Clang! Clang! Boom!
Sparks danced like dying stars as Gilbert's blade deflected my strike. The shock rattled through my arm, forcing me back just enough for another knight to seize the opening. The gauntlet knight—massive fists like iron anvils wrapped in steel—charged straight at me. His punch cracked against my helmet, making my vision swim.
The impact drove me a step backward, but momentum is a weapon. I twisted with the blow, letting its force coil into my muscles, and then unleashed it in a savage counter. My blade roared through the air, the arc of it glowing like molten light, and slammed into him with a bone-rattling impact.
The knight was sent flying.
Hundreds of meters.
His armored body tore through boulders, gouging the ground until the earth itself split in his wake.
But there was no time to admire it.
Gilbert pressed forward. His sword, longer than most men were tall, sang as it cleaved through the air. The battlefield quaked beneath our duel, each clash a thunderclap that echoed across the wasteland. Dust storms erupted around us. Jagged craters pockmarked the ground. What once was a verdant field had been reduced to a barren graveyard of shattered stone.
This was no longer just a fight. It was an apocalypse in miniature.
I exhaled, chest heaving. Across from me, Gilbert's men formed a line—bloodied but unbroken. They stood together, scarred and panting, yet refusing to falter. Their armor was dented, their bodies trembling, but the fire in their eyes burned brighter than ever.
A silent pact passed between us.
No more holding back.
"ROARRR!!!"
My roar split the sky, the sound shaking mountains. Thunder rolled in answer, as if the heavens themselves feared to be left out. The knights braced themselves against the sonic blast, their capes whipping violently behind them.
Gilbert smirked through the chaos.
"Good… Very good, beast." His voice boomed with savage delight. "Now—now we take you seriously!"
The ground fractured beneath their feet as a surge of power erupted from them. Auras blazed like wildfires, colors bleeding into one another—crimson, gold, azure—until the air itself seemed aflame. The sheer weight of their energy pressed against me, making the battlefield tremble as though it could no longer contain us.
Their power had multiplied. No… more than multiplied. It had evolved, sharpened, and refined itself into something monstrous.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
This was the real fight.
I steadied my guard, instincts honed by endless deaths and resurrections. Training, pain, trial—each failure had carved lessons into my bones. My body remembered every death. My mind remembered every mistake. Now, facing these warriors at their peak, I welcomed it all.
Gilbert vanished.
No—too fast. His movements blurred, sharper and more erratic than before. His sword nearly pierced my guard, only for me to parry by instinct alone. Sparks sprayed into the night sky.
Clang!
The gauntlet knight reappeared, fist aimed for my ribs. I twisted, letting the blow graze me, but even a graze from him left cracks webbing across my armor. The sheer force of his strikes could reduce mountains to rubble.
Another knight lunged with a spear, faster than lightning. My foot stomped the ground, breaking the earth, and I pivoted just in time. The spear carved past my cheek, cutting a streak of blood beneath my helmet.
For the first time in a long while… I smiled.
(A.N: Their power right now? Large Star Level. But imagine that times five. Yeah—this is where we're at.)
The battlefield became a maelstrom of violence. Shockwaves split the sky. Explosions tore through the land. Each impact unleashed ripples that cracked like thunderbolts, scattering debris in all directions.
There was no hunger. No thirst. No rest. Only the will to fight.
(Though, thanks to Divine Famine, hunger and thirst don't touch me anyway. Can't say the same for them.)
Our clash was relentless.
Steel against steel. Fist against blade. Aura against aura.
I lunged, unleashing a storm of wind that howled like banshees. Trees were uprooted. Boulders shattered. I followed the gust with a barrage of stones, raining them down like meteors.
Gilbert's sword gleamed—shhhk! He cleaved a boulder in half, dust spraying like fireworks.
And that was the trap.
The instant his focus faltered, I surged forward and slammed my strike into him. The shockwave hurled him through the sky, a streak of silver vanishing into the clouds.
"Bastard!" the gauntlet knight bellowed. His aura flared, incandescent, and he launched himself at me with blinding fury.
I stomped the ground, splitting it wide. A shockwave erupted outward, throwing the knights off balance. Another stomp, and a gust of wind hurled them apart like dolls.
But Gilbert was already back. Midair, he caught his comrades one by one, cradling them with the precision of a commander who refused to let his men fall. He descended gracefully, sword planted firmly in the dirt, and met my gaze.
Impressive.
I couldn't help but smirk beneath my helmet.
"Not bad," I muttered.
Gilbert's eyes gleamed—not with rage, but with exhilaration. His chest rose and fell, yet the corners of his mouth tugged upward in a grin I knew well.
The thrill of battle.
The fire of warriors who lived for this very moment.
Even after dying countless times in this trial, clawing my way back again and again, this feeling… this feeling made it worth it. The fire, the clash, the struggle—it was why I endured.
And then, something unthinkable happened.
I stopped.
The dust settled. The battlefield stilled.
And instead of pressing the advantage, I lowered my blade.
The knights stared in disbelief. They expected ruthlessness, the killing blow, the finish. But to strike them when they could no longer stand? That wasn't me.
Even in the real world—where hesitation meant death—I chose this.
Honor.
They slumped down, exhausted. Some tore off helmets to breathe easier, others collapsed onto rocks, armor clattering. Their hands shook as they pulled out flasks and bread, the weariness etched into their faces.
I let them.
For the first time, I saw them as more than enemies. Their laughter broke the silence—rough, tired, but real. They reminisced about past wars, scars they earned, victories and losses. They teased one another, spoke of families, of comrades long gone.
It was… peaceful.
For a moment, I forgot this was a battlefield.
Honor and Memories.
I sat quietly, letting their words wash over me. These weren't faceless foes. Not NPCs. Not obstacles. Men. Warriors bound together by brotherhood, laughter, and blood.
And for that, I respected them.
Hours passed. Then Gilbert stood, rolling his shoulders, his expression resolute once more.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, beast," he said with a smirk. "Now we're ready."
The system's voice echoed in my mind.
Ding!
{Enemy power levels have increased tenfold. Scaling power: Solar System Level → Multi-Solar System Level (Half Cosmic Strength).}
I didn't flinch. Not anymore.
Because I had something, too.
The combined technique of the Martial God and the Heavenly Demon.
Gilbert leveled his sword at me, his aura burning so bright it cracked the ground beneath him.
"Beast… let's end this in one move!"
I gripped my weapon tighter. My aura surged, a hurricane of violence wrapped in fire and shadow.
"Agreed."
We roared together.
Energy blazed. Space trembled. Time itself seemed to pause as we unleashed everything we had.
Our final attacks collided, a blinding explosion devouring the battlefield.
The world vanished in white light.
When it faded, silence reigned.
Gilbert's voice, weak, almost a whisper, broke it.
"Impossible…"
And one by one, they were blown away—consumed by the sheer weight of my final strike.
The battle was over.