Talia's heart was tangled beyond belief.
She had always regarded Xigelei as a precious treasure from her memories that could never be reclaimed.
Yet sharing a roof with Sigrid over this past period had led her to view Sigrid not only as a rival, but even more as a dear, congenial friend.
Sigrid maintained no sense of distance around her, acting with pure and earnest warmth.
Every day, Sigrid would inexplicably pull her into an embrace and sniff her a couple of times. Talia would feel troubled—after all, she was hardly a cat—yet at the same time, she found herself regarding Sigrid as an unexpected stand-in for her precious daughter, Xigelei.
Whenever she caught herself thinking this, a pang of guilt would tug at Talia's conscience.
And now it turned out that Sigrid was Xigelei all along.
Piecing together Sigrid's earlier reaction with the spell she had just unleashed—Tears of the Second Holy Polant Pope—there was no doubt that the Second Pope referred to Xigelei. The Xigelei she had seen throughout their time in the previous Shadow World was surely Sigrid herself.
Talia finally understood why, no matter how they counted heads back then, there had always seemed to be one challenger missing.
A look of weary confusion settled over her face. She had no idea how she was supposed to navigate this hopelessly tangled web between herself, Lanqi, Sigrid, and Hyperion going forward.
"Tata."
Right then, a tender, childish voice recalled her attention.
Talia traced the sound and turned her gaze toward it.
A diminutive figure stood there with arms raised wide, reaching upward.
Only Hyperion had embraced her a moment ago; Talia was still standing off to the side, yet to give her a hug.
"Uuu—"
Seeing little Xigelei asking for a hug, Talia could resist no longer. She knelt, gathered Xigelei into her arms, and nuzzled her cheek against the girl's.
Whatever happened in the future could wait for the future. Right now, she couldn't take it anymore—all she wanted was to hold Xigelei tight.
"You're playing foul, Xigelei," Talia grumbled softly.
"Hehe."
Tiny Sigrid closed her eyes in exhaustion, letting out a serene, half-conscious mumble like a dreamer's whisper.
The moment Talia wrapped her in that embrace, she could no longer resist the pull of slumber.
The warmth and softness of a mature woman, accompanied by the faint floral scent clinging to the ends of her hair, enveloped her completely, grounding her in their reality.
It was an embrace she had experienced only rarely since the day she was born.
Seeing Sigrid drift off peacefully to sleep, Hyperion breathed a sigh of relief as well.
It really had to be Tata.
"Meow."
Watching the group from nearby, Twelfth War God Bianca was thoroughly shaken.
She could broadly discern the nature of the relationship among these three women—at the end of the day, they were romantic rivals—yet it still baffled her.
Meanwhile, the man at the center of it all, Professor Landry, was staring intently toward the middle of the battlefield. In the face of this climactic showdown, he had chosen to outright ignore the impending romantic disaster.
His imposing, upright aura rendered the squabble utterly powerless to reach him, dissolving the tension naturally before it could even begin.
Just how had Professor Landry managed to keep three fiancées coexisting in such perfect harmony? Could the rumors swirling around Saint Creti Monastery actually be true? Yet there was no sign here of the rumored silver-haired married woman or the straight-black-haired wife, suggesting those scandals were only partially rooted in fact.
Question marks practically hovered in swarms over Bianca's head.
"Even if Saron understands Hyacinthus's fighting style, and even though he watched Hyacinthus fight at full power through the last two rounds and shares Sigrid's immunity to counters, stopping him will still be an uphill battle."
Ryan's worried voice snapped Bianca out of her daze, and she turned her eyes back toward the battlefield.
Deep in the ruins of Creti Memorial Square, dark storm clouds hung dense and low over the grim battleground, blotting out the sun.
Lightning flared and thunder crashed, streaks of violet electricity tearing through the sky and casting the grounds below in alternating flashes of brilliance and shadow.
Vision blurred into a chaotic haze.
The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of scorched iron.
Two silhouettes clashed in a whirlwind of blades.
Clad in a set of jet-black cloth armor, Second War God Saron moved as fluidly as a phantom.
"Hyacinthus, this is the one and only time I battle you with the intent to kill," Saron murmured to his old friend.
"With just your meager strength? You think you're worthy of facing me?"
Hyacinthus's laugh was drenched in contempt, making no attempt to conceal his disgust for Saron.
He swung the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros, cleaving violently toward the ground. In an instant, the earth fractured underfoot, and a bottomless chasm snaked outward, accompanied by dark-gold sword aura surging toward Saron.
Saron's pupils constricted. This was Hyacinthus's most formidable technique: the Sword Aura Sea Cleave.
Space within the collapsing zone twisted and distorted as if crushed under tremendous pressure. Anything pulled into it would be pulverized into fine dust.
Deciding in a heartbeat, Saron leapt into the air like a shooting star, avoiding the crumbling earth beneath him. In the next breath, he sent down countless crisscrossing streaks of black sword aura from above to seal off Hyacinthus's pursuit.
Seeing this, Hyacinthus flipped his wrist with detached nonchalance, and the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros blurred into tens of thousands of afterimages.
Saron's gaze focused sharply. Drawing a deep breath, he concentrated all the energy in his body into his blade.
The next instant, a dazzling crescent of sword aura burst from the tip of his weapon, scattering the surrounding phantoms.
Saron slashed out a massive half-moon arc of sword aura, crashing head-on into Hyacinthus's offensive.
Where the two sword auras collided, the air detonated, sending brilliant electric sparks flying in every direction.
Realizing his strike had failed to land decisively, Saron did not linger in close quarters. Riding the recoil, he twisted in midair to widen the distance between them.
"Accept your fate. You cannot escape."
Hyacinthus was manic, consumed by overbearing arrogance.
He pointed a finger upward, and a massive clock face suddenly materialized on the ground, its hands spinning at a speed visible to the naked eye.
In an instant, the entire battlefield was partitioned by concentric rings of sword aura into countless narrow sectors. Each compartment constantly shifted and rotated like a kaleidoscope.
Saron's brow furrowed tightly. Both Loren and Sigrid had been pushed to their absolute limits when facing this technique; the slightest misstep would see him diced to ribbons by the spinning rings of sword aura.
...
Beyond the distant crystal canopy.
"There's no telling how long Saron can hold out. While he's always sought a duel against the strongest, he knows he could die at any moment. He's only holding the line to protect Brillda," Julius said, his expression pained as he watched Saron sustain severe injuries in mere moments.
Saron had chosen to take their side because of Julius's plea. If that led to Saron's defeat and death, Julius had no idea how he could ever repay that debt.
"Meow? Meow?"
A cat's head poked out from Lanqi's dark shadow, uttering a sound as if just waking from a dream, instantly drawing everyone's eyes.
Boss Cat was thoroughly bewildered by the situation.
It had cast Night Dew Wind Chime exactly as Lanqi instructed, but waking up now felt like an entire century had passed!
"Little Black Bread is awake!" Iphatia shouted in delight, pointing toward the little black cat on the ground.
"Wait, why do you look so familiar...?" Bianca stared at the black cat, scratching her head in confusion.
Something about this cute Tier 6 kitten felt anything but ordinary.
"A War God, meow!"
Boss Cat scrambled onto Lanqi's shoulder in a flash, crouching against him while warily eyeing Bianca.
Why on earth was an imperial War God over on their side?!
"Don't be afraid. These War Gods are on our side now," Lanqi said, stroking Boss Cat gently.
He knew Boss Cat had been offline for far too long to understand the current tactical state. Besides, he had heard that back at Saint Creti Monastery, Boss Cat had once been captured by Bianca; the moment it heard her voice, it nearly jumped to attention and shouted, "Present!"
"Meow..."
Bianca clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her gaze, averting her eyes. The crisis was still unfolding, and having only just shifted from enemies to allies, she felt too embarrassed to ask Professor Landry if she could hold the adorable little black cat.
Yet an itch lingered in her chest, leaving her uncertain what she truly felt toward the creature.
"What's the situation on the battlefield right now, meow?" Boss Cat asked the others.
"It's like this, Boss Cat. After you fell asleep, we managed to rescue Loren, and he went up against Hyacinthus. But then... well, to make a long story short, Second War God Saron stepped in to buy us time," Hyperion summarized briskly.
"..."
Boss Cat's brain gradually began to stall.
"Then aren't we completely finished, meow?! Loren—Loren—wake up already!" Boss Cat's tail stood straight on end in sheer panic as it wailed toward Loren's direction as if trying to summon his departed soul.
"What do we do if Saron loses?" Barton asked over the communication channel.
Having finished directing the Brierda Mafia, he had arrived at the Voice of Truth Group to guard Abigail.
To him, everyone in the Silver Moon Restoration Society had become comrades once he assumed leadership of the mafia, but before that, imperial War God Saron had once been his brother-in-arms. He knew all too well the gulf in strength between Saron and Hyacinthus.
"At this point, there's probably only one person left who can withstand Hyacinthus," Abigail said after a moment's thought.
Though usually unreliable, when it came to sheer survivability mechanics and stalling tactics, he was the only option left in a desperate pinch.
"..."
Hearing Abigail's voice from outside the Saint Astri Barrier, everyone paused to think.
Their gazes turned toward the exact same figure.
"Me?" Torriador raised a hand, pointing at himself in disbelief. "Me, fight Hyacinthus?"
...
Saron maneuvered rapidly within the narrow, shifting spaces, leaping and dodging with pinpoint precision to evade the lethal sword aura.
At the same time, he had to keep track of the rotating clock face of sword aura, bracing for its sudden strikes at any second.
"Saron, you truly continue to surprise me. Excellent."
Before his voice even faded, the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros in Hyacinthus's grasp multiplied alongside his illusory duplicates into hundreds of sharp blades, unleashing an overwhelming cascade of linear slashes at Saron.
Saron took a deep breath. Facing this unavoidable grid of slashes, he chose not to evade.
Flipping his grip on his jet-black blade so it stood upright, an army-breaking sword stance erupted from the tip. A colossal phantom of an ascending dragon roared as it charged into the sword array, obliterating every trace of sword aura in its path.
Sword scars crisscrossed wildly, shredding the surrounding void into fragments.
"Split, sever, tear to ribbons!"
The earth was plowed into deep furrows as Hyacinthus's assault grew increasingly frenzied. Raising his blade toward the heavens, the clouds shifted hue in an instant, coalescing into a black vortex above the ruins that devoured everything around it.
Saron felt an unprecedented wave of menace washing over him, and the rings of sword aura finally began to contract.
His eyes narrowed. He knew every exchange could be his last.
Without a shred of hesitation, he poured every ounce of his remaining strength into his sword. A radiant, dazzling slash of pure white sword aura burst forth, carrying an unmatched lethality as it cleaved straight into Hyacinthus's sea of sword aura.
In a heartbeat, two entirely different sword intents collided in midair, raising a tempestuous wave of force.
With a thunderous roar, dust and debris billowed upward, obscuring the sky.
When the haze finally cleared, a massive crater had opened in the center of the battlefield.
Saron knelt awkwardly on one knee, leaning heavily on his sword to keep from collapsing entirely, blood pouring from his lips.
Hyacinthus, on the other hand, stood perched above the crater, the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros in his hand still gleaming with a ferocious, dark-gold chill.
Seeing this, Torriador, watching from outside the barrier, carved open a spatial portal.
"No choice. I'll just have to bite the bullet," Torriador muttered, his scalp tingling with dread.
If he didn't step up, not a single one of his high-demon friends would last more than a few seconds.
To protect his family and fellow demons, he had no choice but to gamble his life against Hyacinthus.
"Torriador, if you make it back alive, let's all go watch the Holy War Chronicles Half-Witch Arc together!" Iphatia called out from behind him in farewell.
"Don't you dare say stuff like that, Ipha!" Torriador's blood pressure spiked instantly; he could practically feel his lifespan evaporating away.
The group watched as Torriador departed.
"If Torriador falls, I'm next," Duke Migaya said without looking up from treating Loren.
A war of attrition might lack honor, but it was currently their most effective tactic.
...
Amid the brutal clash, Saron felt his strength failing him.
Hyacinthus deflected every one of his attacks with ease, while Hyacinthus's counters grew progressively more savage. Each swing carried apocalyptic force, sending splinters of force across Saron's frame and opening deep fractures along his body.
Even so, Saron held on with everything he had.
Since he had promised to hold out until Loren was healed, he would see that promise through, life or death.
Though he could not turn the tide on his own, he knew that if he yielded, the Creti Empire behind him would be doomed.
Suddenly, a dazzling arc of spatial flame flared across the battlefield.
A brilliant silver flash traced a piercing curve through the darkness, followed immediately by a figure scrambling out of the luminous arc to land behind Saron.
"Cardinal of Dimensions?"
Saron hadn't expected the Cardinal of Dimensions, Torriador, to arrive at this moment.
In theory, Torriador did stand a chance of stalling Hyacinthus.
Saron had clashed with Torriador not long ago, so he knew just how infuriating the man's survival instincts and spatial trickery could be.
Still, Torriador was fundamentally a caster. Against Hyacinthus, the slightest mistake could lead to an interrupted spell and instant death.
Hyacinthus could afford countless mistakes; Torriador could afford only one.
"Fall back and rest. Tag me in," Torriador said, glancing at Saron, who was bathed in blood, before nudging the spatial arc closer to him.
If Saron kept fighting, he would surely die. In that condition, it was better to let Torriador hold the line for a while.
As Hyacinthus's golden ring of sword aura surged toward them, Torriador was already enclosed within a transparent, six-sided cube, hovering in midair. Any attack passed harmlessly through him.
Saron did not hesitate. Leaping through the portal Torriador had opened, he vanished from sight.
The battlefield fell into a brief calm once more.
There remained only Torriador, fortified with defensive spatial magic, and Hyacinthus, sword in hand.
"Insects, garbage... it never ends, does it?"
Seeing yet another challenger step forward, Hyacinthus felt an itch of mounting irritation.
"I'll tear you all apart, starting where it hurts most!"
He had grown sick of this relay of foes and wanted nothing more than to end it all swiftly.
...
At the edge of the barrier.
"If this keeps up, is every single one of us going to have to take a turn up there?" Antanas asked, watching Torriador frantically dance around Hyacinthus in an all-out stalling effort.
Sigrid and Lanqi had bought the most time.
Saron was second.
From the looks of it, Torriador wouldn't last even as long as Saron.
If this continued, the time they could buy would dwindle rapidly, and whether they could even stall him at all would soon become a question.
"You can't be serious, meow?! I have to fight Hyacinthus too?!"
Boss Cat leaped off Lanqi's arm in sheer horror.
Though it was technically one of only two Tier 9 combatants on their side, it had never dreamed in its wildest nightmares that it would one day have to duel Hyacinthus.
"Don't worry, little kitty. Big sister will go before you," Bianca consoled, glancing toward Boss Cat.
"Uh..."
Boss Cat felt too embarrassed to even mention that it was a Tier 9. In a situation like this, even an imperial War God who had just joined them was stepping up ahead of it.
"Leave it to me."
Just as everyone was bracing for the worst-case scenario, a familiar yet feeble voice sounded from behind, making them all snap their heads around.
The black-robed cleric lying on the ground slowly opened his eyes. Those azure irises were webbed with broken blood vessels, yet they burned with unshakeable clarity and resolve.
Clenching his teeth, the gravely wounded Loren pushed up his battered body and wobbled to his feet.
"I will fight Hyacinthus," he muttered, weaving healing spells over himself. His voice was faint and halting, looking as though he might collapse at any second, yet in this moment, he was more resolute than anyone.
Either victory, or death.
"..."
The Frost Witch watched with deep concern as Loren forced himself forward the moment he woke, yet she could find no words to stop him.
Loren's steps were unsteady as he advanced, blood seeping from reopened wounds to leave a crimson trail in his wake. Yet he remained utterly unfazed, his gaze locked solely on that final battlefield.
Just as Antanas moved to hold Loren back and buy him more time for treatment, Duke Migaya blocked her path.
"Duke Migaya..." Antanas looked at him in surprise.
Migaya simply watched Loren walk away.
"No need to worry," Migaya stated with conviction.
He was confident in Loren's state.
Migaya believed in Loren.
Loren's life force was currently as withered as dry wood, yet the spring of his soul surged without end.
His physical wounds meant his combat capability was far below his initial peak, but he had now completely adapted to the Tier 9 domain and was marching into this final clash with an absolute resolve to die if necessary.
"Take this with you. It will save your life at least three times."
Lanqi moved before Loren at once—not to stop him, but to hand Boss Cat over to him.
"This is the Hutton Divine Beast Shield, capable of matching the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros," Lanqi explained.
Three charges of the small-scale immunity field, Dawn Storm, were automated equipment triggers that Hyacinthus could not interrupt, since Dawn Storm was an equipment card.
Meanwhile, the large-scale immunity field, Night Dew Wind Chime, was cast from another spatial dimension. While Hyacinthus could theoretically disrupt it, locking onto the casting node was immensely difficult.
"Huh?" Boss Cat felt its entire body run cold in Loren's hands.
It might specialize in high-end matches, but it had never imagined it would genuinely have to go toe-to-toe with Hyacinthus the moment it opened its eyes.
"What is this...?" Loren looked down at the little black cat in confusion. He couldn't understand why Lanqi wanted him to charge into battle against a sword-wielding Hyacinthus while holding a cat.
"Boss Cat, your chance to become a true guardian beast of the realm has arrived," Lanqi whispered encouragement to bolster its courage as he saw it off.
"There won't be some kind of karmic price this time, right...?"
Every time Lanqi spoke like this, Boss Cat's heart hammered frantically, making it hard to suppress the thumping excitement in its chest.
"There has never been a price. I've always been your wishing machine," Lanqi told Boss Cat gently. "If you don't become Catren, how will the world ever know you reached Tier 9 in an instant—a marvel unseen under heaven?"
Hearing Lanqi's guarantee, Boss Cat instantly found its spirits soaring.
"Great Cleric, call on me whenever you need invulnerability! With you and me together, we'll finish this in one go!"
It shouted with fervor before sinking straight into the shadows.
"..."
Loren looked back at Lanqi and nodded.
This cat evidently commanded an immunity field. Even if he ran into another situation where Imbalance Devourer stole his Divine Heavenly Retribution, this little black cat could shield him completely—and offering up to four barriers bordered on absurd.
...
On the other side of the field.
"Enduring this pressure is murder..."
Sweat beaded across Torriador's forehead as invisible spatial ripples surged around him.
Evading Hyacinthus's attacks wasn't particularly difficult for him; so long as he had mana to burn, he could achieve absolute evasion through his six-sided spatial barrier.
The real issue was that he had to protect himself while simultaneously preventing Hyacinthus from charging at the barrier.
This meant he frequently had to expend extra mana to harass Hyacinthus, and any single spell he cast risked being interrupted by Hyacinthus's Collapse of Causality, causing his mana to backfire and inflicting severe damage.
Ignoring his injuries, Torriador hurled multiple spatial spheres toward Hyacinthus.
The spheres expanded rapidly in midair, turning into tiny, pitch-black white holes that attempted to restrict Hyacinthus's movements.
They were close to forming a massive multidimensional cage to banish Hyacinthus into another plane.
"Foolish. You think petty parlor tricks like this can hold me?"
Hyacinthus raised the Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros, boundless heroic spirit energy surging around him.
The figures of the heroic spirits materialized into tangible form, brutally tearing apart the spatial cage before it could even fully deploy. The spatial barrier shattered like paper in an instant.
"Cough!"
Torriador coughed up a mouthful of blood as he attempted to cast again, his spell interrupted once more.
At this rate, he wouldn't even be able to maintain the mana for his six-sided barrier much longer, and every bone in his body felt ready to snap.
"I've prepared a gift for you, Torriador: vivid red blood and your dying screams. A fitting tribute for our farewell."
Hyacinthus could hardly wait to hear this damned Cardinal of Dimensions beg for mercy.
The Cardinal of Dimensions wasn't overwhelmingly powerful, but he had wasted an enormous amount of time.
"To be honest, aside from Ivanos, this is the first time I've ever run into someone as obnoxious as you..."
Torriador dragged in a ragged breath and circulated his mana once more, genuinely wondering if this was where he was going to get permanently locked away.
Right then, deafening thunder ripped across the horizon.
The roar was so immense it felt ready to tear the vault of heaven apart, shaking the earth to its core.
A dazzling bolt of lightning plunged from the sky, striking directly toward Hyacinthus and forcing even him to raise his sword in defense.
"Thank you for your hard work."
A figure in a black cleric's robe descended alongside the lightning, landing near Torriador to shield him.
"You're finally back from the dead!"
Torriador's eyes widened as he stared at Loren, who had won his second revival match.
Every millisecond on this battlefield had felt like an eternity.
"Mm."
Loren stepped slowly to Torriador's side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
A soothing gale washed around Torriador, and the injuries caused by his mana backfiring immediately began to mend.
"I'm clocking out!"
The moment Torriador could move, he slashed open a spatial fire arc and bolted away from the ruins of Creti Memorial Square, his voice trailing off into the distance.
Only Loren and Hyacinthus remained on the battlefield.
"Heh, Loren. Long time no see," Hyacinthus chuckled sinisterly, his tone dripping with mockery. "The grand Great Cleric finally deigns to show his face after hiding for so long? You're already the fifth opponent in this relay match against me."
Hyacinthus counted them off on his fingers.
"Hyacinthus, your madness ends here."
Loren's expression remained steady, seemingly untouched by the provocation.
"Madness? You truly believe I am mad?"
Hyacinthus threw his head back in laughter.
"I only want one thing: to paint all of Brillda red!"
He snapped his head down, his eyes gleaming with lethal focus. Raising his sword before him, the earth began to crack, and an invisible sea of sword aura surged like a tidal wave, sweeping across the entire battlefield.
Within the sea of sword aura, the primal, silver severing power rose, seeking to cut down any living thing in its domain.
"..."
This time, Loren did not evade the sea of sword aura. A sea of thunder burst with brilliant radiance, rising into a tempest of lightning that crested over Hyacinthus.
Electricity danced around his frame while howling winds swirled beneath his feet, weaving together into a blazing white orb of thunder that illuminated the entire sky.
"Exterminate you, tear you to shreds—embrace the end with every fiber of your being!"
Hyacinthus roared, the death-knell rings of sword aura converging around him into a dark-gold vortex.
The barrier groaned, on the verge of collapse under the sheer violence of this collision.
"I will not let you harm another innocent life," Loren declared, holding his ground.
"Life itself is utterly meaningless. But your death will be extraordinarily meaningful—because it will bring me joy."
Hyacinthus brandished his dark-gold blade, whipping up a tidal surge of deathly energy.
Thunder and sword aura collided violently between heaven and earth. Two diametrically opposed powers sought to swallow each other whole, cloaking the battlefield in an incandescent lattice of blinding white and pitch black.
The radiance was so intense it threatened to incinerate all existence.
The scales of victory tipped back and forth.
At times the thunder gained the upper hand, making the earth shudder; at others, death surged forward, swallowing all vital energy in its path.
Beyond the crystal canopy.
Watching this apocalyptic spectacle, everyone grew tense, understanding that this was the final duel of the day.
Everything would be decided in this ultimate clash between Loren and Hyacinthus.
Whether the Southern Continent's fate tipped toward survival or annihilation rested entirely on this life-or-death battle of Tier 9 combatants.
"Loren's injuries are visibly worse than Hyacinthus's."
From the moment he had seen Loren earlier, Torriador had thought he looked like a walking corpse.
Loren had only just been dragged back from death's door. After enduring such an exhausting slugfest, if not for sheer willpower keeping him upright, he would have remained unconscious even after treatment.
Hyacinthus, by contrast, had sustained very few truly lethal wounds and had been steadily recovering while being stalled. Aside from the effective damage Sigrid had dealt with Lanqi's assistance, Saron and Torriador had focused almost entirely on running out the clock.
"Dragging this out might not favor Loren. His injuries are too severe, he has already solved the tactical problem before him, and his growth rate is visibly approaching saturation," Saron remarked from where he was receiving treatment, gazing at the center of the battlefield.
It wasn't that Loren was weak—in fact, he was arguably far stronger now than when he had first reached Tier 9. It was simply that his body was operating under an unsustainable overload.
A piercing glare of lightning suddenly flared across the sky, like silver serpents dancing across the night, drawing every eye.
Dead silence fell over the perimeter outside the barrier. Everyone held their breath, unable to look away from the convergence of mana so immense it threatened to breach the barrier itself.
Loren hovered in midair, his black robes billowing in the windless air. His expression was flat, his azure eyes reflecting Hyacinthus's silhouette.
Hyacinthus was battered and bleeding just like Loren, the turbulent elemental force eating away at his body as dark-red blood trickled from his ears and the corners of his eyes.
"Loren, do you really want to die all over again?"
Hyacinthus watched as dazzling light erupted from Loren, pure elemental power radiating from every pore.
Though he felt an unnatural, searing agony—a sensation that was simultaneously scalding heat and biting frost, feeling at once like being carved by blades and dissolved by acid—Hyacinthus held no fear toward spells he had already seen.
"I must defeat you."
At Loren's command, all the elements converged once more into the purest force of natural catastrophe, creating even as they pulverized and unmade everything.
Light particles collided and fluctuated violently in the air, tongues of flame licked high into the heavens, frost spread across space, and the buzzing of shadowy insects solidified into a barricade of chains.
Wind carved a razor-sharp cutting edge in front of Loren, sealing the battlefield behind a tempestuous tidal wave.
"Divine Heavenly Retribution again!"
Far beyond the battlefield, even across the Saint Astri Barrier, all the Tier 8 experts instinctively assumed defensive stances, shielding their eyes from the white glare.
They knew all too well the terrifying might of Divine Heavenly Retribution.
"Loren's only viable play right now is to trade Divine Heavenly Retribution for Imbalance Devourer, then follow up with his next most powerful spell to land a blow and whittle Hyacinthus down, trading mana for blood," Duke Migaya observed, discerning Loren's desperate strategy.
When the elemental forces converged, they reverted to their most primal, natural form—a calamity and punishment handed down by the gods.
As all the elements detonated in unison, they merged into a colossal light of genesis, unleashing a brilliance unseen since the dawn of time.
In an instant, heaven and earth lost their color; the sun and moon dimmed.
All hues were drawn into this single focal point, only to erupt the next second in an explosion of kaleidoscopic radiance that howled outward in all directions, centered on the battlefield.
"Hahahahaha! Kill your own comrades with your own hands!"
Hyacinthus spread his arms with a maniacal laugh. The invisible vortex deployed before him absorbed Divine Heavenly Retribution in its entirety, then redirected it toward the southern face of the Saint Astri Barrier without losing a shred of its momentum.
He knew Loren would move to intercept it.
Sure enough, even as Loren triggered the follow-up elemental domain detonation to strike Hyacinthus, he threw himself in the path of Divine Heavenly Retribution to block it.
This suicidal trade couldn't inflict enough meaningful damage on Hyacinthus, yet it would immediately cause Loren to collapse just as he had before!
However...
Before Hyacinthus's eyes, the Dawn Storm, which had scattered the calamity's radiance, settled around Loren as lightly as a wisp of emerald wind.
The airflow burst into a dazzling, divine-age halo, illuminating the gloomy battlefield like the first light of dawn!
A surging gale erupted from the point of impact, roaring across the battlefield like an awakened beast.
This was no ordinary wind; it was divine-age wind imbued with ancient primordial power.
Wherever it swept, the air turned crisp and vibrant.
The brilliance mirrored the rising sun at dawn, bathing the entire battlefield in crystalline clarity.
Pure, dazzling, and holy, wind and light wove together into an impenetrable barrier that held Loren safely inside. It resembled condensed crystal, ethereal and light, rippling with faint luminescence.
More astonishingly, when Divine Heavenly Retribution struck this barrier, not a speck of its force could reach Loren.
Before this absolute barrier of wind and light, not even a ripple disturbed its surface; like a celestial precipice, it stood immovable and unyielding.
"How...? Loren, how do you still have an absolute immunity? What on earth did you get your hands on?!"
Hyacinthus's expression darkened in an instant.
He realized this wind of immunity could not be interrupted; even if he disrupted a spell linked to it, the trigger remained completely unaffected.
"..."
Loren offered no answer; he held no interest in conversing with an enemy.
The black-robed cleric stood amidst the wind, the river-like golden patterns embroidered across his robes gleaming softly. His light-brown hair drifted slightly in the breeze, yet his dignified bearing remained undisturbed.
And his eyes—those two deep, limpid pools of blue—shone with a compassionate light that struck a chord of awe in everyone watching, no matter how far away they stood.
The destructive might of Divine Heavenly Retribution was shut out entirely by the invisible ward, leaving everything in his immediate vicinity serene and still.
...
At that very moment, in the northern part of the Southern Continent, within the Hutton Kingdom, on the Jera Memorial Square of Ikerite Academy.
All eyes were fixed on the open-air giant screen.
The diffused radiance cast an enchanting, tempestuous hue over the morning.
Bathed in divine-age brilliance, the giant screen had become the undeniable center of the campus. It commanded the attention of every student, swallowing their voices whole as they watched the dazzling crystal screen in rapt silence.
Students perched on the plaza steps held their hands tightly, unable to pull their gazes away.
Their eyes shone with shock, bewilderment, confusion, and raw excitement.
"That's Hell Loren!" a student finally shouted.
Even if there was so much they couldn't fathom, they knew that the Great Cleric Loren in his complete form was back!
The divine light of the wind from the Original Slate forming that immunity field was undeniable proof that this was Loren's wind magic.
A tsunami of cheers and roaring support erupted across Jera Memorial Square.
"What Great Cleric? That's the Holy Emperor!"
The legends were true after all. With so many life-saving spells up his sleeve, no matter how many times Loren was brought down, he would return from hell every single time.
They couldn't grasp the intricacies of a Tier 9 battle; to them, it looked like watching gods wage war.
"Why do the Tier 8 experts maintaining the barrier on the secondary screens still have their brows furrowed?" a student asked, noticing the discrepancy.
What those Tier 8 experts saw was a far clearer, more sobering picture.
If every allied Tier 8 was wearing an expression fraught with worry, it meant the situation was still far from optimistic.
...
"Loren still can't freely use Divine Heavenly Retribution," Duke Migaya said anxiously, pouring his full power into reinforcing the barrier from outside.
Continuing like this, Loren might have the edge on paper, but he had to protect the citizens of Brillda and his allies outside the barrier, whereas Hyacinthus had shifted entirely to reckless attempts at shattering it. Loren's desperate efforts to block him were draining him at an alarming rate.
The devastation unleashed by their battle wouldn't dissipate for a very long time. If the fighting dragged on, it could trigger horrific, irreversible consequences, potentially causing the entire territorial plate to crack and collapse starting right from this epicenter.
If that happened, Botswana Province would turn into a dead zone like the Sea of Calamity dividing the Northern and Southern Continents, uninhabitable for any living soul, and extreme anomalies would spread across the entire Southern Continent.
If they couldn't finish the fight quickly and the barrier gave way, the worst-case scenario would see the plate shatter, Botswana Province of the Creti Empire wiped off the map, and whether any of the Tier 8 combatants at ground zero survived would come down to pure luck—all while Hyacinthus might still slip away.
This was precisely why Loren had repeatedly sought to bring the duel to an immediate close.
"What do we do, then?" Antanas asked.
She knew that trading Divine Heavenly Retribution for Imbalance Devourer just to squeeze in chip damage cost Loren an enormous amount of mana, making it a terrible trade. It was a desperate measure born of his need to accelerate the fight.
And Boss Cat's Dawn Storm could only be used three times at most. Within that tiny window, it was virtually impossible for Loren to defeat Hyacinthus—whose offense, defense, and regeneration had long proved flawless—using only his other spells.
Honk—honk—
A truck horn blared abruptly from behind, cutting off their conversation.
Turning around, they discovered that Frey had pulled up in a massive flatbed truck.
"Lanqi, I found the alchemical beasts you asked for," Frey called out to Lanqi standing below as he brought the truck to a halt, lowering the massive rear cargo hold.
"Good."
Lanqi turned his gaze toward the duel between Loren and Hyacinthus inside the barrier.
His eyes were sharp, carrying the look of someone about to settle the outcome once and for all.
"Torriador, do you have enough energy left to deliver something to the center of the battlefield for me in a moment?" Lanqi asked, turning to Torriador.
"No problem," Torriador replied, checking the tiers of the two alchemical beasts in the truck bed and nodding in confirmation.
Tossing a couple of low-tier alchemical beasts over was child's play for him.
"Alright."
With that, Lanqi began counting down, waiting for the window when Loren could unleash Divine Heavenly Retribution once more.
...
Two minutes of battle felt like two centuries to the combatants inside.
The blades summoned by Hyacinthus endlessly tore through space.
The Heroic Spirit Sword of Cyros in his grasp unleashed simultaneous planar and circular slashes, locking onto Loren with lunging horizontal sweeps.
Loren wove through the slashes.
Three distinct swords plummeted rapidly onto the field once more. Loren resolutely evaded the impact rings they produced, only for Hyacinthus to detonate the ground with planar and linear slashes.
The shockwaves radiating from each sword's impact forced Loren to scramble into their shadows to take cover, knowing any direct hit would be catastrophic.
Yet Hyacinthus's interference magic was beginning to take its toll again, forcing Loren to resort to simpler spells with lower mana costs.
"Loren, your mana is running dry, isn't it? Let's see if you still have the guts to use Divine Heavenly Retribution!"
Hyacinthus was utterly convinced that Loren's recovery rate had slowed significantly.
All he had to do was charge toward the Saint Astri Barrier, and Loren would be forced to intercept him, exposing fatal openings in the process.
Loren was choosing to commit more mana to offense, aiming for mutual destruction rather than expending precious mana to protect his life.
"..."
Loren remained silent, watching for an opportunity to deploy Divine Heavenly Retribution again.
Suddenly...
"Professor Loren, use Divine Heavenly Retribution!"
Lanqi's voice echoed through a spatial portal, accompanied by an alchemical beast shaped like a silver sphere being dropped through.
At Loren's command, all the elements converged in an instant, transforming once more into the purest force of natural catastrophe.
Without a second thought, Loren unleashed Divine Heavenly Retribution exactly as Lanqi had instructed.
In this moment, trusting Lanqi was the only path.
Every time he placed his faith in Lanqi, it had proved correct; Lanqi was their greatest command tower.
"You two bastards can meet your doom together!"
Hyacinthus laughed maniacally, directing his fury not only at Loren, but at the white-robed pope who had been causing trouble from the very beginning.
This blunder would only accelerate Loren's defeat.
It was nothing more than two low-tier alchemical beasts—the outer silver-shelled beast was covered in incantations resembling crawling black centipedes, rendering it indestructible to protect the creature inside.
Yet even the bulky beast concealed within was merely Tier 5; there was no conceivable way it could impact a Tier 9 battlefield.
Hyacinthus had seen through the trick from the start.
The white-robed pope was nothing more than a trickster who relied on cheap deceptions.
So long as he refused to bite, he would never fall into any trap.
As the catastrophic might of Divine Heavenly Retribution roared forward, the black incantations on the silver shell faded rapidly. The fragile alchemical beast instantly fractured under the shockwave, causing the deep-purple beast inside to burst apart as well.
Only at this moment did Hyacinthus and Loren finally see what the thing actually was.
[Scavenger Alchemical Beast]
[Category: Alchemical Beast]
[Grade: White Common]
[Attribute: Alchemy]
[Tier: 5]
[Effect: Capable of devouring and decomposing filth to purify city sewers.]
[Note: A beneficial alchemical beast that purifies cities, but in a certain sense, it is a modernized septic tank.]
Facing a storm of Scavenger Alchemical Beast chunks, Hyacinthus was bewildered, instinctively holding his breath in overwhelming revulsion.
Then, suddenly, his gears began to turn.
Hyacinthus was abruptly faced with a choice.
Either activate Imbalance Devourer and eat shit...
Or keep Imbalance Devourer closed and eat a Divine Heavenly Retribution.
Whichever he chose, it was the ultimate torment.
In that single second, Hyacinthus blew a fuse, his face turning beet-red with fury.
Chapter 853