A technique that should have exhausted its user after a single release erupted sixfold in an instant. The Six Realms Annihilation was destruction incarnate.

A storm of force crashed forward, strong enough to crush not just the heavens but the very fabric of space itself. There was no sound, no tremor. True destruction consumed even vibration, leaving only an unnatural stillness in its wake.

It was absolute, pure obliteration. All creation returned to nothing. Everything within the trajectory of the Six Realms Annihilation vanished in an instant.

Not even Four Stars of Vast Heavens could stop this, Leon thought.

Even with the advantage of having holiness against exolaw, when the gap in power was this immense, it didn’t matter. Weakened as Nekator was by two high-tier sacred spells, that force still reached a level that even Kasim would have to face with death in mind.

Leon realized this and took a step back. He had never intended to block the attack head-on in the first place. Before him stood a man who would face a power Leon himself could barely endure.

“Your Eminence! Are you sure about this?” he asked Dominic, his voice trembling.

Dominic smiled softly and replied, “Please, leave it to me, Hero. By the grace of the Goddess, I shall prove that this life will not yield to adversity.”

Leon saw the familiar resolve in his eyes. Because of that, he couldn’t bring himself to say don’t die. He could only nod once, unsure what more to say, before leaping away with Karen into the shadows.

Now, only the two Cardinals remained.

Anna quipped, half-laughing, “If you fail, I die too, you know? So do well.”

“You call that encouragement?” Dominic replied. “You’re only making this heavier for me.”

Instead of answering, Anna laughed aloud. It was the kind of laugh that made his shoulders loosen for just a moment.

“It’s a joke,” she said. “You’re the type who grows stronger the more weight you carry. I don’t know if my little life will help much, but go on—try carrying it.”

“The hero’s burden wasn’t enough, and now yours? This is getting too heavy.”

“So? Think you can’t handle it?”

“Of course, I can.” Dominic’s eyes flared gold. “Lay it all on me!”

The Stigma carved across his back blazed with light. Among the Holy Iron Inquisitors, there were many who bore Stigmata, but few could wield them as Leon did. For most, it was a hidden trump card, used only in desperate battles against the Evil Order, and Dominic’s was no different.

The Stigma of the Penitent. It was a blessing so grueling that even its name spoke of suffering.

“Come to me, misfortune! Come to me, pain! O wounds that pierce the souls of the innocent—come, all of you! For I am the fool who walks the thorned path, unafraid of agony or despair!”

The high-tier sacred spell Sacrifice flared to life, amplifying the Stigma of the Penitent beyond its limits.

It was a power that could only be used for the sake of others. The more one bore on their shoulders, the heavier the weight, the stronger they became—flesh and spirit hardened into defiance itself, impervious to all hardship.

“‘O Goddess, bear witness! Even in the blackest heart of night, I shall not lose my way but lead the lost flock toward Your light!’”

Dominic’s Aura Blade—once merely a wall—was transformed into an impregnable fortress through the Stigma and sacred spell.

Among the ten Cardinals, Dominic would certainly rank in the bottom three. Yet if one were asked whether they could defeat him when he fought in earnest, even Irexana would have to admit the truth with a grim shake of the head.

“Original Sacred Spell: Sacris Moenia.”

The armor of Elahan was modeled after this very spell, and even hers had been an improved imitation. The original was beyond extraordinary.

Dominic spread his arms wide and stood firm. From behind him rose a golden wall, dozens of meters high. If the Six Realms Annihilation was a tidal wave, then this was the breakwater that stood against it.

The golden wall met the onrushing darkness head-on. For the first time, the Six Realms Annihilation—silent until now—let out a deafening roar as it scraped against the barrier.

Cracks spidered across the radiant wall, thin at first, then thickening. Even the barrier that Irexana claimed could not be broken splintered within seconds.

“Ghh... khhh...”

And yet it did not fall. It stood cracked and trembling, just as Dominic did—blood streaming from his eyes, nose, and mouth, yet not a single blink, not one step back.

“Gh... grh... khhhhhh!”

His clenched teeth shattered, nerves screaming with pain. His organs compressed under the pressure, his vision flared white, but he did not yield. Not once did he waver. Even within the torrent of destruction, the golden wall held, fragile yet unbroken to the last, showing the very embodiment and pinnacle of human endurance.

“Can’t break through that one, I guess,” Nekator muttered, watching the single-use absolute defense with a detached sigh.

After deploying that much power, the man would destroy himself anyway. There was no need to waste more effort breaking through.

“Now, where did the others go?” he muttered as his eyes flashed crimson.

Before Six Realms Annihilation struck, Leon and Karen’s presence had vanished. They were surely waiting for this exact moment—to strike right after the attack. It was the only chance they had.

As long as Nekator’s Asura body continued to draw strength from the otherworldly being, any prolonged fight would favor him.

Not that I care for dragging things out, Nekator thought.

He knew that his enemies could not afford to waste such a chance. Trusting that instinct, Nekator spread his senses wide, searching every direction for Leon. The black tide still raged around him, but he read the battlefield as clearly as the palm of his hand.

There were two Cardinals clinging to life behind the Sacris Moenia. And then—

“Found you.”

A flicker of light appeared within his perception. Even in the heart of the darkness he had summoned, the light of the miniature sun blazed.

A chilling smile crept across Nekator’s face. After all they’d exchanged, he could never fail to recognize it. That light was the only thing capable of shattering his boredom, and perhaps, of ending his wretched life.

“Come on, let’s make this fun aga—huh...?”

When the darkness of the Six Realms Annihilation finally cleared, Leon was nowhere to be seen. Instead, standing in his place was Karen—a crimson cloak blazing like a banner under the light, a confident grin curling on her lips. She met Nekator’s blank stare and let out a small, taunting laugh.

“Gotcha,” she sneered.

A sharp hum rang out. From Nekator’s own shadow, Leon burst forth, the cloak now gone.

Karen had transferred him with Pitch-Black Dance.

The two had seen three moves ahead. Karen had covered Leon’s retreat, closed the gap, and caught Nekator off guard. Under normal circumstances, the fight would have ended right there.

But neither Leon nor Nekator was considered anything near “normal.”

“Did you forget I’ve got six arms now?!”

The Asura Arms reacted instantly to Leon’s approach. What should have been a fatal blow was deflected by one arm. The downward slash that should have split Nekator’s skull was caught and stopped, slicing through a single forearm instead. No blood spilled; the limb simply vanished, as if it had never existed.

Still four of those exolaw arms left... Leon thought.

Using the moment to regain his balance, Nekator shouted, “My turn!”

He turned on Leon, raising his four remaining Asura Arms. Losing one meant he couldn’t unleash the Six Realms Annihilation again, but whether it was five strikes or six, the destructive force would be the same.

Just as his energy began to surge once more, another voice came.

“‘As leaves drifting down a river come to rest upon a still lake, as a wanderer’s steps linger beneath the shade... even the murkiest waters must someday find calm.’”

It came from behind him. Anna stood there, staff extended.

Nekator, perhaps for the first time in this battle, seemed genuinely taken aback.

“What?! How?!”

Like Leon, she had traveled through Karen’s shadow using Pitch-Black Dance, and without hesitation, she invoked her strongest sacred spell.

“High-tier Sacred Spell: Serenity.”

It was a pacifying spell that quelled the will to fight and subdued power itself. Against ordinary beings, it merely brought calm, but when used on an otherworldly entity, it instantly suppressed their power. If only it weren’t for its limitation in range, Anna would have used it a while ago.

Darkness that had been raging like a storm around Nekator’s body faltered, momentarily ebbing away. The effect would last only seconds, but seconds were all Leon needed.

He raised the Holy Sword, gathering every ounce of his strength.

“Sun Sword, Crimson Lotus, Second Form.”

Flare blazed to life along the blade, burning brighter than ever. Nekator tried to react, forcing his sluggish arms into motion. Though his aura and physical strength had been subdued by Serenity, the Asura Arms were another matter. Their monstrous resilience, capable of shattering stone and crushing space, remained untouched.

I won’t get a second strike. I have to cut all four with this attack.

The spell’s duration was running out. There would be only one chance.

Neither the Grand Chariot nor the Sun Sword alone will do. I’ll have to merge both—like I did against the Fivefold Annihilation Blows—to break through those arms.

However, even just Three Stars in Heaven’s Jar had left him exhausted. Was it even possible to combine its upgrade, Four Stars of Vast Heavens, with Flare?

That bordered on madness. Less than a ten percent chance of success, if he were lucky.

Leon and El-Cid’s thoughts overlapped.

Good enough.

—That’s plenty.

That was all it took. No one challenges a stronger foe expecting even odds.

“Grand Chariot.”

Pouring Flare into the blade, Leon redirected every drop of his surging Aura into the sword itself. A single mistake, and he would burn himself alive.

The fear of death crept down his spine. Every hair on his body stood on end, every nerve sharpened until he could feel even the air brush across his skin.

Focus.

Focus.

A single breath out of rhythm, and his heart would burst.

“Haa.”

His vision bled into black and white again, but he didn’t notice. He was too deep in the flow, his senses fully attuned to the movement of energy through his body and the Holy Sword.

There was no need to overthink. At the apex of Four Stars of Vast Heavens, all he had to do was place the Flare atop its point. That was all.

—Leon, you...?

El-Cid’s alarmed voice echoed in his mind, but Leon was already beyond hearing, all awareness consumed by focus.

Without so much as a twitch of his brow, he moved his wrist. The Holy Sword—imbued with immense power—flowed weightlessly, light as a feather, supple as a reed swaying in the wind.

He stepped forward, his motion so natural it was as if his body moved on its own.

“Chained Secret Technique: Four Stars of Vast Heavens.”

A radiant spear of light burst from his blade, piercing through the four Asura Arms and driving straight through Nekator’s chest.

His heart, black as pitch, was impaled upon the Holy Sword. The flesh around it convulsed violently.

“Guh...!”

Nekator coughed blood from the mortal wound.