Uncaring for anything else than the enemies in front of him, Jhorn was getting ready to demonstrate what Genocide Knight was capable of, ordering the soldiers to retreat, he stared ahead at the mass of darkness the black knights formed.
The soldiers had been a great help to allow to get to the point where enough death had occured to allow him to take this small army on by himself, the soldiers of Heilig were strong and determined but most of the deaths fueling the champion had been their own, they simply didn't match up to the mysterious knights.
Even then, the knights still held their formation perfectly despite the repeated hammering from the opposing force, the first step to winning this battle was to shatter it.
After the soldiers pulled back, Jhorn released what he had been bottling up, his bloodlust increased immensely in an instant, it was almost a physical force, pushing back everything around him and striking fear in the hearts of his foes, normally that was the case.
The black knights didn't know fear like everyone else did, they registered the rise in threat of the champion but didn't care, they were going to follow up with what they had to do.
Unlike the more individual creations of the Godfather, they were mass produced and cheap, they held no value as well as little freedom of thoughts.
To determine the newfound strength of thee champion precisely, a single knight stepped forward, Genocide Knight slammed his sword in the direction of the knight, caring little about the angle for it didn't matter, the knight attempted to block the strike with his shield, only for the sword to go through it like a warhammer and chopping off his arm without any regard for the armor hidden beneath the dark coat.
Barely bleeding at all from the horrific wound, the knight swung his sword as well as he would have had he been uninjured.
Offence and defence were melded together as Jhorn punched the blade, shattering it like glass before impacting with the knight's helmet, it didn't shatter but his skull was crushed on impact and his body flung back, he twitched a few more times, immediately attempting to get back up but soon died.
With a thunderous upward slash, the champion tore their formation in half, the knight abandoned the orderly tactic and surrounded the champion like a mob of bandits would.
Showing little courtesy but impeccable coordination, as many knights as was possible attack at every instant.
Genocide Knight ripped through as many as possible as he felt hits struck against his own armor and cuts forming on unprotected parts of his body, it was no use though, even as the black knights overwhelmed him and tried to slash his tendons to prevent him from moving or attacking, another aspect of the Genocide Knight showed itself.
He regenerated from his wounds rapidly and each kill restored some of his stamina and with every kills, his power grew even further, allowing him to slice and dice even more.
There was no battle of attrition possible against him now and even as he started losing his mind a bit, his battle senses remained sharp, no hits that could be avoided would be taken.
Witnessing his prowess, the interwined minds of the black knights was filled with many thoughts, some speaking observations and others making suggestions.
'He can't be approached, restraining him is not possible'
'Even while his tendons are cut, he doesn't stop attacking at all'
'His regeneration is too quick, he doesn't lose much blood'
'He already lost a lot still and is still going, he must be restoring it faster as well'
'Is dismemberment possible?'
'Negative, his bones are too though for our current levels of strength'
'He protects his head still, no ways of blinding him or damaging his brain seem possible at the moment'
The black knights attempted to find a way to put him down as their numbers slowly diminished, still, it seemed as though there was no end to them.
Even of they couldn't find a way of defeating him, they were still adaptating to his attacks, intercepting his swings before they reached a maximum strength and twisting their bodies to keep his weapon stuck for some time.
Genocide Knight would had sustained so much damage that without his absurd regeneration, he would have died from having his HP depleted multiple times.
His capability to regain stamina was also a life saver, the moment they had realised it wasn't a possibility to instantly kill him, they had started going for less damaging but much less risky attacks.
Seeing this perfect teamwork and coordination and the strength each of them held, Jhorn couldn't help but remark upon it.
'Are they really the basic soldiers of the sins? Are those their lowest soldiers? The small fry has no right being so strong!'
He threw a devastating uppercut at a knight, snapping his neck instantly and even so, he still went for a last attack, the ones that were done for were the most dangerous, once they knew they were going to reach their utility, they would simply abandon all preservation, normal since they were pretty much already dead.
This one attempted to grapple him but was swiftly pushed back with a kick to the chest, putting something in between the champion and some of the black knights, but not for long as the body, alongside everything he had possessed went up in smoke.
The faint dark smoke quickly disappeared, the few whose body hadn't disappeared where those that had died in places that would make things more difficult for Jhorn, even in death, they maintained pristine cooperation.
All of a sudden, Jhorn distintively noticed the approached of something stronger, it was relatively simple with his heightened senses at the moment and due to the fact that the black knights all had the same presence and exact same level of strength, anything diverting from that would stick out like a sore thumb.
Synced, the black knights surrounding him stepped back and allowed more space for the stronger knights that had just arrived.
Usually, in such situations, it was expected for the guy that had just arrived to say something, as cheesy as it may be, rolling in a fight without a word wasn't very common, at the very least some sort of provocation.
But it seemed as though the black knights truly despised inefficiency as the slightly different knight just immediately attacked once in reach and without barely even a second passing, the relentless assault from all sides had started again.
Only that this time, Jhorn had to allot nearly all of his attention to the stronger one, he carried a sword and shield, the same as all the other ones, the only visual difference being that a small portion of his helm was charred black, a clear indicator of what was to come.
With a slight nudge of his wrist, his blade caught aflame, carrying a fire that seemed willing to assault nothing but the champion, wiggling its plasma tentacles toward him.
'Let us see if fire can prevent his regeneration'
The knight was simply stronger as well, it reflected even in his equipment as if it was part of his body, the knight contested the champion in brawn and by taking his attention, he forbid him from amassing more power.
Locked in a clash of blades, Jhorn expected to see something beyond the visor, a look of hate, anger, pain perhaps but he saw nothing.
The black knights simply didn't have emotions or feelings.