The moment he bolted, several martial monks rushed toward Aslan.
The soldiers ran to intercept them, and while the soldiers bought time, a white light slipped through them and massacred the martial monks.
Scattered pieces of intestines and red, blue, and green blood.
Through the chaos, Aslan broke through and sprinted toward the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Soon, the gaze of the Myth Slayer also turned toward Aslan.
And upon confirming that the gaze was directed at him, Aslan stopped, extending his arms.
“Grasp.”
What he used was telekinesis. Feigning a throw of a Steamfalos feather imbued with purity, he stretched his telekinetic force far and wide.
The radius wasn’t vast. However, if extended to its maximum range, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword couldn’t help but be deceived into believing that the purity would maintain its course even after being thrown.
And that misconception was enough.
Even though it had left his hand, the luminous purity continued to fly, emitting a bright glow. Ignoring the spears piercing its body, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword swung its weapon in triumph.
At the moment the swing of triumph collided with the purity, the purity transformed into feathers and scattered. It was then that Aslan retrieved another purity.
Roar!
A defensive swing to check the enemy. The blade was deflected by the purity and redirected upward, swiftly slicing through the appendages.
Crushing the writhing centipede legs underfoot, Aslan turned his head following the sound of approaching footsteps.
It was Angie, who had pursued Aslan after seeing him bolt.
Aslan signaled to Angie and immediately took off running.
During the battle with Lewena, Aslan had realized something: By narrowing the radius of “Grasp” to his body and focusing on its movement, he could use it not only to move his body but also for mobility purposes.
Perhaps it could be used to alter descent during mid-air maneuvers. That was what was needed to face such a massive opponent.
Though Grasp lacked the power to lift himself, there existed an extraordinary force beyond reason.
Charging forward were Aslan and Angie. Upon seeing them, the creature let out a long roar, perhaps sensing their intent.
The roar, strained due to a torn vocal cord, caused the martial monks fighting the soldiers to withdraw, injured, and rush toward Aslan.
Desperate attempts to intercept. But blocking their path were Ereta and Lumel.
Swoosh!
Ereta’s axe severed the neck of the charging martial monk.
Bang!
Lumel’s spear pierced and hurled the attacker away.
Using the time granted by his companions, Aslan dashed forward.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword, whose physiology made retreat difficult, approached. Though it could turn its body to retreat, it chose to stand its ground, fearing the purity might be thrown.
Aslan relayed the plan to Angie while running, and with a cheerful smile, she snatched up a greatsword rolling on the ground.
“Aslan, now!”
At Angie’s cry as she plunged the sword diagonally into the ground, Aslan leapt onto it without hesitation.
Seeing Aslan aboard, Angie leaned back and hurled the sword.
“Khh… hryaa!”
A throw that, by the laws of physics, should have been impossible. Yet Angie’s strength transcended such laws, making it possible.
The acceleration was so powerful it seemed the ground itself was collapsing. Rising higher than the head of the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, Aslan plucked and scattered feathers from the Steamfalos.
Amidst the fluttering feathers, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword gazed upward at Aslan.
Its crimson eyes, filled with hatred and shock.
On top of the greatsword, Aslan leapt down and muttered.
“Grasp.”
Telekinetic force immediately enveloped his body. Though insufficient to levitate, it was enough to alter his descent or add acceleration.
Surrounded by telekinetic force, Aslan plummeted, holding purity in one hand.
His trajectory through the air weaved between the feathers—both those scattered earlier and newly cast.
In this gentle glide, Aslan descended toward the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Upon witnessing this, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword was deceived.
That the cape allowed movement between the feathers.
Unfamiliar with the predator’s equipment, the deception was natural and exactly what Aslan intended.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword made its choice within this deception—to sweep away the seemingly meaningless feathers with its sword.
—!
—–!
As the hammer and sword carved red and black arcs, the feathers yet to reach Aslan were swept away and fell to the ground.
Direct strikes were still out of reach, so this seemed to be aimed at anticipating Aslan’s fall or preparing for follow-up attacks.
‘Taken.’
It went exactly as Aslan planned.
Seeing how the Supreme Divinity’s Sword guarded against him more than the darts and magic, Aslan smirked.
Then he accelerated his body, enveloped by Grasp.
All the feathers having been knocked down, he plummeted straight down.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
A tremendous wind noise that felt like it was tearing through the brain. An acceleration that seemed to rip the eardrums.
Midway through the descent, Aslan altered his trajectory using Grasp, heading straight toward the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
After swinging once, there is a brief gap before swinging again. The Supreme Divinity’s Sword knew this well, and when it saw Aslan’s descent trajectory change in midair, it was startled.
Even if just a fraction of a second, Aslan, accelerated by both his fall and Grasp, moved faster than that fraction.
Diving Aslan. The Supreme Divinity’s Sword twisted its body, receiving the recoil through its waist, and swung its sword at Aslan.
Thrust. Aslan avoided the trajectory of the sword, using Grasp, and extended purity to interlock with the sword.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Mad white sparks wildly splashed around. Beyond them, the bewildered expression of the Supreme Divinity’s Sword came into view.
The scale of order embedded in the purity. Its effect: removal of resistance.
Even in midair, Aslan wouldn’t be pushed back.
Aslan fixed the astonished face in his mind and raised the purity.
Shouting unheard amidst the wind, he plunged the sword.
Roar!
Holding the sword of victory, the wrist pierced by the sword tip. After plunging, Aslan accelerated.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The direction was toward the ground. Following the falling trajectory, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword split from the wrist.
Red fluid sprayed everywhere, and the drawn purity dyed Aslan red.
Passing through the arm and re-entering near the ribcage, the purity sliced through ribs and internal organs. A 4-meter-long side was ripped open.
The flow of blood spilling from that side.
To avoid being swept away by the blood and the impending attack, Aslan pulled back the purity midway and flipped his body, accelerating.
He kicked off the Supreme Divinity’s Sword mid-acceleration and rebounded.
His leg was broken.
Both legs would break soon.
But it didn’t matter.
This strike would end it.
Drawing a breath, about 10 meters remained to the ground. The centipede’s body writhed in pain. On it, Aslan held the purity with both hands.
What needed to be done was simple: Aim the sword tip at the centipede and let gravity do the rest.
Maintaining direction with Grasp, a long streak of white light swept across the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
A downward slash from 30 meters high.
When the white light faded after the slash,
Zzzz!
The centipede’s head split in half.
Roar!
An immense amount of blood flowed out from the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
—–!
The dying scream. Struggling to express agony through the torn vocal cords. While gasping in pain and collapsing, Aslan, who had been impaled into the ground, rebounded.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of dirt flying up mixed with the sound of a massive body hitting the ground. Amidst these sounds, Aslan bounced off the ground.
Bang!
Compared to the Supreme Divinity’s Sword’s impact, it was a minor noise.
Yet, shortly after the noise, an abrupt silence spread across the battlefield until the dust settled.
When the dust cleared, they could see.
A man standing soaked in blood.
His broken legs were severe; bones protruded in various directions.
His entire body was sticky with someone else’s blood, and his two teal eyes flashed among the crimson.
The white light he gripped in his hand.
A chillingly burning light.
The meaning was clear.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword was dead, and the veteran survived.
“Aaah… Oh, Divine Being…!”
A voice filled with shock. The terror mingling among the warriors and martial monks triggered cheers from the soldiers.
“Aslan!”
While the soldiers’ weapons swung to deal with the remnants, the nearby group approached, leaving the martial monks behind.
Each person approached with different emotions. Among them, Angie’s cheerful expression was the closest.
Aslan looked at the approaching cheerful smile with satisfaction.
Suddenly, he felt a dull, heavy pain.
It was a familiar sensation.
Something he’d felt somewhere before.
After a brief thought, Aslan realized it was the same feeling he experienced when attacked by the Artist—a reaction of fate.
Not sharp, but a dull sensation. A sixth sense warning in rhythm with his pulsating heart.
Standing on his broken legs, holding the remaining untouched purity,
Aslan thought.
Something was wrong.
In the final moment, right before that last downward slash,
Aslan had risked breaking his legs because he believed the Supreme Divinity’s Sword would resist.
He thought it would attempt to flip its body to slice his lower section or strike him with its still intact mace.
But it didn’t.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword didn’t resist.
And Aslan didn’t think this was the kind of non-resistance that came from accepting death.
“…Where is the Victory?”
Moreover, something he expected to see was missing.
The Victory that Aslan should’ve knocked down first was nowhere to be seen.
Searching for the divine sword, all Aslan saw were cheering soldiers and approaching comrades.
Most were celebrating without any caution, clearly thinking the battle was over.
Recalling the scene, Aslan suddenly remembered:
Humans are most vulnerable right after victory.
Even if it appears to be a manufactured victory.
Aslan thought that if he were the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, he would take advantage of this moment.
And as soon as he thought that, fate reacted.
More vividly, burning hot.
As if directly behind him.
Following that sixth sense, Aslan turned his head.
And he saw.
A figure clad in crimson-soaked armor, roughly Aslan’s height and build.
A martial monk uniquely possessing only two arms and two legs.
In its hand, the Victory.
The flame-like blade tilted, and as the martial monk took stance, a message appeared in Aslan’s vision.
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Defeat the Supreme Divinity’s Sword]
The moment Aslan registered the message, the tilted blade surged forward.
