Ascalid held a battle axe in hand, facing off against the Puppet King.
As a KOK A-rank Alliance knight ranked fourth in the world, Ascalid was a powerhouse at the level of a Demon.
Her ability, [Indomitable], allowed her to defend against any attack as long as her will held firm—and to grow stronger through "regenerative reinforcement."
Against such a troublesome opponent, it was no surprise the Puppet King was in a sorry state.
Yet even in such straits, his face remained relaxed. It was exactly that expression that made Ascalid's aura waver.
Just as she raised her axe to strike again, Charles placed a hand on her shoulder.
He gave her a strange look—the fluctuations in her aura were too intense.
He'd forgotten to ask what history Ascalid had with the Puppet King. The moment she had seen him, he'd already sensed her shaking.
"Let me take it from here."
Charles stepped past her to face the Puppet King. "Sorry to keep you waiting. But don't worry—this won't take long."
"Carnage Opera!"
The Puppet King didn't answer, immediately launching an attack.
Charles's hand blade swept across, crystalline threads wrapping around his arm before being instantly burned to ash by flame.
This was the Puppet King's Device—threads so fine and strong they could slice as well as any blade.
Even the sturdiest armor would be cut to pieces.
But unfortunately for him, they weren't enough to breach Charles's defense.
The Puppet King didn't seem surprised. "Truly, you're so strong it's despair itself! But someone so mighty—do you really mean to bully little weak me? A shining hero shouldn't abuse his strength, should he?"
Charles stepped forward, a tide of fire rolling with him.
"Don't joke with me. You started this fight. You hurt my friends—you crossed my bottom line. Someone like you is beyond forgiveness. And let me correct you: I'm no hero. To someone like you… I might as well be a demon."
The Puppet King's pupils widened. He realized he had misjudged his opponent. This was a man like a demon from hell, his killing intent ice-cold—nothing like the 'hero' he had imagined.
Panic flickered across his face as his cowardice showed.
"Deus ex Machina!"
Debris, shattered machinery, even boats washed ashore by the tide were drawn together, forming a giant several stories tall.
The giant swung a colossal fist at Charles, rubble raining down.
Charles didn't stop moving. He opened his palm toward it—flames surged forth, engulfing the giant entirely.
With a roar, the giant exploded into fragments. Amidst the meteor-like rain of debris, Charles charged the Puppet King.
His fist hit empty air—the Puppet King had dodged early, retreating into midair.
He couldn't actually fly—his body was pulled by countless near-invisible threads he had laid in advance, letting him move like a marionette.
"This is what gives you the courage to challenge me? Cheap tricks?"
The Puppet King still heard Charles's voice in his ear—but the man was already in front of him.
Blood sprayed from between his teeth as Charles's punch smashed into his cheek, sending him tumbling, rolling across the ground.
Charles had no taste for cruelty, but this man would not be given a swift end.
The Puppet King dragged himself up, face twisted, sending another "Carnage Opera" at Charles.
"I told you—these little tricks… are useless!"
Without lifting a hand, the flames around Charles burned every thread to ash. He stepped in and drove a boot into the Puppet King's stomach, stomping him into the ground.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The ground cracked like a spider's web under the force, and the Puppet King's ribs shattered, blood from his lips telling of ruptured organs.
But as a Demon, his body was no longer human—while he hadn't reached the 'super-awakened' state of the Desert Death God, this much damage wasn't fatal.
Charles could feel him trying to heal, stitching his wounds with thread.
It was mending on the cellular level—true regeneration.
Charles didn't give him the chance. His foot came down again, snapping freshly-healed ribs.
"Pretty tough. But if I burn you to ash, will you still be able to spread your malice?"
He had vented some of his anger and was about to finish him—when he saw the Puppet King's lips move.
"S… save… me… sister…"
The idea of a man like him crying for help was laughable—did he really expect anyone to save someone bound for hell?
That was Charles's first thought—until he sensed a sudden shift in the aura behind him.
Before he could react, a heavy battle axe swept toward him. He barely raised an arm to block, yet the blow sent him flying.
Sliding back several steps, Charles frowned. "Miss Ascalid—just to confirm. You're not being controlled. You're betraying us of your own will?"
The one who had struck him was none other than his teammate, Ascalid—turning her weapon at the key moment to save the Puppet King.
Now he understood—her earlier instability wasn't random. It was because of what the Puppet King had called her: "sister."
Who could have imagined that the KOK A-rank Alliance's star Blazer, the Black Knight, was the sister of Rebellion's notorious Puppet King?
Ascalid didn't answer. But when Charles said "betrayal," her body flinched.
The Puppet King staggered to her side, having healed a little in the time she bought him.
"I knew it—you'd always protect me, sister!" he said with a smile.
Charles saw her hands trembling, but the axe never wavered.
He knew words would not reach her now—she had made her choice.
The Black Knight was now the Puppet King's puppet—not bound by Hell Spider Silk, but by the threads of blood.
A pitiful, tragic sight. Charles didn't blame her—she was only doing what she thought was right.
But she now stood as his enemy, and he would have no hesitation in striking her down.
The Puppet King, however, felt emboldened by her betrayal. "Even for you, facing two Demons at once won't be easy!"
Charles sneered. "Truth is, I could handle you alone. But this time… I'm not alone."
"Blazing Heaven, Scorching Earth—Dragon King Flame!"
A torrent of fire fell from the sky, forcing the siblings back. A girl descended like a knight of flame, standing tall on the battlefield.
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