The Supreme Lord's eyes narrowed, the crimson and blue irises burning with contempt.
"Do you think escape is so simple after the chaos you've wrought? I will ensure you are buried here, and your rebellion against the world is buried with you. Forever."
The Supreme Lord surged forward, cutting a bloody path through the intervening soldiers. His black blade was a blur, harvesting lives with terrifying efficiency. He closed the distance to Malik, who spun around, gasping for breath, and barely managed to parry the strike at the last second.
The swords locked with a deafening screech of metal. Malik stared into the eyes of the entity before him—eyes filled with an ancient, simmering rage. A primal terror clawed at Malik's insides. This wasn't just an enemy commander; this was a force of nature, a dormant horror that never should have been woken.
The Supreme Lord unleashed a flurry of strikes—left, right, overhead—moving with blinding speed. Malik parried desperately, his arms jarring with every impact. To his own surprise, his body reacted on its own, muscles twitching with honed reflexes he didn't possess, keeping the lethal black steel inches from his skin.
Suddenly, salvation arrived from the sky.
A massive figure leaped at the Supreme Lord, dual axes swinging toward his right flank.
Malik exhaled, a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The giant. Just in time.
The Supreme Lord didn't even turn. He caught the giant's axes with his sword, the impact creating a shockwave that dusted the ground around them.
"You will not survive today, Supreme Lord!" the giant roared. "Our leader is a warrior without peer!"
Don't provoke him, you clumsy oaf! Malik screamed internally. We are not his equal. I am certain he hasn't even used a fraction of his power.
With a flick of his wrist, the Supreme Lord shoved the giant back. The massive warrior stumbled but quickly recovered, spinning his axes until they glowed with a radiant blue light.
In response, the Supreme Lord's black blade pulsed with dark energy. He swung it horizontally. A crescent of pure void detached from the blade, screaming through the air toward the giant.
The giant crossed his axes to block. The impact shattered his weapons instantly. The force threw him backward, blood spraying from a deep gash in his shoulder. He hit the ground hard and didn't rise.
Malik's composure fractured. Even the giant couldn't last a minute against him!
From behind, a spearman in a green tunic vaulted toward the Supreme Lord. He had black hair tied in a tight bun and wielded a yellow spear that hummed with power.
The Supreme Lord placed his sword behind his back, blocking the spear without looking. The spearman pressed his attack, his weapon emitting a dense red aura as he poured his energy into the strike.
"My spear pierces the strongest metals, and my Art amplifies that penetration!" the boy shouted, veins bulging in his neck. "You are finished! Attack now, Nebras! One strike and it all ends!"
Hope flared in Malik's chest. He glanced over and saw the giant rising, his axes miraculously repairing themselves through some unknown Art. The big man charged back into the fray, fearless.
Malik decided to salvage the crumbling morale of his troops. He needed to look like the hero they believed him to be.
"I deceived you, Supreme Lord!" Malik shouted, injecting his voice with the confidence of a master strategist. "All of this was a performance, a feint to draw your focus so you would fall into my trap. My men have you surrounded. Your end is here."
Malik raised his azure sword and lunged, aiming a thrust at the Supreme Lord's exposed side.
To his shock, the Supreme Lord didn't move. He stood statue-still.
Malik drove the blade forward, expecting it to sink into flesh. Instead, it stopped abruptly, as if hitting an invisible wall of diamond. The impact jarred Malik's arm to the shoulder.
The Supreme Lord, meanwhile, was effortlessly parrying the giant's renewed assault with one hand. He glanced at Malik.
"Trying to penetrate my body without using your Art, 'Hero'?" The Supreme Lord's voice dripped with mockery. "Your men use their Arts to try and kill me, yet you attack like a reckless novice. You are a fake. You are not the Awaited Hero."
Malik froze, the blood draining from his face. He knows.
He looked at his companions' glowing weapons, then at his own dull, lifeless blade. The magnitude of his predicament crushed him. He squeezed his eyes shut, straining every muscle, trying to summon that strange energy he had seen the others use.
Come on! he screamed in his mind.
A few pathetic sparks fizzled around his sword.
The Supreme Lord blasted a wave of unseen force from his palm. The giant was launched backward, his body skipping across the battlefield like a stone on water.
The spearman was still pushing, his face purple with exertion, trying to break through the Supreme Lord's defense. The Supreme Lord didn't budge. He turned slowly, grabbed the spear shaft, and snapped it with a casual squeeze of his fist.
He grabbed the spearman by the face, lifted him high into the air, and slammed him into the earth. The ground shattered. A pulse of black energy followed, deepening the crater and burying the boy within it.
Malik scrambled backward, falling onto his backside. Terror paralyzed his joints. He couldn't stand.
The Supreme Lord turned his gaze back to Malik, raising his sword for the killing blow.
Suddenly, streaks of light rained down from above—arrows like falling stars. The Supreme Lord spun his sword in a blur, deflecting every single one. The arrows kept coming, a relentless barrage.
"What has happened to you, Nebras?" It was the archer's voice, shouting from a distance. "Where is your power? Did something strip it from you? We are in trouble! The Kingdom armies have breached our center, and the right flank is crumbling under the pressure. You must finish him now! This is what you vowed your life to! This is why you endured the hardships! He is right in front of you. One strike could end it all!"
Malik's face was a mask of pure horror. I wish I could wake up from this nightmare, even if it meant waking up in my brother's grip. My brother is a cub compared to this terrifying lion!
He desperately sought a way out. The archer's words gave him an idea.
"I have lost my power!" Malik shouted to his men. "This cursed thing possesses a tool we knew nothing about! We must retreat now until I recover. We cannot defeat him like this!"
A soldier's voice wavered near him. "But... the armies have breached our headquarters, my Lord. There is nowhere to retreat to. This is our last stronghold. If we are defeated here, they will root us out and exterminate us entirely. We resolved to fight to the death! If we win here and defeat these armies, we can liberate the world. But we never expected the Supreme Lord to come in the flesh!"
This is their last stand! Malik thought, despair washing over him. Why, of all times, did I come into this body at this critical moment? I was about to sit on the throne of my kingdom, and this hero was about to liberate his world. Now neither of us has succeeded.
This is a disaster. It's worse than I imagined. I have to wake up. I have to go back to my body so this hero can save his land and I can seize my throne from my brother. It's not too late.
Malik closed his eyes, focusing all his will on the concept of return.
Suddenly, a voice pierced his mind like a sharp arrow.
"So that is what happened. You came here by mistake. You poor wretch. I will end your misery now."
Malik's eyes snapped open.
The Supreme Lord deflected the last volley of arrows. Then, his blue eye flashed.
Time froze.
The arrows hung suspended in the air. The soldiers who had been charging, mouths open in war cries, swords raised, were locked in statuesque stillness.
The Supreme Lord walked forward, unhurried. His eyes were smiling.
Malik gasped. He realized with horror that he wasn't frozen like the others.
"Mercy!" Malik screamed, falling to his knees, begging with everything he had. "I know nothing of this battle! I am not the one who challenged you! If I lived in this world, I would be your most loyal servant! I think like you! Humans can only be ruled by iron and fire!"
The Supreme Lord stepped closer, leveling the tip of his black sword at Malik's chest.
"And that is exactly why you must die," the Supreme Lord said softly. "Two captains cannot steer a single ship. You are more dangerous than the so-called Hero because you understand how I think."
The blade thrust forward.
It pierced Malik's chest.
He coughed, blood splattering from his lips. The Supreme Lord pushed the sword deeper, twisting it slowly. Malik screamed in agony, clutching at the cold steel with his hands, trying to pull it out, but it was immovable.
He felt the life draining out of him, his soul being ripped away. He had never felt pain like this.
So this is death, Malik thought, his vision darkening. What a miserable end. What a miserable wretch I am.
At least... I will return to my world. Or so I hope.