Axcel hovered above them, floating effortlessly as he stared down at the battlefield.
"Is that all you can do?" he asked, voice calm and mocking. "How about I start attacking?"
He vanished.
In the blink of an eye—so fast that even the Five Kings couldn't track him—Axcel reappeared before the Sword Emperor. Only the Sword Emperor reacted in time, raising his blade.
SWIIIF—CLANG!
Within ten seconds, over fifty sword exchanges erupted—slashes so sharp and fast they carved currents of wind through the air.
"This boy…" the Sword Emperor thought, teeth clenched. "Seventy years… and he grew this strong? I still remember him as a mere teenager."
As their duel shook the air around them, six new figures appeared behind Axcel.
Ryuji's face paled.
"Be careful! Those are the Six Demonic Kings!"
Axcel's final strike pushed the Sword Emperor backward, his feet grinding against the shattered ground.
A wide grin curled on Axcel's lips.
"Now that my companions are here… let's enjoy ourselves, Sword Emperor."
Both sides collided like storms.
To the west and south, their armies clashed as well—minions tearing into defenders, chaos spreading like wildfire.
The Five Kings scattered toward the forest to draw the battle away from the nearby cities and limit civilian casualties.
Axcel, meanwhile, chased after the Sword Emperor relentlessly.
"Where are you running?" he taunted. "You dare call yourself the pinnacle of the sword?"
"How dare you challenge me, Heavenly Demon," the Sword Emperor spat.
"Heavenly Twenty-Seven Stroke Slash!"
One stroke unleashed a chain of blinding arcs—each powerful enough to sever trees, boulders, even the drifting leaves themselves.
Axcel evaded most, darting between the strikes, but several slashes cut across his body.
He only laughed.
"Wonderful… even in your old age, you still show some strength."
His eyes sharpened.
"Tell me, Sword Emperor… do you remember me? The boy who once begged you for help?"
Axcel pressed his palm against his chest—unlocking sealed meridians.
A surge of death qi and demonic qi burst outward, flooding the battlefield like a suffocating tide.
"Do you remember?" he repeated.
Ryuji froze as a memory stirred within him.
A boy—seventeen years old—approached the Murim Alliance gates, crying and trembling.
"What's your problem, boy?" Ryuji had asked at the time. "You look lost."
"I've been here for a year, sir," the boy sobbed. "Everyone says you're the strongest person in the world. Please… help me. I want to go home. One moment I was watching TV in my house, then a burst of light brought me here. Please… I miss my family."
"Boy," Ryuji had replied, "they call me the strongest—yes. But I'm not a fool. If you want to join our martial school, enroll properly. The difficulty is high, but believe in yourself."
"No… please… I'm telling the truth," the boy cried. "Please, just trust me…"
But Ryuji had already turned away.
As he walked off, he muttered a single word:
"Ridiculous."
And now that same boy floated before them—not begging, not crying—
—but demanding retribution from the world that abandoned him.
The clash continued—
the man hailed as the Pinnacle of the World against the man who had lost everything.
Rain began to fall, cold and heavy, but neither of them stopped.
Their movements were a blur, faster than the pouring rain itself.
Each step shook the earth, each strike tore through the wind with enough force to pierce stone.
But this time…
the Sword Emperor—Ryuji—was being pushed back.
Impossible.
That was the only word echoing in his mind.
"What… what kind of strength is this?" Ryuji muttered between breaths. "He doesn't even look tired… Is it because of that death qi?"
Axcel smirked.
"What's wrong, Sword Emperor? Or should I call you Ryuji now? It seems you don't deserve your grand title."
Ryuji grit his teeth.
Axcel tilted his head, laughing softly.
"You know I'm just playing with you, right?"
His smile vanished.
His voice turned cold.
"When Im in the Murim… I was kidnapped by the Demonic Faction. I had nothing. No family. No friends. No home."
He lifted his hand, dark qi swirling violently.
"I climbed to this position using nothing but talent. But while climbing… while learning those forbidden techniques… I started losing my emotions. Bit by bit. It drove me insane."
Rain dripped from his chin as he looked up into the dark clouds.
"But just recently… something popped in my head. A name."
His expression twisted.
"Coke."
Ryuji froze.
Axcel continued, voice low and trembling with rage.
"I've been Patriarch of the Demonic Cult for fifty years. I searched everywhere for a way back. I opened ancient tombs. I destroyed sects. I ripped the heavens apart… but nothing."
He clenched his fist.
"It's like my world never existed. Like I never existed."
His eyes burned with a hollow fury.
"I lost my purpose. I'm tired. So now… I'll destroy this world."
Axcel raised his sword, pointing it at Ryuji.
"Now, Ryuji… just die."
He swung—
CLANG!
A figure appeared between them, blade drawn.
Axcel's eyes widened.
"Why are you here… Yana?"
More shadows followed behind her.
A calm voice echoed through the rain.
"What are you doing, Axcel?"
The Plum Blossom Swordsman—Twelfth Patriarch of Mount Hua—stepped forward.
Her eyes were filled with hurt.
Or perhaps disappointment.
"Or should I call you… Heavenly Emperor Demon?"
She gripped her sword.
"You killed countless innocent people. You destroyed everything. I thought I knew you. We've been friends for seventy years."
She took a slow breath.
"If you surrender now… maybe—"
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Axcel's laughter cut her off—sharp, broken, almost painful.
"Don't be ridiculous."
He looked at Ryuji, then at Yana, then at the ruined land around them.
"You don't know me. None of you know me."
His aura swelled, death qi spiraling like a storm.
His gaze turned dull.
Cold.
Empty.
Then he whispered,
"I'm tired."
The rain fell harder.
"For over a hundred years… I've lived without truly living. Searching for a way home gave me a purpose. But now… I have no regrets left."
He lifted his sword, demonic qi rising like a dark sun.
"So let's finish this.
Let's fight… to the fullest."