“Retrieving the Star Tree and restoring its power, and twisting the Hell Gate ritual to that extent—none of it is easy.”
The man scratched his neck, pausing briefly before adding, “But the most surprising thing is that you actually care about your comrades.”
“You think I’m some kind of psychopath, don’t you?”
Dalen chuckled dryly, resting a hand on his hip. The man mirrored the gesture, hooking his fingers into his belt.
“Psychopath? What’s that?”
“Nothing you need to know.”
“Well, I gather it’s not a compliment.”
The air between the two men was taut, filled with seemingly idle gestures—a foot tapping lightly on the ground, a hand scratching a nose, subtle shifts in posture and gaze. These movements, though appearing insignificant, were a silent dance of strategy, each reading the other’s intentions.
The fight had already begun, even without a single punch thrown or spell cast.
‘This won’t be easy,’ Dalen thought, rotating his stiff wrist. It wasn’t a lack of preparation or effort. His current abilities and condition were at their peak.
He could confidently face Daltalion, the lightning mage who had barely won with the help of the Red Spear and the God of War. Even the necromancer Dallum Jive, who had been bypassed without a fight, seemed beatable considering the memorial stones that filled the snowy mountains.
But Dallain, the warrior and sorcerer of the final cycle, was undeniably the most formidable of the three transcendent beings he had nurtured. Even if he brought every character he had developed over hundreds of cycles, it was uncertain if he could win this last round.
[Can you win?]
‘Hard to say. Maybe fifty-fifty,’ Dalen shrugged at the Red Spear’s concerned question.
The battlefield felt overwhelmingly disadvantageous, but it wasn’t entirely without merit. Though not yet on equal footing with Dallain, Dalen had tasted the edge of the seventh rank while battling the true form of the Dragon God. The sensation of merging with three great dragons was something even the warrior of the final cycle had never experienced.
Moreover, the gray flicker visible through the man’s armor was evidence that he hadn’t fully integrated into this world. The fact that a corpse, which should have been immobile, had a tangible form suggested a significant expenditure of power.
“So, if you brought your comrades all the way here, there must be a reason?” the man asked suddenly. Dalen replied curtly, “The gate.”
“Ah, the gate. The ancient door that many must pass through? Don’t worry about it. I smashed it on my way up from the Abyss.”
”······.”
“No need to thank me. I had to come up to the Silent Moon Ridge to prepare your gift anyway. You received it well, didn’t you?” The man’s voice was calm, yet carried a strange madness as he compulsively scratched his neck.
“But thinking the labyrinth city would be safe was a bit naive. You’ve seen it collapse hundreds of times, yet you chose to send your comrades there?”
Crackle. Snap!
Black lightning sparked between the man’s scratching fingers, casting a shadow over his reddened neck. Dalen watched silently. Explaining that the labyrinth city was safer and that it needed his comrades’ help would be pointless.
When no response came, the man lowered his hand, dusting off his palms as he continued, “Well, it’s just as well. I didn’t really want to stain my hands with their blood.”
“That’s not very convincing. Didn’t you slaughter all the explorers trying to escape the labyrinth with monsters?”
“They were doomed anyway. Besides, I didn’t kill them directly, did I? If they intended to descend into the labyrinth, they should have been prepared to survive any situation. Falling to mere monsters is pathetic.”
Squelch.
The man took a step forward, breaking the tense balance between them.
“Now then…”
The sound of lava splattering.
The man’s finger pointed at Dalen.
“Shall we see how prepared the great hero of prophecy is?”
There was no warning.
As the man’s finger flicked, the sky split open.
“Black Thunder”
A bolt of lightning, thicker than any ancient tree, descended, scattering the mist on the ground.
Reacting was too late. By the time Dalen’s hand gripped his axe, the black lightning had already struck the earth.
“Damn it…”
Boom──┴─┬─┴┬─
The world turned black.
Boom! Crackle──!!
Thunder echoed across the mountainside, a beat too late.
By the time the thunder that split the sky reached the ground, hundreds of black lightning bolts had already struck where Dalen stood.
“What? Is that it? Over already?”
Dallain, standing on air, looked down at the rising black smoke with a crooked smile.
Of course, Black Thunder was one of his most efficient and powerful attacks.
The time it took to focus hundreds of bolts was less than a single breath.
The mountainside hit by the black lightning had been blown away, leaving no trace of the cabin or clearing that had been there.
”······.”
It was as if a giant beast had taken a bite out of the mountain. How long had he watched the smoke, like the breath of a monster?
The man’s crooked smile lifted slightly. He spoke, “Not bad.”
Something flashed, and the smoke parted. A white flash. An axe.
The flash, faster than a bullet, split into hundreds.
The man flicked his fingers again. Hundreds of black lightning bolts fell to the ground, meeting the axes flying skyward.
Crack━━━━!!
Hundreds of flashes and hundreds of lightning bolts collided.
The chain of explosions painted a crimson-black wall between heaven and earth.
Holy power and thunder clashed, overturning the shades of black and white, while the magical flames from the shattered axes licked the air.
“Hahaha! The great axes of Lukebuhime! I used to favor those myself. But what a shame! They shattered with just one throw!”
Dallain shouted, looking down at the crimson-black wall of flames. No answer came.
Instead, hundreds of weapons burst through the wall.
Each one a relic weapon capable of slaying demons, worth a chest of gold coins like the great axes.
“Ridiculous! Did you buy out the labyrinth city’s auction house? Or did you raid a hidden dragon’s lair?”
The magical power in the flashing spears and arrows widened Dallain’s eyes, though only for a moment.
As a warrior and sorcerer, his calloused fingers deftly orchestrated a counter.
Soon, black lightning wove a massive net.
“Black Thunder”
“Nameless Blade”
───Ratatatatata!!
A downpour of black lightning.
The wave of relic weapons was caught in the storm of black lightning, shattering and consuming each other in a grand explosion.
Boom······!!!
The sky over the Silent Moon Ridge was painted with colorful, murky fireballs.
The heat evaporated the peaks of several mountains, and the mist that had blanketed the ridges was blown away, revealing the bare, dead forest beneath.
“Whew···!”
At the bottom of the battlefield, where a level of the labyrinth was being scorched, Dalen was running along the valley.
Even with the help of Arvor’s swordsmanship, constantly launching weapons stored in a subspace, it wasn’t enough to completely fend off the black lightning’s downpour.
[Dalen! Be careful!]
A black lightning bolt pierced through the barrage of relic weapons.
Predicting Dalen’s path, the lightning struck down, narrowly missing him as he twisted his upper body in a near-acrobatic dodge.
Crackle━┻┳━━┳
The black lightning grazed just in front of his chest.
Even the aftermath shattered his relic armor, and his skin, tougher than steel, was scorched black by the heat.
Boom──!
A boulder, taking the lightning in his stead, exploded, creating a crater over a hundred meters wide, followed by the delayed sound of thunder.
Crack!
[Dalen, what are you thinking! Open your domain immediately···!]
The Red Spear shouted beyond his mind. Dalen shook his head as he changed direction and sprinted.
Winning in a direct confrontation was unlikely.
What he needed was a single, decisive strike to catch his opponent off guard.
The battle between transcendents is as much a game of strategy as it is a contest of momentum.
Ultimately, the key lies in how well you can conceal your hand, breaking your opponent’s expectations at the critical moment to seize control and increase your chances of victory.
In this final confrontation, Dalen knew precisely when to seize that perfect opportunity.
Even if he was outmatched in sheer firepower, he couldn’t afford to reveal his domain too hastily.
“Not yet…”
Boom!
He rolled to the side, narrowly dodging a lightning bolt that crashed down from above.
Across the turning clock, high in the sky, Dallain’s face twisted in frustration.
“You little rat. Is this pathetic trickery the culmination of hundreds of worlds’ ends?”
For the first time, Dallain moved. His left foot stepped forward.
From the sole of his leather boot to his ankle, a fiery red hue spread, like molten lava.
“Crimson Flame God Step.”
“Artifice Armor: River of Flame.”
Boom!
His foot slammed down from the heavens, leaving a massive footprint on the ground hundreds of meters below.
A fiery trench, over a hundred meters long and several meters wide, scorched the earth.
Rumble…
The very air shattered, creating a vacuum that sucked in everything around the footprint.
Then, the compressed heat exploded, spewing out the air it had swallowed and sweeping the surroundings with a scorching wind.
Dalen was outside the storm’s reach. As Dallain’s foot descended, Dalen used his water-flow armor to dampen the heat, buying himself time to relocate far away.
Dallain’s gaze tracked his new position, and he shouted.
“Is redefining the concept of artifice just for that pathetic armor…?”
Before he could finish, his left hand shot out. No incantation, no gestures.
A massive magic circle imprinted on the ground, freezing the space around Dalen.
“Barrier of Binding.”
“Return to the Abyss.”
But Dalen had already vanished from that spot. Dallain’s head snapped around.
“Is that so?”
In the bloodshot eyes of the war god, the man, marked with scorch marks, grinned.
“It seems you’re the one struggling to catch someone who’s just running away.”
His lips curled into a mocking smile, revealing sharp canines.
It was a clear taunt.