"Is it really this exciting?"
Harry's voice broke through the stillness, his words carrying an awe that reverberated in the air. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the battle unfolding before him, a collision of such sheer violence that it left him breathless.
The scene before him was nothing short of staggering. The immense power of a knight, one capable of crushing ordinary mortals with ease, seemed insignificant in comparison. A knight could defeat an army single-handedly, their strength enough to make them legends. But this, this was something else entirely.
The great knights, those paragons of martial prowess, could stride across the battlefield, taking down hundreds of men with little more than their sword arm. Their power made them figures of myth and song. Yet here, in front of Harry, even they would be mere ants beneath the shadows of the true gods.
Two phantoms, not of this world, stood locked in an almost cosmic struggle, their presence enough to twist reality itself. The very air trembled, as though the sky itself was a thin fabric being stretched to its limits. Each clash between the two gods sent ripples of destruction through the surrounding landscape. Buildings tall enough to scrape the heavens crumbled as if they were made of sand, and the earth beneath began to shudder and crack. A monstrous whirlwind howled from the sky, sweeping everything in its path into chaos. It felt like the world itself was caught in a symphony of destruction, each note a violent crash.
And yet, these were *only shadows* mere echoes of the gods' true power. Harry couldn't help but shiver as he realized just how small he was in the face of this magnitude. If this was what their fractured, imprisoned selves could do, what was the full extent of their might?
Both gods were trapped in their own prisons, one bound by the blood moon, the other confined within the endless dark realm. Neither was free, neither at full strength. And still, this overwhelming power surged forth.
It was an unbelievable sight.
Harry stood motionless, his face calm, but his heart was racing. The sheer force of it all left him shaken, even if he didn't show it. His mind was awash with awe. This was the first time he'd witnessed such raw power since his arrival in this new world, and it filled him with a mixture of terror and longing.
He muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is this what it means to be a god?"
Standing there, bathed in the ripples of destruction, Harry's heart beat faster. He felt an odd kind of longing, an insatiable hunger. Most men would be paralyzed with fear in the face of such destructive forces. They would tremble, wonder if they might be torn apart by the sheer energy of the battle. But not Harry.
He wasn't afraid.
He was *captivated*.
For all his power, for all his titles, he knew that he had reached the end of the path he had walked. Becoming a Great Knight had been his goal, the pinnacle of the knightly order. There was no higher title, no further rank to achieve. In the world of Dawn, the Great Knight was as high as one could go. But Harry was not content to stand at the peak of his mountain.
No. He wanted more.
He *needed* more.
This was his opportunity, his chance to seize something far greater. He had traveled through time, after all. Why not seize the power of the gods themselves? Or perhaps even surpass them?
The wind howled again, and the earth groaned beneath the weight of the two divine phantoms locked in battle. The noise was deafening now, a rumbling explosion of sound that made the very air vibrate with energy. And then, without warning, the ground in the center of Malian City cracked wide open.
Harry's eyes snapped upward, his senses sharp.
The crack was enormous, an unearthly chasm that seemed to split the very fabric of reality itself. His heart quickened. There was something coming.
The battle between the two gods was far from decided. Neither seemed to have the upper hand. Both were powerful, their struggles evenly matched. The one bound within the blood moon, the other within the realm of darkness, they were both confined in their own ways, their true potential only a distant promise.
For now, it seemed, the struggle was at a standstill.
But this, in a strange way, was good for Harry.
As the battle dragged on, the more time passed, the more energy would be drained from the pool in front of him. A pool that was already beginning to empty. If the two gods continued to fight like this, it would only be a matter of time before their strength, contained and contained again, was completely exhausted.
And when that happened...
Harry would be ready.
He could feel it, deep inside. The winds of change were blowing. He had waited for this moment *his* moment, when the gods' power could be his to claim.
The countdown had begun.
Up ahead, the Blood Moon God seemed to sense the change in the air, her shadow stirring with increasing agitation. With a roar that shook the very fabric of reality, she surged forward, pushing against the dark god, attempting to squeeze him out of the space they both occupied.
But her attempt was futile.
Despite the Blood Moon God's overwhelming strength, she was powerless in this struggle. Even though her power surpassed the dark god's, this was a battle she could not win. Harry and the dark god were like two nails, driven deep into the heart of this place, locked in a constant exchange, draining one another of their essence.
Each moment they lingered like this, the energy drained faster, like a wound bleeding out its life force. No matter how strong or thick one's health might be, constant bleeding would eventually leave them empty.
Harry's gaze remained fixed ahead, watching as the last of the blood in the pool evaporated, leaving behind nothing but a thin, barely noticeable layer clinging to the bottom. The once-vast reservoir of energy had been drained, sucked dry by the endless conflict between him and the dark god.
The transformation within Harry was profound.
If anyone were to stumble upon him now, they would hardly recognize the man who had once walked through time and space. Standing there, Harry had grown several meters in height; four, maybe five, and his body was now a towering figure, reminiscent of a small giant.
His muscles bulged beneath his skin, his limbs thick and powerful. Even the blood that pulsed through his veins had changed, taking on a faint golden hue as if something ancient and primal was awakening inside him. A complex, arcane symbol marred his forehead, a mark of transformation, as though something was ready to burst forth from him.
His form was still human, though just barely. There was enough of his old self left for his closest allies, Sangmu and the others; to recognize him, to know that this creature was still Harry, though he was no longer quite the same.
The power inside him was immense, so overwhelming that it nearly drowned him in its force. He could feel it surging through every fiber of his being, filling him with a raw, natural confidence. It was as if he could do anything, as if he could knock down a building with a single punch, or rend the earth itself with the sheer might of his will.
The absorption of life force had transformed him. Under normal circumstances, such an influx of power would have caused his body to rupture, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity. But the dark god's influence had somehow altered the very essence of his being, forcing his transformation. He was no longer simply a mortal man, nor a mere knight. Something *other* had taken root inside him, reshaping his very existence.
The ritual was nearly complete, and Harry could feel it, the final moments were upon him.
Meanwhile, in Malian City, the survivors, those who had witnessed the spectacle from a distance, looked up in unison as something incredible unfolded in the sky. With a sharp, anguished cry, the Blood Moon in the heavens began to fade, its light flickering like a dying star.
The ritual that had brought the Blood Moon God so close to breaking free from her prison was now collapsing, the power dissipating as the seal hidden within the moon took effect once more. The Blood Moon God, her efforts thwarted, was dragged back into her domain, unable to complete her revival.
The survivors of Malian City could only watch in stunned silence as the Blood Moon God vanished from their sight, her plans shattered. The catastrophe they had feared was stopped, for now.
But for Harry, the real trouble was just beginning.
The Blood Moon God might have been forced to retreat, but the dark god remained. Harry stood motionless, his gaze still fixed upward, sensing the ominous presence above him. The dark area in the sky had not dissipated. Instead, it seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, and within that black expanse, two blood-red eyes opened, their gaze fixed squarely upon him.
"Mortal," the voice boomed, deep and resonant, filling Harry's mind with an overwhelming presence. "I am pleased with you."
The words echoed through his thoughts, a flood of communication that he could not ignore. It was not just a voice; this was an intrusion, a message that filled every corner of his consciousness.
Harry raised an eyebrow, a small, wry smile creeping onto his lips. "It seems you've gained something from this as well," he replied coolly, his voice steady despite the terrifying weight of the gaze upon him. "Congratulations. You're one step closer to full recovery."
The dark god's voice rumbled with amusement, the satisfaction clear in its tone. "Indeed, the Blood Moon God's power was meant to fuel her revival. But now, that energy is mine. A... *fortunate* turn of events."
For the Blood Moon God, the setback was catastrophic; her carefully laid plans were torn asunder, her power stolen before she could fully awaken. But for the dark god? It was a gift, an unexpected boon that had fallen into his lap without him having to lift a finger.
"You've helped me more than you know," the dark god continued, his tone dripping with a cold satisfaction. "This will make my return all the sweeter."
Harry's eyes narrowed as the dark god's words sank in. The struggle between them was far from over, but now he understood: this god had no intention of simply vanishing. He was here to stay, and it seemed he had plans of his own.
And for Harry, those plans were only a prelude to the power that now surged through him, a power he wasn't quite sure how to control, but one that promised to make the path ahead anything but predictable.