Boom! The mansion, sliced diagonally, collapsed under its own weight, no longer supported.
Seconds later, amidst a cacophony of crumbling, the once-valuable estate was reduced to rubble.
Cough, cough, cough. As the dust settled, a few mages struggled to crawl from the debris.
To survive a sudden assault by a Campione was already fortunate.
Compared to their colleagues, cleaved in half without resistance, they had little to complain about.
Even if the attack was merely a test of an Authority, surviving its aftermath was a feat worth boasting about for a lifetime.
Outside the ruins, a golden-haired youth stood, sword resting casually on his shoulder, a radiant grin on his face.
Undoubtedly, the devastating slash that seemed to cut through everything came from him.
This Campione stood loosely, swinging his sword idly, exuding no aura of menace. He didn't resemble a swordsman, much less a fearsome Campione, but rather a street thug wielding a baseball bat, looking for a fight.
Of course, if he were a thug, he'd be the world's most formidable one.
This thug was none other than the sixth Campione, the Sword King, Salvatore Doni—a lunatic who lived only for the sword.
He was also the nominal leader of Italy's mage associations, their protector against Heretic Gods.
"Hey, where'd he go? I could sense him just a moment ago!"
Noticing the absence of his fellow Campione's presence, Doni lowered the sword from his shoulder, his tone tinged with irritation.
Earlier, hearing of a Heretic God's presence, he'd sailed off immediately, only for his boat to capsize, forcing him to swim to his destination. Upon arrival, he discovered it was a false rumor.
He didn't mind such mishaps—his nature was to fight when there was a fight and to seek one when there wasn't.
But charging in full of battle lust, only to find no outlet, was frustrating—like watching a favorite show only to have the app crash mid-stream.
So, upon hearing of a new Campione who'd claimed his territory, he rushed back at full speed.
No misunderstanding—he wasn't angry, just excited.
He cared little for his territory.
What he craved was a good, hearty clash with his new kin.
Since his counterpart had taken his turf, no one could complain about his actions now, right?
He even toyed with the idea of deliberately claiming defeat after winning, handing over his territory.
That way, he could keep challenging his new kin under the guise of reclaiming it.
But the thought was fleeting.
In battle, a win was a win, a loss a loss.
If he won, his kin would surely come for a rematch eventually, and they could fight again.
"Hey, my kin, Lucius, was it? Come out and fight me fair and square!"
The Sword King waved his sword excitedly, his face beaming with enthusiasm.
Then, a sudden, intense sense of danger coursed through him.
He could die—
A familiar sensation.
He'd felt it facing Heretic Gods, battling the old man of Western Europe, or confronting that woman from the East.
No fear—only exhilaration.
For a Campione, the threat of death, which others dreaded, was merely a greeting.
"Excellent—"
The Sword King's body trembled with anticipation.
He'd come to mentor his younger kin, but this one had surprised him.
It seemed today would bring a battle beyond imagination.
He grinned from the heart.
His curse power surged.
Such a threatening attack—his opponent must be using an Authority.
As a veteran, he couldn't be discourteous!
"What a beast."
From a distant rooftop, Lucius sat casually, his gaze coldly fixed on the swaggering Doni amidst the ruins.
When he realized the Sword King's Authority had targeted both him and the mansion, he'd skipped the process of fleeing, instantly appearing on this rooftop.
He appeared calm, but inwardly, he was annoyed.
First, Lucius was a methodical person who loathed interruptions.
Though he'd anticipated the Sword King's arrival—had even lured him here intentionally—it still irked him.
And he despised others destroying what was his.
Doni's act of slashing his current residence without so much as a greeting was infuriating.
Humans had a thing called possessiveness.
Once an item bore his mark, it became an extension of him—his fists, his limbs, a part of him.
This feeling hadn't been strong before, but in this world, with his newfound power, he no longer needed to hide it.
"So—"
Piercing causality.
A golden sword, forged from immense divine power, appeared in his hand.
This sword's mana was several times stronger than the one he'd used to intimidate the mages.
Infused with Mars' divine power for sharpness and the Wolf God of the Huns' power for ferocity.
To prevent the Sword King from detecting the massive mana fluctuation during its creation, Lucius used his causality-piercing ability to skip the forging process.
He silently counted, waiting for the ability's cooldown to pass.
Then—
The cause was set!
Skip the process!
The result—
In an instant, Lucius appeared before the Sword King.
Without hesitation, he thrust the deadly sword into Doni's mouth!
"Care to die?"
***
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