Tiamat’s detection abilities surpassed those of humans.
No matter which human was brought forth, none could match Tiamat’s detection ability, and even Phey the elf fell slightly behind in terms of pure detection.
The core of this intense detection ability lay in the sensory organs.
The visual aspect was almost nonexistent.
Nevertheless, when confronted with an extremely intense visual stimulus, even Tiamat couldn’t help but be drawn to it.
―KWAANG!
An abrupt explosion. The deafening roar and flames that erupted just as the battle seemed to be winding down captured the attention of everyone on the fortress.
“What, what is that?”
“Suddenly, what’s happening….”
Confused soldiers looked on in bewilderment, joined by a few wizards who also expressed their doubts. The sergeants and officers too wore perplexed expressions as they stared at the explosion.
Something was happening.
As confusion spread across the battlefield, consuming the surroundings, the soldiers atop the walls realized something had gone wrong.
Among them, the first to sense the change was Tiamat.
In the place where the powerful explosion had subsided, a shadowy figure was rising from a distant location.
From that being emanated an overwhelming power.
Tiamat could feel this strength through her skin and was astonished.
It was a force similar to what she had felt during her fight with Ash, the Herald of the Veil—an overwhelming power. That presence was so intense that no amount of arrows would make one feel capable of taking it down.
And now, it stood right in the middle of the battlefield.
Amidst the intense explosion, it remained.
Though it was faintly visible, Tiamat could feel its immense power through her skin.
Just as Tiamat stiffened while sensing this presence, one of the soldiers suddenly muttered:
“Uh, that sword… .”
The soldier was a Varmanz archer with excellent eyesight, someone who had served for a long period as a bowmaster in the Silence Tribe.
Through his sharp vision, he recognized the sword—a blade exuding an overwhelming aura held by that being. It was special.
A blade resembling fire, a greatsword glowing with a burning light, three meters in length—it was a weapon symbolic of the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
The favored weapon of War and Knowledge: Victory.
The wielder of this sword could only be one of two individuals.
An unparalleled hero who had felled the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Or the Supreme Divinity’s Sword itself.
To Tiamat, this entity didn’t resemble an unparalleled hero.
When the explosion cleared and the actions of this entity became visible,
it was indiscriminate slaughter.
Every swing tore through soldiers, cutting them apart, and even from a distance, the ground was clearly stained red.
Like a masterful painter creating art, the ground gradually turned crimson.
Few resisted. Amidst the rapid deaths where not even a single exchange could be endured, only fewer than ten warriors managed to hold their ground.
None of Tiamat’s comrades, the veterans, were in sight.
Given the situation, their absence spoke volumes.
Tiamat clenched her teeth and grabbed a handful of arrows from beside the cannon, stuffing them into her quiver.
“At a time like this, why does something like this appear?!”
Her face contorted with anger and frustration as she slid down the wall. When Anna, who she encountered along the way, asked what was going on, there was no time to answer.
Truthfully, there wasn’t much to say anyway. Even Tiamat didn’t know much.
What was certain was that if things continued this way, total annihilation was inevitable.
*
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword swung Victory.
Soldiers caught in its path or swept up by it couldn’t withstand the force and were torn apart, splattering guts and flesh everywhere. With each such occurrence, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword turned crimson and surged toward the next prey.
“Huuuuh!”
Frida stepped forward to confront it.
Even for a veteran, this blow was no easy feat to block. A lifetime of honed strength was poured into the diagonal upward slash of the axe, a move that could lock down the enemy with five consecutive combinations upon impact.
A speed no ordinary human could react to, enhanced by magical tattoos etched onto her body—yet the Supreme Divinity’s Sword effortlessly deflected it.
Creeeeek!
The grating sound of the axe breaking apart upon collision. Frida gritted her teeth and rolled her artificial eye, inscribed with magical tattoos, over the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
A slight shift in the waist, a change in center of gravity, a kick—an upward thrust. Though Frida anticipated the movement and immediately twisted her body—
KWAOOO!
The gap left by Frida’s evasion was filled by a powerful kick that created a gale, leaving her unable to move. Helplessly rolling along the ground, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword charged towards Frida.
Approaching Frida, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword raised its massive blade high. Just before delivering the strike, it twisted its torso and instead swung behind it.
KWADDDDEEK!
Barreting forward was a beast. A bear infected by a werewolf.
A tragic mutant and Frida’s bodyguard.
A creature marked with magical tattoos and trained extensively to always stay close to Frida.
A beast that had killed countless knights of the Calus Empire in battle and was known as a knight hunter on the battlefield.
This beast was split in half with a single blow.
Leaving behind scattered innards and brains, and a distorted face writhing in terrible pain, the beast, Frida seized the opening and swung her axe.
Now was not the time to mourn loss. Thinking so,
the second effort. A genuine upward slash. But it didn’t reach. The Supreme Divinity’s Sword blocked Frida’s attack with a mere slap from the side.
Clang, an unsteady stance. As Frida stumbled, a punch came rushing towards her. As the crimson sensation accelerated, a fist-shaped imprint formed on Frida’s abdomen, sending her flying back.
“Kehk…!”
Blood gushed from her mouth. Damaged internal organs caused internal bleeding. Frida’s body collided repeatedly with the ground until it finally stopped.
As the glow of the magical tattoos faded and her body trembled slightly, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword resumed its slaughter.
HUUUUNG!
The sound of wind slicing through the air. The displaced air exploded outward, causing the Baraumz warriors rushing to protect their lord to be effortlessly cut apart and tumble across the ground.
The blood of scattered soldiers and warriors soaked the ground, making it slick. As the Supreme Divinity’s Sword moved forward without a drop of blood touching it, it dispersed in all directions.
Between the scattering and the piercing sounds, what blocked the Supreme Divinity’s Sword rushing towards Frida was Bahort Head.
A skilled and seasoned warrior among the elves raised his shield to intercept the blow meant to pierce through it.
As the shield intercepted the direct thrust of Victory and twisted, it was shredded into pieces.
The shield, torn apart like pulp, tumbled away, and Bahort Head clashed with it, rolling across the ground. Barely stopping, the elf scooped up Frida and shouted urgently.
“Now!”
The words spoken. Comprehending their meaning, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword reacted instantly. Simultaneous attacks flew from two locations.
Long-range arrows the size of daggers and countless Sowbrains flew through the air.
It was Anton’s last-ditch assault and Tiamat’s continuous sniper fire from atop the fortress walls joining forces.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword deflected the more threatening of Tiamat’s arrows with a flick of its blade. As the arrow easily bounced off and rolled on the ground, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword kicked up the fallen axe and gripped it, hesitating momentarily.
‘Flip Shadow.’
At that moment, the shadow beneath its feet disappeared. Instantaneously, two trajectories surged forward. The axe swung, shattering into fragments, and all the incoming Sowbrains were pushed aside.
An ambush that appeared to have failed. However, the result was different. The scattered Sowbrains paused mid-air and began glowing purple.
“INCENDENT.”
With the old man muttering these words, a backlash occurred. Technically fired Sowbrains unleashed a barrage of backlash from all directions, pinning down the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, albeit for just a brief moment.
As the Supreme Divinity’s Sword tilted its blade amidst the storm of backlash, muscles twitched within the carapace signaling the collapse of the magic. Anton frowned.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword couldn’t be restrained for long. Before Tiamat, the elf, could take another shot, it would break free.
Due to its overwhelming strength and divinity, the magic dissipated before it could fully take effect.
Facing it head-on offered little chance of victory.
Considering its current explosive capabilities, judging by appearances alone, this form seemed to derive its strength by burning its own life force.
Thus, resisting directly was incorrect.
Rather, letting soldiers and allies sacrifice themselves to buy time while escaping and waiting for its life force to deplete was the sensible choice.
That’s how Anton had operated until now. Always prioritizing his own sustainability for revenge.
Even now, based on sustainability, escaping was the right decision.
And so, he hesitated.
Wouldn’t it be better to retreat now?
Waiting for its life force to deplete offered a higher chance of revenge.
Even if the hypothesis proved wrong, with no immediate prospects of victory, retreating seemed like the right choice.
However…
‘…I can’t do that, can I?’
In the corner of Anton’s vision was Lumel. The woman who had lost consciousness after getting caught in the explosion.
‘I knew she wasn’t my daughter.’
Initially, he had mistaken her for his daughter, but the illusion didn’t last long.
Because their eye color, hair color, and build were different.
Most importantly, because his daughter had died right before his eyes.
It was merely senility-induced confusion, something that happened often.
Even if Lumel had explained she wasn’t his daughter, it wouldn’t have mattered.
If the goal was to avenge himself against the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, Anton would have joined without hesitation, and he would have been kind to Lumel, whether or not she resembled his daughter.
But Lumel hadn’t done that.
Whether out of kindness or foolishness, Lumel hadn’t corrected Anton’s mistake.
Had there been ulterior motives, Anton might have been annoyed, but the emotions Lumel harbored were clear compassion and empathy.
If Anton retreated now, Lumel would die.
Likely, many others would die as well.
Perhaps Anton might survive, but he’d lose everything again.
And Anton realized,
Even if he retreated here and vowed revenge,
Anton would never accomplish it.
There would be nothing left for Anton.
Having abandoned humanity, eighty percent of his body was no longer human.
After repeated magical modifications, his self-identity blurred, and he frequently lost his sanity.
Gradually, Anton was ceasing to be Anton.
Anton realized,
If he couldn’t defeat the Supreme Divinity’s Sword here and now,
There would be no further opportunity for revenge.
“Damn it.”
The self-deprecating old man raised his flintlock. The circular magazine exposed. He swapped it with a new one pulled from inside his coat and chambered a round with a metallic click as he closed the gun. Anton extended his hand.
He formed a hand sign. One that could be done with a single hand.
At that moment, he felt the flow of souls entering his body from the pet cat—and soul repository—left behind in the fortress.
Absorbing the stored life and souls into his body, he immediately converted the soul into mana. As the mana flowed explosively within him, Anton thought.
Here and now, the only one who could possibly restrain this thing, even for a moment, was himself.
Crack, crack.
As fissures spread across the surface of the repulsion magic, the moment it finally shattered,
Anton aimed his flintlock.
“Body Activation.”
Following the murmured incantation, Anton’s figure momentarily blurred.
KWAANG!
With a roar, the two figures vanished. A crimson trajectory surged forward. Watching the sword strike aimed to split his body in half, Anton knelt on one knee and pulled the trigger.
The sword strike, grazing the fire, plunged into the ground. Dust billowed up, and clumps of dirt fell with a thud. Amidst this, Anton, kneeling on one knee, unleashed a barrage of Sowbrains at the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
TUTUTUTUTUT!
A cascade of projectiles. The rapidly approaching Sowbrains struck the myth killer in countless transformations.
They exploded, ignited, expanded, and scattered shrapnel. All these processes were instantaneous. It was achieved through an overwhelming amount of mana bypassing normal procedures.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword broke through all these attacks head-on. Despite being swept away, it swung Victory and picked up weapons from the ground to deflect and slice through them.
They exchanged blows three times in the blink of an eye.
Anticipating the downward strike, Anton activated a repulsion from a pre-placed Sowbrain embedded in the ground, dodging. He then deflected the following thrust with his left hand.
Though his left hand shattered from the recoil, he immediately regenerated and equalized it, filling the void with a hastily reassembled arm.
Subsequently, he countered the neck-targeting strike by enlarging a Sowbrain fired on the spot.
And as Anton retreated, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword swung a mace taken from a fallen soldier.
Splitting into two trajectories upon swinging. Vanishing shadows. Unavoidable consecutive strikes.
KWAZIZZIK!
His flintlock and left leg shattered and scattered, and Anton was cut again in the blink of an eye.
The severed waist. The split torso sent Anton tumbling away, and using Equalization once more as he rolled across the ground,
Two regrown legs. Using those legs to push off the ground, Anton drew two handheld flintlocks from his wrists and fired.
TUTUTUTUNG!
One aimed at the charging Supreme Divinity’s Sword, the other at his own feet.
Without needing any incantation, the flintlocks glowed purple with mana.
BOOM!
Anton’s figure flickered and disappeared again. It was a repulsion. While being pushed back, Anton quickly regenerated his severed ankles and wrists within that brief interval.
The regrown wrists, though deformed with eight fingers, were of no concern.
The distance between Anton and the Supreme Divinity’s Sword was about fifty meters. Although it was far for an instant repulsion, considering the speed demonstrated by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, it was an alarmingly short distance.
However, Anton did not give up. Firing the handheld flintlocks spasmodically, he cast a spell with his deformed hand.
The most potent evocation magic currently available to him.
The thunder that gathered slowly condensed, emitting a deafening roar as the approaching Supreme Divinity’s Sword accelerated even further, lowering its stance.
—!
All sound disappeared at the end. What followed was a thrust. Just before the thrust was launched, Anton extended his hand.
“Thunder Smash!”
KWARRRRRONG!
The thunder dragged down to the ground. The condensed noise transformed into destruction surging forward, tearing off a few plates of the myth killer’s carapace and scattering blood.
Anton watched this scene and chuckled bitterly.
Even the top-tier evocation magic, considered the most powerful, could only achieve this much.
Tiamat’s sniping towards the charging Supreme Divinity’s Sword, Anna’s magic that had caught up somehow, and the inaccurate cannon fire from the fortress all flew towards it but proved futile.
For the moment the Supreme Divinity’s Sword grasped the halberd held by a dead soldier, divine-level skill unfolded from its body.
‘Mooncutting.’
KUUUUUNG!
Massive shards of ice burst outward, deflecting the sniping, and beyond Anton’s bitter laughter, the incoming sword strike surged forward.
KWADDDDEEK!
A fatal thrust precisely targeting Anton’s heart and spine.
Blood gushed copiously from his mouth, and his body stiffened. Both the spine and heart were hit simultaneously. His body wouldn’t move. There wasn’t enough breath left to perform Equalization.
Just before being bisected and having his brain crushed, Anton perceived the series of changes occurring within his abdomen and twisted his lips.
If only one line of incantation remained possible, then the spell Anton had to chant was only one.
Just as the Victory wielded by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword carved through his vertebrae and reached the cervical spine, Anton’s mouth opened.
“INCENDENT.”
