The King of Swords froze.
He looked down at his empty hands, then at the sword sticking out of the ground, before slowly turning his head toward Rowan.
The next second, he revealed a bright, cheerful smile, like an innocent sunny boy.
"Can we call a truce?"
Rowan smiled faintly.
An invisible shockwave erupted from his palm.
It was as though a transparent wall had slammed straight into Salvatore.
Boom!
With a thunderous explosion, Salvatore was blasted away like a cannonball.
"A truce?"
Rowan sneered.
"Are you joking with me?"
As he mocked the man, Rowan's fist shot forward like a cannon shell, smashing viciously toward Italy's King of Swords.
Today, he was going to teach this troublesome bastard exactly why flowers were so red.
Fist Bone: Meteor!
This move was something Rowan had imitated from the Marine Hero Garp of the One Piece world.
It couldn't be called exactly identical.
But it was close enough.
As for its power—
probably two or three times stronger than Garp's version.
After all, Rowan's physical abilities were already no worse than Garp's to begin with.
And on top of that, he had deliberately enhanced his body with magic.
When this fist slammed into Salvatore's face—
the impact was absolutely exquisite.
If it had been anyone else, Rowan would probably have blown their head apart.
But Salvatore was different.
He was a Campione.
His physical constitution was comparable to that of a god.
Although Rowan's punch was earth-shakingly powerful, it still wasn't quite enough to explode his skull.
At worst—
it would give him a severe concussion.
Unfortunately for Rowan, Campiones also possessed terrifying recovery abilities.
Only a few seconds later, Salvatore climbed back to his feet.
Aside from some swelling on his face, he was perfectly fine.
Excellent.
What a wonderfully durable and qualified punching bag.
Rowan clenched his fist and charged at Salvatore again.
It wasn't that Italy's King of Swords had never thought of fighting back.
Rowan simply refused to give him the opportunity.
Teleportation.
Ever heard of it?
Relying on that spell, Rowan appeared and disappeared unpredictably, moving so quickly that Salvatore couldn't react at all.
The poor man was knocked around like a rubber ball.
He wouldn't die—
but his dignity was certainly taking a beating.
"ENOUGH!"
After being blasted away yet again, Salvatore roared furiously.
An enormous and terrifying surge of spell power erupted from his body.
This time, he truly stopped holding back.
He released almost every bit of spell power within him.
Bang!
And in the very next instant, Rowan tore straight through that overwhelming energy.
His fist descended like a meteor and smashed brutally into Salvatore's abdomen.
"Enough?"
"Not even close."
Rowan sneered as he watched Salvatore fly backward with a lifeless expression, skipping across the surface of the sea like a stone.
"You decide when the war begins."
"But I decide when it ends."
"This fight won't be over until I've vented all my anger."
And so—
for the next stretch of time, Rowan beat Italy's King of Swords with punch after punch.
Every blow landed cleanly.
By the end, Salvatore had completely given up resisting.
"If you've got the guts, just kill me already."
Rowan didn't kill him.
Instead, he beat him until his face was black and blue.
Even with a Campione's recovery ability, there was no way he would return to normal anytime soon.
For the next several days, the King of Swords would probably have to walk around with a face resembling a pig's head.
Only then did Rowan finally feel satisfied.
He tossed the unconscious King of Swords onto a public street, dusted off his hands, and leisurely walked away.
What Rowan didn't know was that not long after he left, someone discovered the unconscious King of Swords lying there with his face beaten into a swollen mess.
Naturally—
they took a photo.
And uploaded it to the internet.
One day later—
the entire magical world exploded.
Everyone in magical society knew who Salvatore Doni, the King of Swords, was.
After all—
he was a genuine Campione.
Yet now, this mighty god-slayer had somehow been beaten until his face resembled a pig's head and then dumped on the street.
It was unbelievable.
Completely absurd.
The magical world became as lively as though New Year had arrived.
Everyone began discussing the same question.
Who the hell had done it?
"I think it was probably the Marquis."
"A few years ago, the King of Swords stole his prey. It makes sense that the old man would eventually take revenge."
Quite a few people agreed with that theory.
But others disagreed.
"I don't think the old man did it."
"The reason is simple."
"That old monster isn't exactly merciful."
"If he really defeated the King of Swords, at the very least he would've broken half his bones."
"He might even have killed him."
"But this time, all that happened was Doni getting beaten into a pig's head."
"Isn't that way too gentle?"
That argument also received considerable support.
In the eyes of many magicians, the oldest Campione was an exceptionally cruel Demon King.
Even toward his own kind, Marquis Voban would never show mercy.
Merely beating someone's face into a swollen mess really was far too gentle for him.
"If it wasn't the old Marquis, then who?"
"Could it have been the Martial Arts King?"
"The King of Swords was injured on Sardinia, right?"
"The Martial Arts King hasn't left her territory in years."
"Exactly. It couldn't have been her."
"Then that makes things even stranger."
"If it wasn't the Marquis and it wasn't the Martial Arts King, who the hell beat him?"
"I heard a rumor."
"Apparently, a Heretic God appeared on Sardinia not long ago."
"Do you think the Heretic God did it?"
Everyone shook their heads at such an absurd suggestion.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
Campiones and Heretic Gods were natural enemies.
Once the two sides met, usually only one walked away alive.
People would rather believe that Marquis Voban had suddenly shown mercy than believe a Heretic God had done this.
Because it simply made no sense.
And just as everyone was endlessly arguing without reaching any conclusion—
another piece of news appeared.
And the already lively magical world became even more chaotic.
Sir Paolo, leader of the Copper Black Cross, suddenly issued an announcement to everyone.
His niece—
Erica Blandelli, the young genius Great Knight—
had recently slain the god Mekal on Sardinia.
She had officially become the seventh Campione.
The moment this news spread—
the entire magical world erupted.
No one had expected the seventh Campione to appear so suddenly and quietly.
And she was actually the genius Great Knight of the Copper Black Cross.
Wasn't that a little too ridiculous?
Many people were left speechless after hearing the news.
But some immediately thought of something else.
"The King of Swords was beaten into a pig's head on Sardinia."
"Erica killed a god on Sardinia and became a Campione."
"Both happened on Sardinia."
"Do you think…"
"Could the seventh Campione have been the one who beat up the King of Swords?"
"No way."
"The King of Swords is a veteran Campione."
"How could he lose to someone who only just became one?"
"You never know."
"What if it's true?"
"Impossible."
"Absolutely impossible."
Some remained suspicious.
Others became completely convinced.
Either way—
the magical world was thrown into chaos by the two pieces of news.
Yet no one dared personally verify the rumors.
After all, the matter involved two Campiones.
Gossiping privately was one thing.
But who would be stupid enough to walk up to either one and ask directly?
There wasn't a single Campione known for having a good temper.
Interestingly, however—
the matter did not end there.
Instead, the rumors only became more intense.
Eventually, they even reached Sir Paolo himself.
At first, Paolo didn't believe them.
But as the rumors became increasingly detailed and convincing, even he began to wonder.
So he found an opportunity to privately ask his niece.
"You weren't actually the one who beat the King of Swords into a pig's head, were you?"
Erica didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
She had never expected that even her uncle, at his age, could be such a gossip.
Apparently, enjoying juicy rumors really was part of human nature.
"Of course not."
Erica firmly denied it.
She explained that she hadn't even encountered the King of Swords when she left Sardinia.
"However…"
"I do know who did it."
Aside from the Heretic Gods, there had also been Rowan on Sardinia.
A Heretic God would never hold back against a Campione.
But Rowan would.
So there was a ninety-percent chance Rowan had been responsible.
After hearing the full story, Sir Paolo was left completely dumbfounded.
After all—
a god from another world?
That was simply too outrageous.
And apparently, the reason his niece had become a Campione was because this otherworldly god had helped her.
Were gods from other worlds always this warm and helpful?
In the end, Sir Paolo publicly released a statement declaring that the incident involving the King of Swords had nothing to do with his niece.
Not long afterward, the King of Swords' aide, Andrea, also issued a statement.
According to him—
the King of Swords had been injured while challenging a Heretic God.
No other Campiones were involved.
The announcement immediately caused another wave of astonishment.
It wasn't that no one had previously guessed a Heretic God might have done it.
People simply hadn't believed it.
After all, Heretic Gods and Campiones were mortal enemies.
Whenever they met, both sides usually tried their absolute hardest to kill the other.
There should have been no reason for a Heretic God to show mercy.
So everyone became even more curious.
Who exactly was the Heretic God who had beaten the King of Swords into a pig's head?
And why had that god spared him?
Unfortunately, Salvatore Doni himself had no intention of publicly explaining anything.
So speculation about the incident remained superficial.
No one actually knew what had happened.
This deeply disappointed countless gossip-hungry observers.
Eventually, they turned their attention toward guessing the identity of the mysterious Heretic God instead.
As for Rowan—
the man at the center of the storm shaking the magical world had absolutely no idea that his beating of the King of Swords had caused such an uproar.
By then—
he had already left Sardinia.
And arrived in China.
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— This Fanfic is Completed in Patreon!