In the modern waters of Devon Island, what was once the world's largest uninhabited island now lay in ruins. The frozen coastline had transformed into a boiling surge of waves, beneath which crimson light flickered—magma from the earth's depths, ignited by the battle between Roy and Veeraj, a convergence of the planet's heat.
Land that had remained perpetually below freezing now steamed like a desert under scorching heat. If the two continued fighting unchecked, the entire Arctic would likely melt, causing global sea levels to rise—a catastrophe capable of wiping out most of humanity.
Veeraj was frantic. Not only did his very existence threaten the collapse of modern human civilization, but Roy had already initiated humanity's extinction plan in ancient India.
Frail yet favored by heaven, humanity had now become mere bargaining chips between these two supreme beings. Even the technological civilization developed over millennia stood utterly defenseless against a demon king like Roy.
Luo Hao and Annie Charlton joined Athena in battle, swiftly driving Lancelot back into myth within a few exchanges. Without pause, the two Campiones and the Heretic God then intervened in the fight between Roy and the Last King.
Yet the trio knew their strength was of little consequence in such a battle. Annie, having already unleashed two major attacks, was running low on magical energy. Thus, they merely assisted Roy, intermittently harassing the Last King to prevent him from fighting at full strength.
Deafening roars echoed as figures darted across the desolate sea. Athena's Black Sword, Luo Hao's divine palms and sonic attacks, and Annie's demonic spear struck intermittently, reducing the once-thousand-island archipelago to scorched ruins.
The true vanguard of the battle remained Roy. He had lost count of how many times he had clashed with Veeraj. Though Roy's magical energy far surpassed that of a Campione, it paled in comparison to Veeraj's Covenant Sanctioned Power.
Therefore, Roy had to carefully calculate the use of his magical power with every strike, minimizing the use of techniques that consumed too much energy. Moves like Annihilating Thrust or the latter forms of the Hand of Jacob were avoided as much as possible. Though powerful, these techniques demanded excessive magical power. Even if he managed to land a fatal blow on Veeraj, the Last King would instantly revive at full strength, leaving no room for respite.
In this utterly lopsided battle, Roy had no choice but to focus on defense, relying on less costly techniques to deflect overwhelming force, barely managing to hold his ground.
Only when Veeraj unleashed the White Star of the Divine Sword of Salvation did Roy steel himself to counter with Athena's Black Sword. Though this consumed a tremendous amount of magical power, he had no alternative—the Last King's White Star was simply too devastating. If left unchecked, its eruption would annihilate not only Roy but also the other three present.
Even when matching it with Athena's Black Sword, Roy still fell short against Veeraj, empowered by the Oath of the Great Covenant. Each clash left Roy grievously wounded, his organs churning in agony as blood poured freely from his mouth.
Roy himself had lost track of how long he had been fighting the Last King. Against such a formidable foe, he had to give his all, maintaining absolute focus—the slightest lapse could be fatal. His body was already in tatters, sustained only by his Body of the Holy Son and sheer willpower.
At this moment, Roy felt a flicker of gratitude for Scáthach's brutal training in the Land of Shadows. Without her hellish regimen, the Roy of old would have long succumbed to the unbearable pressure and physical torment, screaming in pain—not out of shame, but sheer survival instinct.
Even as his body neared numbness, as long as it functioned, he would fight. Even as his consciousness wavered, as long as the battle remained undecided, he would not yield. Even with only the slimmest chance of victory, he would seize it and never let go.
This was the bearing of a true warrior. No one could guarantee they would only face weaker foes in life. Against a superior enemy, failing to uphold these principles meant that no matter how much power one possessed, they were nothing more than an upstart.
The Last King was not the strongest person Roy had ever encountered, but he was the strongest enemy. Among the Heretic Gods of the past, only Michael—his first deicide—had exacted a significant toll. The rest had been slaughtered with ease, hardly qualifying as battles.
But now, Veeraj, the Last King, had reminded Roy once more of the grueling ordeal of godslaying.
Despite his overwhelming superiority, Veeraj found himself unable to defeat Roy. No matter how many times he struck, Roy continued to fight with unyielding vigor. No matter how much force he exerted, Roy resisted with sheer determination.
Gradually, the anger in Veeraj's heart began to fade, replaced instead by admiration for Roy.
Such indomitable will, such unyielding spirit—Veeraj truly wondered how he had forged himself through such trials. Over countless years, he had encountered numerous Campiones, each of whom had slain gods through sheer fortune. Thus, even the strongest among them, despite their god-slaying power, could never truly escape the heart of a mortal.
Even those Campiones who had felled many deities still held overwhelming advantages against Heretic Gods. Battles of that caliber could never bring about true transformation in the Campiones themselves.
But now, he had met one who could truly be called a "hero"—or a "demon king." The courage to face death head-on, the resolve to never yield no matter how grievous the wounds, the body that should have long collapsed yet still stood tall—all of it left Veeraj unable to summon even a shred of anger toward him.
"Ah..."
The Last King sighed softly.
Though he too was weary, his energy waning, his body bore no wounds. One who could revive endlessly had no concept of injury.
"If circumstances were different... if our roles were reversed, I would have wished to share a drink with you, to become... friends."
Pulling the Divine Sword of Salvation from Roy's abdomen, Veeraj watched as blood seeped from what should have been an unbreakable body. Resting the blade against the ground, the noble prince gazed at Roy with a complicated expression, his voice soft with admiration.
"What... stopping already?"
Roy coughed twice into his hand, the wound on his abdomen quickly scabbing over after a brief flow of blood. His body, after all, was "steel and iron," nearly without weakness. Even riddled with scars and sword marks, so long as his will endured, this body would not fall.
Now, Roy felt nothing but exhilaration. To fight the Last King to the death—unlike in the Land of Shadows, where Scáthach struck mercilessly yet never killed him—here, every moment was a brush with death, an approach to annihilation. And in this slaughter, Roy felt himself ascending, purified.
This invaluable combat experience would serve him endlessly.
"No more... I know I've already lost..."
Veeraj gave a bitter laugh, tilting his head toward the sky as he murmured, "...I can feel it. My existence is fading."
The moment he spoke, his expression twisted. The divine power of the Great Ritual of the Old Covenant surged violently within him, his body's heat skyrocketing—as if his entire being was undergoing nuclear fission!
"Watch out—get away from here!!"
Roy shouted, leaping back at once. Simultaneously, Luo Hao, Athena, and Anne also reacted, each employing their secret arts to retreat alongside Roy. But they were a fraction too slow—before them, a brilliance like a solar flare erupted skyward, engulfing the northern Canadian seas in blinding light and scorching heat.
BOOOOOOM————————
The massive explosion evoked memories of Tunguska, completely leveling the entire Baffin Bay. Roy and his companions were sent flying by the terrifying divine shockwave, hurled countless kilometers before finally coming to a stop.
Annie Charlton was directly knocked unconscious with severe injuries. Athena, being an Earth Mother Goddess with an immortal attribute, was in slightly better condition. Sect Leader Luo Hao floated on the sea's surface, panting heavily. She had contributed the most in the previous battle against the three Heretic Gods and was now struck by the aftershock of Veeraj's self-destructive attack, her body barely holding on.
Yet Luo Hao forcibly activated a secret technique, allowing her near-limit body to rise once more from the sea's surface.
Roy was also grievously wounded by that strike, but his face revealed a joyful, maddened grin as he burst into laughter: "...Hahaha!! Veeraj, I never thought even the Covenant's Great Law would be beyond your control!"
As the explosive shockwaves gradually dissipated, a figure staggered unsteadily across the sea. Veeraj's body began flickering faintly, as though he might vanish with the wind at any moment. The immense divine power within him also grew erratic, as if these forces could no longer be controlled and were escaping his body.
Veeraj remained silent, merely staring blankly toward the cosmic horizon where a luminous band had traversed the river of time from 2400 BC to the present. Unconsciously, tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.
At that moment, every person worldwide who witnessed this luminous band—whether magus, knight, ordinary citizen, cold-blooded politician, or even the willful and unruly Campione demon kings—as long as they were still "human," could not suppress the sorrow in their hearts, their faces drenched in tears.
No one knew what that luminous band represented, but merely seeing it evoked the lamentation of human order, the final wail of humanity's principles, piercing the hearts of all who beheld it, leaving them with nothing but tears.
Only Roy, though human, continued laughing—laughing madly, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
Slowly, Roy raised his right hand, five fingers casually pointing toward Veeraj. At the roots of his fingers appeared ten illusory golden rings—the Ten Rings of Solomon!
He whispered softly, reciting the final incantation of humanity's incineration: "...The time of birth has come. He is the one who shall correct all creation."
***
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