hour if the forces attacking the outer walls joined in.

“Ah, this is boring. I don’t want to die like this.”

Then, suddenly, Nekator did something none of them expected.

Four Masters had surrounded him completely. Wave after wave of attacks left him no time, no space, not even a heartbeat to raise his output. Even if he used the Destruction Technique with the little power he could muster up, Leon could still nullify it.

It was a formation impossible to break unless one was willing to pay a price. And that’s exactly what Nekator did. A sound of flesh cutting rang out.

“What?!”

Leon severed Nekator’s left arm. However, after doing so, he was taken aback. For a fighter—especially one who specialized in close combat—losing an arm was losing nearly half one’s strength. Instead of escaping, Nekator had seemingly crippled himself.

Yet that single, shocking act bought him the time he needed to reset the field.

“Hah, that stings! Haven’t been hurt this bad since Lark beat me like a dog.”

Completely unfazed by the loss, Nekator stared at the stump of his arm and grinned. The innocent smile only made the unease worse.

Humans fear the unknown and the incomprehensible. And Leon’s group felt that fear now, seeing the sheer abnormality before them.

“Four against one really isn’t fair,” Nekator said cheerfully. “Win or lose, this is getting dull. So I’ll call a friend. It’s only fair, right?”

No one noticed the pattern his blood had drawn on the ground. A moment later, darkness erupted upward, wrapping around Nekator.

“That’s...!”

It screamed danger. The Stigma of the Observer burned hot on Leon’s skin.

The darkness carried a divine pressure, the same kind of presence as the true Apophis. What it would do to Nekator, no one could guess.

Leon almost swung his Holy Sword to cut it apart, but El-Cid stopped him.

—Don’t.

Why? If I leave it, it’ll just get worse.

—That darkness is a fragment—an avatar—of an exogod summoned through the human sacrifices. Left alone, it’ll grant its host’s request and depart. But if you strike it, it might see you as an enemy instead. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The Evil Order worshiped the exogods, but those gods did not care for their followers. They merely consumed the offerings and cast down scraps of excess power.

However, if one of those ants dared to bite the god’s finger, and hard enough to draw blood? The god might swat the world itself in retaliation.

—The risk is too great. Besides... He’s already done.

The darkness cloaking Nekator began to fade, slowly peeling away. Even the Stigma of the Observer couldn’t pierce it, but now, the sight within was clear. The power of an exogod had twisted him into something wholly different from before.

Nekator, feeling the contours of his changed body, murmured softly, “It feels stranger than I expected. They could’ve just given me my arm back, but this is a welcome surprise.”

Leon answered with feigned calm and biting sarcasm, “Why don’t you go return it? I’ll wait.”

“Haha! Hard to do that when I threw in my afterlife as part of the deal! Exogods don’t take back what they’ve eaten!”

“What kind of a person has six arms? What are you, a beetle?” Leon muttered.

The exogod hadn’t merely restored Nekator’s severed limb—it had given him two extra pairs of arms, one sprouting from each shoulder and one from his sides.

Those arms pulsed with a writhing darkness, exuding a suffocating malevolence. Even at a glance, they were anything but natural.

—Six arms...? Must’ve come from an Asura. If the exogod grafted Asura limbs onto him, it must’ve liked him quite a bit.

Do you know what those arms can do? Leon asked.

—Not really an ability so much as—

Before El-Cid could finish, Nekator stepped forward to test them. And then, with a thunderous crash, a fist shot out faster than sight, the shockwave following a heartbeat later.

Leon reflexively raised his sword to meet it.

“Heavenly Core, First Form: Dubhe.”

Golden swordlight cleaved the shockwave clean in half before it dissipated, and yet Leon’s expression didn’t brighten in the slightest.

It couldn’t.

—The Asura race’s arms have one trait: strength. One punch can crumble a mountain. Their grip can crush space itself. They’re transcendents—living weapons.

That strike just now hadn’t even been aimed; Nekator had simply swung into empty air. He hadn’t used the Destruction Technique. He hadn’t even drawn on Aura.

The raw destructive power of those arms alone had neutralized a strike from the Grand Chariot. If that was the result of a single swing... what would happen if he unleashed all five Asura Arms at once?

This is dangerous...

Cold sweat dampened Leon’s brow. He alone among them could read the true nature of Nekator’s newfound power. The others, still shaken from the previous shockwave, didn’t yet grasp that what they’d seen was only a fragment of his strength.

With those Asura arms granted by an exogod, Nekator’s offensive power might rival even Kasim’s.

Flexing all five new arms, Nekator looked back at them, saying, “Shame the feeling’s gone a bit dull, but you’ll hold up for a while, won’t you?”

His presence expanded, crushing the air itself beneath its weight. Even the battle-hardened Cardinals blanched at the pressure of the enemy who had become far beyond what he’d been mere minutes ago.

This was a monster bordering on the realm of Grandmaster.

Leon released a thread of Aura and whispered toward Karen, —Karen, get into my shadow.

Nekator rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck.

“I don’t even know how strong I am right now,” he said lightly. “So try not to die in one hit. I made this pact to enjoy myself—if it ends too fast, I’ll feel cheated.”

Then, with a chilling smile, he finished, “So struggle. To the very end.”

The Asura Arms answered their master’s will and swelled, the sight like a cluster of hot-air balloons inflating—muscles rippling with terrifying elasticity and power.

“Destruction Technique, Third Form: Fivefold Annihilation Blows.”

Nekator’s fists struck the air five times in a blur, and darkness that devoured light erupted outward. An attack that should have been a single blow was unleashed five times near-simultaneously.

For a human body—even one of an Aura Master—the recoil alone would have torn it apart, but the Asura arms absorbed it, reducing the strain to nothing more than sore muscles. It was no wonder they were called transcendents.

Dammit!

Even as he gaped at the sheer force, Leon raised his power to its limit. Amplified by the Asura arms, Nekator’s output had quintupled, and that was enough to obliterate any Aura Master who was caught unprepared.

“Grand Chariot.”

Facing the maelstrom of darkness, Leon’s golden sword flared to life once more.