'My body died once,' I thought, gritting my teeth as the lingering pain of the soul wound pulsed through me.
At Immortal-rank, bodily regeneration was a given. Flesh could be torn apart and restored, bones could be shattered and reformed. But the soul—that was different.
A wound to the soul was far more dangerous, far more insidious. It was the kind of damage that ignored the body's natural resilience. And it was nearly impossible for anyone below Radiant-rank to inflict.
Vorgath had done it.
His axe had carved through my True Domain, through my very existence, as though it were nothing.
'He stole my movement.'
I clenched my fists, my body weak but my mind racing. The fifth movement. The attack I had only just begun to perfect, the technique I had yet to even name. He devoured it.
The Infernal Armis had twisted my intent, merged it with his Axe Unity, and turned it against me.
My own power, used to break me.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
"Rachel," I managed, my voice hoarse. My vision swam, but I could still see her—her sapphire eyes full of concern, her hands glowing with divine light as she poured her healing into me.
"You're alright, Arthur," she whispered, relief softening her voice. Then, before I could say another word, she kissed my forehead.
"I—we—promised we would fight by your side."
Her warmth grounded me, but the battle was far from over.
"Don't worry," Cecilia said from nearby, her voice steady, reassuring. "There's someone powerful holding him back right now. So just heal."
I exhaled, my body still aching. My vision blurred, and the world slipped into darkness once again.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Seraphina's Teal Sunset was crushed.
Her astral energy, her mastery over ice and swordplay—none of it was enough. Her variation of Mount Hua's sacred art, one she had painstakingly crafted, was simply overpowered.
It wasn't that she was weak. Far from it.
But Vorgath Ironmaw, even without the Infernal Armis, was more than strong enough to defeat her. And now, with it—in its Immortal Slayer state—he was beyond anything she could handle.
Seraphina stumbled back, her blade trembling in her grip.
And then, more plum blossoms filled the air.
They drifted between them, carried by a sudden wind, swirling like a storm of petals.
Vorgath scowled. His grip on the Ruin Axe tightened. With a single motion, he swung again, his molten crown flaring, his infernal power surging.
But this time, the blossoms held.
A new presence stepped forward.
"Don't disgrace Mount Hua, sister," came a calm, commanding voice.
Sun Zenith.
His long black hair was tied loosely, strands falling over his shoulders as his sword shone—not with ice, but with radiant violet astral energy. His aura burned with an intensity that made even Vorgath pause.
And then—he moved.
With a single step, he vanished.
And in the next instant, his Crimson Sunset exploded forward.
It was a different level of attack. A refined, absolute execution of Mount Hua's Divine Art. Seraphina's Teal Sunset had been powerful, a product of her own mastery and ingenuity. But this— this was the original technique, wielded by a true master.
Sun was not just an Immortal-rank swordsman trying to reach Radiant. He was already there.
His blade cut through the space between them, carving a path of sheer destruction.
Under normal circumstances, even Vorgath Ironmaw would have struggled against it. Even he would have needed to acknowledge its power.
Normally.
But these were not normal circumstances.
Vorgath grinned, his molten crown burning even brighter.
He was no longer merely Vorgath Ironmaw, the Axe King.
Now, he was Vorgath Ironmaw, the chosen of the Infernal Armis.
And for the first time since the battle began, he laughed.
A deep, thunderous sound that echoed through the battlefield like the tolling of a war drum.
Then, he raised his axe.
And Vorgath answered.
His molten crown flared, the infernal energy surging around him like a living storm. His Ruin Axe, now an extension of the Infernal Armis, moved with terrifying force, carving through the air with absolute destruction.
Sun Zenith exhaled, his grip tightening around his sword. "Right. Against a monster like you, Crimson Sunset is nothing, isn't it?"
His stance shifted in an instant.
Gone was the balance, the measured grace of the third movement. Now, he abandoned form entirely.
His body tensed, ignoring the backlash of his own reckless momentum. Normally, an attack of this caliber would have shattered his own muscles, but Sun's Gift of the Unbreakable Vajra Body absorbed the strain completely. His body, honed beyond mortal limits, became an unyielding vessel for his sword.
Fourth movement of the Violet Mist Divine Art: Natural Paradox.
This was not just a technique. It was Mount Hua's pinnacle, the absolute peak of their art.
A movement forged from contradiction—a strike that defied retaliation, a slash that both existed and did not, a paradox that shattered reality itself.
It met Vorgath's axe head-on.
The air fractured. The molten energy of the Infernal Armis crashed into the unnatural storm of violet plum blossoms, the two forces locking in an unfathomable collision of might and technique.
And then—the axe slowed.
For the first time since his rebirth, Vorgath's attack was stopped.
The battlefield was swallowed by a cascade of violet petals, drowning out everything in their wake. The world turned silent.
And then—
BOOM.
The silence shattered.
Sun Zenith's body exploded, torn apart at the cellular level, his very essence obliterated under the sheer magnitude of the clash.
But before his form disintegrated entirely, his voice rang out, calm yet filled with admiration.
"Incredible."
The petals dissipated, revealing Vorgath still standing.
His molten crown burned even brighter, his expression filled not with rage, but with exhilaration.
"Hah!" Vorgath let out a bark of laughter, wiping the blood from his lips. "You really are something, swordsman."
Sun's scattered remains shimmered, the energy of his Unbreakable Vajra Body already pulling him back together. His limbs reformed, his flesh knitting back over his bones. His breathing was ragged, but his lips curled into a smirk.
"Seriously. You're a fucking monster." He exhaled sharply, his regenerated hand tightening around his sword once more.
But before Vorgath could strike again—
A new force entered the fray.
A storm of spells rained down upon him.
Cecilia's wind-infused magic tore through the battlefield in a violent cyclone, sharp as a thousand blades.
Rin's dual-casting of black mana and mana spiraled together, creating a vortex of destruction that crashed against him in a howling maelstrom.
Vorgath gritted his teeth as the onslaught forced him back, his Ruin Axe carving through the magic with each swing.
"They can't win," Rachel whispered, her voice trembling as she poured her light magic into Arthur. Her hands glowed softly, but her mind was clouded with doubt. No matter how much healing she gave him, the battle raged on beyond her reach, and the tide was turning.
Sun Zenith was brilliant—a genius of the Mount Hua Sect, a warrior who had reached Radiant-rank through sheer determination and mastery. But he lacked what others at his level possessed. Unlike Charlotte Alaric or Valen Ashbluff, Sun carried no Legendary-grade artifact to bolster his strength. He fought with skill and grit alone, and though it was extraordinary, it wasn't enough.
Not against this.
Not against Vorgath Ironmaw, whose molten crown now blazed with the power of the Infernal Armis, whose very existence had transcended mortality with the Immortal Slayer ability. The Axe King wasn't merely strong—he was unrelenting, his every move a manifestation of carnage itself.
Seraphina, Cecilia, and Rin fought alongside Sun, their combined strength overwhelming by any mortal standard. Together, they could bring even legends to their knees. Against Valen Ashbluff or Archmage Charlotte, they would have emerged victorious.
But this Vorgath, this calamity, was beyond them.
Rachel clenched her teeth as her gaze fell on Arthur's pale face. His breathing was steady now, the soul wounds slowly mending under her relentless healing. Yet she felt her chest tighten, a deep ache gnawing at her as her thoughts spiraled.
Could Arthur beat him?
Her heart twisted at the question. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the flow of her magic. Arthur had done impossible things before. Time and again, he'd overcome insurmountable odds, proving himself as humanity's most remarkable warrior.
But this time… this time, the gap seemed too wide.
Arthur had only just broken through to peak Immortal-rank a few days ago, forcing his body and soul to their limits. He needed time—time he didn't have. Reaching Radiant-rank so soon was impossible, even for him.
Her thoughts shattered as a sudden roar of engines filled the air. Rachel's head snapped upward, her breath catching in her throat.
High above, aircrafts streaked through the sky, their engines blazing like falling stars as they hurtled toward the battlefield.
"What—" Rachel gasped, blinking in disbelief.
"Rachel." A voice grounded her, familiar and steady. She turned to see Jin, his dark mana faintly swirling around him. His face was grim, his eyes fixed on the chaos unfolding beyond.
"Jin," she breathed, nodding to him, though her hands never stopped their healing work.
"Father and Archmage Charlotte are holding back the Cult Leaders of the Order of the Fallen Flame and the Umbravale Covenant," Jin explained, his tone clipped, efficient. "But now, the Western continent is fully mobilizing. This is no longer a battle."
Rachel frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This is a war," Jin said, his voice low and sharp. He raised a hand, pointing toward the horizon.
Rachel focused her mana into her eyes, enhancing her vision. What she saw made her stomach drop.
Far beyond the golden remnants of Arthur's shattered Domain, hordes of enemies surged across the border. Ogres, orcs, and humans, their bodies warped and augmented by black mana, charged in unison. Their roars filled the air, a dreadful harmony of violence and destruction.
Rachel's lips parted in horror. "An army…"
"And Vorgath," Jin said grimly, "is no longer just a man. He's a disaster." His dark eyes flickered with unease. "No, worse than that. He's a calamity."
Rachel's chest tightened further. Her gaze flicked back to Arthur, his face still pale but peaceful, as though unaware of the storm building outside.
The First Calamity, Vorgath Ironmaw, had awakened.