The direct clash between Orsaga and Helion unleashed a shockwave that felt like a planet was exploding.
The violent impact forced even Orsaga to stumble back several steps.
As for Helion, his comparatively lighter form was sent flying like a missile, hurtling over ten kilometers before finally managing to stop himself midair.
But before he could fully steady his stance, Orsaga had already torn through space and appeared beside him—without a word, he threw another punch.
Though this punch lacked the overwhelming power of the initial strike, it was quickly followed by another—and another.
In an instant, Orsaga's arms became a blur, a torrential downpour of fists that rained upon Helion like a storm.
The Sun God's greatsword struggled to keep up with the barrage, each block erupting in deafening crashes of metal and force.
Helion's grip began to crack under the sustained recoil, his palms tearing open—yet divine energy surged forth, healing the wounds just as quickly as they appeared.
But Helion wasn't the only one bleeding.
Orsaga's armored fists—despite his incredible durability—had also begun to fracture. The outer plating of his arms splintered like cracked volcanic rock, and lava-like blood oozed through the fissures.
However, unlike normal blood, Orsaga's demonic ichor didn't simply spill to the ground.
Instead, it twisted into bizarre, malformed lifeforms midair—each born from the essence of his body, and each armed with their own perverse abilities.
At first, Helion paid them little mind.
But after a few rounds of combat, he quickly realized these things weren't just distractions.
Born from Orsaga himself, each carried curse-infused traits that even divine protections couldn't fully negate.
They launched attacks from afar—casting curses, unleashing discordant soundwaves, devouring shadows...
While none were fatal, their presence added an irritating, suffocating pressure to the battle.
And as time passed, Orsaga only became faster.
The golden light in his pupils gradually gave way to blood-red, as a frenzied bloodlust began to take hold.
He was clearly getting excited.
Now, even with the world's protective blessings boosting his strength far beyond normal, Helion found himself gradually losing ground under the relentless assault.
Suddenly, as he instinctively cut down one of the demonic blood-creatures, Helion felt his back slam against something—the outer isolation barrier.
Originally placed to prevent demons from escaping the combat zone, the barrier now served as an unintentional wall, blocking his retreat.
Only then did he realize how far he'd been driven—over thirty kilometers from their starting point, pushed all the way to the battlefield's edge.
Glancing around, he saw that everything had been ravaged by their fight.
The island that once served as their battleground had been reduced to smoking rubble. Even the ocean itself had begun to evaporate under Orsaga's intense body heat.
In less than ten minutes, the sea level had dropped by more than ten thousand meters.
What remained had boiled into vast steaming basins, and the nearby coastal regions had turned into cracked, desolate wastelands.
Fish carcasses and scorched stones drifted in the turbulent air, pulverized into ash by the repeated shockwaves.
And this wasn't the only battlefield.
Several other clashes between Greater-Rank demons and divine warriors continued to erupt across the isolated zone.
Though none were quite as catastrophic as this one, the constant bursts of high-tier energy shook the realm like an ongoing earthquake.
In comparison, the low-to-mid level skirmishes between ordinary Abyssal demons and zealot soldiers seemed… quaint.
Almost childlike.
In fact, most of the casualties among the lower ranks were due to friendly fire from the Greater-Rank combatants, their deaths mere collateral damage from the apocalyptic exchanges above.
Following Helion's gaze into the distance, Orsaga raised an eyebrow in confusion:
"What are you looking at? Trying to pick out your burial site?"
"No need. You're a god, after all. I won't waste your corpse—I'll make good use of it."
Helion snorted, cracking a grin despite himself.
"Funny, I was just about to say the same. I'll forge your body into a divine weapon. As for your soul? I'll cast it into the heart of the sun, where it will burn for a million years."
Orsaga's eyes lit up with interest.
"The center of the sun?, Sounds like a hot spring. I love hot springs!"
For a moment, Helion was genuinely at a loss for words.
He had meant it as a threat. Orsaga, however, sounded genuinely thrilled by the idea.
Trying to keep up with the demon's utterly unhinged train of thought was exhausting.
So he gave up on the banter and simply raised his blade—
And slashed down with divine fury.
---
Dozens of minutes later.
Outside the containment barrier…
A king clad in enchanted royal armor wiped demon blood from his sword, exhaling in relief.
"Thank the gods the Church managed to hold the demons at bay. Only a few got through, so—"
CRRRRAACK—
Before he could finish his sentence, a sharp sound echoed across the sky.
Everyone looked up.
The once-clear sky was shattered, split open by a web of jagged cracks—like a glass dome being crushed from within.
Snowflake-like shards began falling from above, exposing the scene hidden behind the veil:
A colossal void, its diameter beyond comprehension.
Land, sea, clouds—gone.
In their place, aerial warfare raged—Abyssal demons and divine zealots clashing amidst the void, suspended midair.
As the seal broke, entire swathes of seawater were sucked into the hollow space, forming a massive whirlpool that dragged down everything nearby.
The king and his entourage had no time to react.
Suddenly, a blinding golden flash erupted in the distance, brighter than the sun—eclipsing all vision.
The light was followed by a shockwave—
And then something fell from the sky.
A blazing comet streaked down from the heavens, crashing toward the king's fortress.
BOOOOOOM!!
A deafening impact tore the horizon apart.
The fortress, a structure spanning several kilometers, was annihilated in a single strike.
The resulting crater was tens of meters deep.
Its supposedly impenetrable magical defenses?
Utterly meaningless.
In the smoking ruins, a towering figure emerged from the dust, brushing rubble from his shoulders.
"Huh?" Orsaga scratched his head, confused.
"Did I just land on something important?"
With a body over 40 meters tall and weighing more than ten million tons, Orsaga's crash—propelled at supersonic speeds—had struck with the force of a battleship railgun.
The impact was comparable to a strategic-class weapon.
The fortress was gone.
Flattened.
Not even debris remained.
__
T/N:
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