Chapter 426: The Savior of Death (2)

Tesranach could only be described as a force of nature after returning to his true body. His massive form was large enough to blot out both sky and earth, and it filled their vision.

“Damn. He really is huge.” Clicking his tongue, Varos leapt forward.

Reversal Blade, Desolation.

Serati, too, drew out a long blade of crimson twilight flame.

Twilight Swordsmanship, Evening Shadow!

The two charged at the massive dragon from either side, tightening their grip on the aura blades. Calling them sides of the dragon was generous. It was more accurate to say they were climbing separate mountain paths up a massive peak. Tesranach's sheer size made anything else absurd.

But Varos and Serati possessed monstrous physical abilities, capable of leaping up cliffs dozens of meters high. They kicked off buildings and the air as they closed the distance to Tesranach in an instant and unleashed their strikes.

Two aura blades, each over ten meters long, carved across the dragon’s scales. Sparks flew as their energy traced long arcs across the vast surface of his body. But that was all. It failed to deal any meaningful damage.

The opponent was simply too massive. Even with their aura blades stretched to the limit, they could not cut beyond the skin. A ten-meter blade wielded against a five-hundred meter dragon was like swinging a four centimeter carving knife at a two-meter beast. At

Against a five-hundred-meter dragon, a ten-meter blade was like swinging a four-centimeter carving knife at a two-meter beast. At best, it might draw blood, but dealing a fatal wound was out of the question.

Tesranach's grand voice echoed across the sky. “Pathetic.”

A gale of pitch-black erupted and surged forth, engulfing both Varos and Serati. The two were flung away helplessly by the storm, but managed to stay standing. Even as blood spilled from their wounds, they forced their bodies back under control and landed on nearby rooftops.

Being so enormous, Tesranach also found it difficult to snuff out the lives of such small humans in an instant. It was akin to a human trying to swat an insect out of the sky.

“You still live?”

His follow-up attack came immediately. The sky roared. Countless bolts of lightning and torrents of flame rained down like a storm. Amid the relentless bombardment, Karnak’s group could do nothing but scatter and evade in all directions.

Even so, Karnak seized a brief opening to launch a counterattack. “Black Meteor Shower!”

A barrage of cursed meteors struck across a vast radius of hundreds of meters. Given Tesranach's size, most of the attacks hit their mark. However, it did nothing.

“This much is nothing.” Tesranach did not even bother to dodge. He simply trusted in his dragon scales and absorbed the blows at ease.

Every meteor of darkness shattered uselessly against his scales, scattering without effect. Then came another overwhelming bombardment. Varos sent a transmission while frantically dashing through the shattered streets.

—What do we do now, young master? Don’t you have some kind of plan?

—I don’t know either!

For now, survival came first. That much was certain. As long as Karnak lived, Tesranach could not become the god of death, and the world would not be consumed by death. But how were they supposed to survive this?

Karnak’s face grew paler by the moment. There’s really no way out of this.

***

Dreltein laughed in exhilaration. “At last, my lord’s will has been fulfilled!”

The dark world tree had taken root. Tesranach had revealed his true form. Everything had fallen into place, and there was no longer any need for worry.

All that remained was to complete the small task before him. “Disappear, my past self.”

Dreltein extended his sword. Brilliant golden light tore through the air again and again.

Kretas Swordsmanship, Snowflower Storm!

Drel responded in kind, drawing forth his silver aura.

Kretas Swordsmanship, Snowflower Storm!

It was the same man wielding the same technique, yet there was an undeniable difference in their levels. The golden blade of light carved a long gash across Drel’s side.

Drel staggered back with a pained groan. His face turned pale. Another wound. Milia, in her angelic form, rushed forward urgently.

—Sir Drel!

She tried to cast a healing spell, but Dreltein’s aura struck first. “Begone!” ℯ

Overwhelmed by the surging golden aura, Milia was forced to retreat without even completing her divine magic.

Dreltein sneered. “Difficult to kill, perhaps, but removing you from the fight is easy enough.”

This was due to Karnak having set her angelic movements to automatically respond to Dreltein’s attacks. Whenever an attack came, she would evade according to preset patterns. In moments of danger, evasion took priority over her own will. From Dreltein’s perspective, a few well-placed swings were enough to control her movements.

As a result, Milia was now barely contributing to the battle. At this point, it was essentially a one-on-one duel between the two Drelteins. And the outcome of a battle between a martial king and a silver knight was all too obvious.

“How long do you think you can last?” With a cold sneer, Dreltein’s assault grew even fiercer.

Blood-soaked, Drel clenched his teeth. “Y-you... at the very least, I’ll make sure that you...!”

A dazzling exchange of offense and defense continued. Gold and silver intertwined, unleashing shockwaves without end. The gap between him and a martial king was vast. Drel was pushed back relentlessly.

Moments came again and again where death seemed to knock at the door. And yet, he did not fall. As he pressed the attack, Dreltein’s expression gradually hardened. Even if the opponent was himself, this made no sense.

Logically, there was no way he could have endured for this long. He had no attachment to his physical body, unlike Malican Thun. There was no reason for him to hold back, and he wasn’t.

Dreltein couldn’t help but wonder. How is he lasting this long?

In truth, Drel himself harbored the same question. How am I holding on this well?

He had already brushed against death countless times. If not for sheer fortune, his head would have been severed over ten times already. It was truly strange. Once or twice, it could be brushed off as luck. However, if it was happening more than a dozen times, it was no longer luck. It was something else.

There were, of course, explanations he could offer. Both of them were one and the same—Dreltein Thelix. Because of that, they could naturally read each other’s techniques and the flow of aura. Drel had escaped several crises by barely reading his opponent’s movements in critical moments.

But the same was true for future Dreltein. If conditions were equal, then the future Dreltein, a martial king, should have had an overwhelming advantage over his less experienced past self.

Then how is he lasting this long?

***

The fallen martial king of the future brought his blade down.

Delphiad Swordsmanship, Strike of the Thunder King!

A sharp golden flash surged forward along erratic currents of lightning. Leven tried desperately to counter, but he could not hold it back. He was blown backwards. He spat out blood before wiping his mouth with a curse. “Damn it...”

The future Leven seemed intrigued as he watched his past self. “Strange. You endure remarkably well. I don’t recall being this capable at that age.”

Provocation no longer worked to shake his composure. The future Leven ignored everything that was said and focused solely on killing him.

Golden aura surged around the enemy, and Leven resisted with all his strength. It was useless. The gap between the golden blade and the silver blade was far greater than he had imagined. At this rate, he would lose. He would die.

Forcing down the rising fear, he fought on. Again and again, he brushed past death. Somehow, through sheer luck, he managed to survive. Just barely?

No. His wounds were not as severe as they should have been. Though he was covered in blood, most of it was only superficial. But why?

Was it truly just luck? Could such a thing happen, even against a martial king, through luck alone? He had no time to dwell. Another attack from his future self was already upon him.

Delphiad Swordsmanship, Sky Cleaving Slash!

This time, he barely evaded the attack. Thanks to luck, he was able to read the opponent’s flow. And thanks to luck, the opponent had allowed him to read it.

Allowed... me to read it?

The future Leven’s assault continued. Each strike carried the brilliant golden aura of a martial king. Leven understood why he could move like that. It was because he was a martial king. Because he had reached the realm of the golden blade.

But why was he moving like that? For whose sake? The answer came to Leven in a moment of clarity. “Ah!”

His future self was undoubtedly corrupted. He stood atop the peak that Leven himself was meant to climb, and he looked down with arrogant mockery. Yet at the same time, through that mockery, he was showing him where that peak lay.

—Look. This is where you must stand.

In that instant, realization struck like lightning. He let out a powerful shout, and a terrifying surge erupted from Leven’s entire body. A radiant brilliance wrapped around him and burst outward. An overwhelming pressure began to crush everything around him.

No way. The future Leven stepped back in shock. “Golden aura?”

There was no doubt. It was the blazing golden aura of he who reigned supreme. This was the awakening of a martial king.

***

“H-how is this possible?”

Breaking through a wall in the middle of battle was not particularly strange. After all, the future Leven Strauss himself had reached the realm of a martial king while standing on the brink of death.

But why now? Could things really align this perfectly?

Leven looked at his future self. A calm voice flowed from his lips. The contempt that had once been there was gone, replaced by a respectful tone. “You taught me.”

Leven had already reached the threshold. He had only been one step short. And when, right before his eyes, his future self was already walking the path he himself had to take. What could be a more perfect answer than that?

“You were the one who passed this sword on to me.”

The flickering blade of a martial king was raised toward another martial king. Thrown into confusion, the future Leven stammered. “What do you—?”

Leven gazed at him with sorrowful eyes. Why didn’t I realize it?

His soul had already been dominated. His body had already been remade. In his future self, nothing remained of the hero of humanity he once was. And yet, his unconscious had still been resisting.

Why didn’t I see it until now?

The future Leven had been screaming in the smallest choices in sword paths, and the subtlest movements woven into the flow of battle. Through them, he had been shouting to his past self again and again.

—This is the path to the realm of the golden blade. Learn it, and defeat me. Cut down this body and save the world!

Leven Strauss, the Martial King of Delphiad, once hailed as a hero of humanity, had been unconsciously guiding his past self without realizing it.

It was only that Leven had been too foolish and slow to notice.

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Flustered, the future Leven swung his sword again. Brilliant light scattered into countless slashes that poured down.

Leven stared at them all indifferently. Now that he understood his opponent’s unconscious actions, there was no longer any reason to fear him.

“Damn it!” Letting out a faint curse, Leven stepped forward. “So I really was a hero after all!”

Following the path of the sword revealed by the hero’s unconscious, he cut through the corrupted body before him.

Delphiad Swordsmanship, The Sword King’s Strike.

The future Leven suddenly froze. M-my body... won’t move?

In that moment, laughter echoed. It was the sound of his own laughter, ringing out with exhilaration from somewhere deep, far within. Hahahahahaha!

A golden blade of light split through his heart.