The slavers' base was now a battlefield in ruins. The wreckage of collapsed structures, scattered flames, and debris covered the chaotic scene. At the center of it all, Rygar stood his ground, his eyes fixed on the enemies encircling him. His breathing was heavy—not from genuine exhaustion but as part of a convincing act. He had already noticed Gallus's extreme caution and needed to feign fatigue in everything he did to lure the man out.
He raised his sword, Tsukikage, its blade still emanating golden flames with each strike. Gradually, he was conjuring a tornado around himself, lifting the surrounding debris and causing a momentary uproar among the slavers. The wind roared, scattering shards of wood and metal into the air. But just as the whirlwind seemed to reach full strength, something changed. The flames enveloping his blade vanished abruptly, and the tornado began to falter, its winds becoming erratic and failing before causing any significant damage.
While pretending his mana was depleting, Rygar secretly channeled power into his left hand, preparing to unleash an extremely powerful Freezing Nova.
The standoff dragged on, and Gallus showed no signs of appearing. Rygar was already at a "disadvantage," fighting without magic against the warriors. Luckily, his superior speed allowed him to maintain the stalemate.
He's not taking the bait. I need something more, Rygar thought, adjusting his posture and purposefully letting one shoulder droop as though he were exhausted.
He raised his hand and attempted to conjure an earthen wall, something he often did to shield himself in close combat. This time, however, the magic faltered. The wall cracked and crumbled almost immediately.
The surrounding warriors attacked him with ferocity, while the Black Troll grew impatient, its massive axe slamming against the ground with a deep, menacing thud.
This isn't enough… I need something more drastic, Rygar thought. He realized he'd have to take some damage to truly convince them he was at his limit.
Taking a calculated risk, Rygar moved explosively. He lunged at one of the nearest warriors, a burly man wielding a greatsword. With a single swift motion, Rygar deflected the blade with his own and delivered a devastating punch straight to the man's chest. The blow shattered his armor, crushed his ribcage, and sent him flying backward, already lifeless. The scene was quick and brutal, leaving the remaining warriors momentarily frozen in shock.
But this move opened an opportunity for the Troll. With a roar, the enormous demon raised his axe and struck a vertical blow with all his might. Rygar spun his blue sword to block the attack, but the impact was monstrous. The force of the blow broke through his defense, throwing him backward like a rag doll. He was hurled into the wreckage of a destroyed wall, which collapsed around him.
The pain was real this time, but Rygar turned it into part of his performance. He tried to recover, pretending to cast another earthen wall to cushion his fall, but let the spell fail at the last moment. He hit the ground heavily, groaning in pain. Blood dripped from his forehead, and he trembled as if he were at the limit of his strength. "Hey, maybe I should try acting if being a warrior doesn't work out."
Finally, he sensed a presence closing in behind him, advancing with speed and certainty. The warriors and the Troll were already catching up to him from the front as well.
Rygar heard the quick steps and felt his instincts scream. He didn't need to turn to confirm it; he knew Gallus was approaching. With half-closed eyes, Rygar focused all the mana he had been secretly gathering. His gamble now was that Gallus would be confident enough to fall into his trap.
Now!
Rygar rolled to the ground, raised his hand, and unleashed his magic as fast as he could. A sphere of icy energy expanded rapidly, growing in intensity. The temperature dropped drastically in an instant, the air turning freezing.
Gallus, who had been approaching with a smirk, realized the danger too late. His eyes widened, and he began to run away. But Rygar, with a cold smile on his face, muttered, "Too late."
The Freezing Nova exploded, unleashing a wave of extreme cold that froze everything within its reach. The warriors, the Black Troll, and Gallus himself were caught in the icy blast. Debris, flames, and bodies were instantly encased in thick layers of ice. The sound of the explosion echoed through the ruined base, followed by an eerie silence, broken only by the crackling of ice as it expanded.
---
POV: Gallus Cleaner
As I watched the boy fight, I felt a growing sense of unease. This boy was too strong. I had already heard reports about him being stronger than most advanced-level warriors three years ago from one of the mercenaries who managed to escape a failed attack. I expected him to have grown stronger in those three years, which was why I had allied with that idiot.
"But he exceeded my expectations…"
He wanted to kill the boy here. According to his sources, the boy appeared to be only nine years old. Letting him grow stronger would harm his future business, especially since he was uniting the Great Forest under one banner with that so-called Iron Legion.
But I couldn't shake the persistent feeling that the boy was holding back his strength. Moreover, his stamina and mana seemed endless.
"It's decided—if he doesn't tire or run out of mana soon, I'll retreat. At worst, I'll have to seek protection in Asura. I doubt he would hunt me down there."
Fortunately for me, the boy started to show signs of exhaustion. He wasn't entirely monstrous yet, but it was better to be cautious—he might just be faking it.
When the boy made a desperate strike against one of the warriors and the Troll hit him, I realized it was my chance.
"There it is! He can't even stand anymore!" As I rushed forward to finally finish the boy off, that nagging sense of unease returned. It exploded when I saw the boy smirking at me. "Damn it!" The last thing I saw was an explosion of white and blue.
---
Rygar fell to his knees, panting. He was badly injured and even a bit tired, but alive. The cold around him was biting, but he remained steady.
"I did it…" he thought, as he surveyed the frozen battlefield he had created. Gallus, the Black Troll, and the other warriors were motionless, trapped in ice sculptures, their faces frozen in expressions of surprise and fear.
Everything was frozen. Rygar's Freezing Nova had turned the slavers' base into an icy graveyard. The ruined structures, the bodies of the warriors, and even the unconscious slaves in the main hall were covered by thick layers of crystalline ice. The surrounding temperature was sharp, and the landscape had become almost unrecognizable.
Rygar breathed heavily, his eyes scanning the frozen field until they fixed on a figure ahead: Gallus, turned into an ice statue. Around him, six other warriors who had fought alongside the leader were also immobilized, caught in the icy blast. Despite the cost, Rygar felt the sacrifice had been worth it.
"I did it…" he thought, trying to steady his breathing as he placed a hand over his chest, focusing on healing his wounds. He had controlled the magic to divert some of the impact from himself, trusting his extraordinary physique to endure the rest. Now, he was freezing, but he wanted to be sure—after all, he had watched plenty of movies to know what might happen in this situation.
As he cast a wind spell to shatter the statues, what he expected happened.
A deep, resonant sound broke the silence. Before his eyes, the ice encasing the Black Troll began to crack, and the ice exploded in all directions. Rygar raised his arm to shield himself from the shards, his apathetic eyes observing as the enormous figure broke free. "Seriously? Did I raise this flag?"
The Black Troll shook off the remaining chunks of ice from his body. His breathing was heavy, and the black aura that had once surrounded him was slowly dissipating. He was injured—frostburn was visible on his thick skin, and his body trembled slightly—but he was still standing.
The giant laughed, a deep and guttural sound that echoed across the frozen battlefield.
"HAHAHAHA! Did you really think you could kill me with that, boy?" His voice was hoarse, yet carried an unshakable confidence.
Rygar allowed a faint smile to appear on his face. He couldn't fathom where this guy was drawing his confidence from; after all, the advantage was clearly his now. His wounds were slowly healing, and the Troll was visibly weakened.
"How long do you think you can last without your friends helping you?" Rygar replied calmly, his voice laced with a provocative tone. He was impressed that this guy wanted to talk—it only gave him more time to heal further.
The Troll narrowed his eyes but quickly softened his expression into a smile, as if the provocation hadn't affected him.
"I'll carve your body into pieces and drink your blood in honor of my brother," he said as he stepped forward, dragging his gigantic axe across the ice. "But I must admit, you're strong, boy. Few have managed to injure me like this. Let me introduce myself before I kill you: I am River Kinkard of the demon tribe Kinkard, and I am the leader of this glorious organization!" He spread his arms in a dramatic gesture, as if expecting applause.
Rygar stifled a laugh but couldn't suppress the thought: How did someone with such a low IQ manage to create an organization like this? Does he not realize I already killed all his allies by myself? He must've had some excellent assistants...
Even so, he decided to play along with the Troll, using the conversation to buy more time to fully heal.
"Rygar Adoldia, of the Adoldia Tribe, Leader of the Iron Legion." He raised his blue sword, pointing it at his opponent. "Shall I consider those your last words?"
River laughed heartily again, seemingly amused by Rygar's boldness.
"If I die here, at least it will be at the hands of a great warrior!" he replied before raising his axe with both hands. "But don't think it'll be so easy, boy!"
Rygar remained in position, carefully analyzing every move the Troll made while continuing to heal his wounds. During the exchange, he had managed to regenerate most of the damage he'd sustained, and now he was confident he could kill him without much trouble.
"Then come," Rygar said, stepping forward, his sword poised for combat. "Show me what you're capable of."
With a ferocious roar, River Kinkard charged, his axe slicing through the air as he prepared a deadly blow.
Their final battle was about to begin. The Troll's protective dark aura, though weakened, was still a formidable barrier that Rygar needed to overcome. He had enough mana to keep fighting, but wasting it like before was no longer an option.
As he evaded the massive axe's attacks, Rygar retreated strategically, using the debris from the destroyed base as cover to buy himself a few seconds to think.
He was weaker than the Troll but faster and more skilled. If the fight continued, it would only drag on unless he found a decisive solution—something to break through the Troll's defenses without exhausting himself completely. That's when an idea struck him: a technique inspired by one of his favorite characters, Ryūjin Jakka, specifically Yamamoto's "Zanka no Tachi: East," where extreme heat was concentrated at the tip of the sword. He didn't need to replicate the technique perfectly; a functional version would suffice. After all, his sword had already cut about two centimeters through the black energy before. Piercing a few more centimeters into the Troll's chest didn't seem impossible.
"If I can concentrate all the flames at the tip… I can destroy him from the inside in one strike…" Rygar thought as he dodged another brutal blow that split a stone pillar in two. The idea seemed solid—execution would be the real test.
The combat grew fiercer. Rygar moved with speed and precision, while River Kinkard relied on brute strength and endurance. Each swing of the Troll's axe shook the ground, while Rygar evaded and counterattacked with calculated movements. Yet the Troll seemed to revel in the fight, as if it were just a game.
Rygar began channeling his magic. The blade of his blue sword, always engulfed in flames, started to glow with even greater intensity. The golden flames turned blue, then began to shift to a purplish hue at the tip of the blade. He was transferring all the heat and energy to a single point, turning the sword into a weapon of concentrated destruction.
River noticed the change but showed no concern. Instead, he roared and attacked with even more ferocity. In a swift move, Rygar dodged a downward swing of the axe, which created a crater in the ground, and seized his chance. Spinning into position at a perfect angle, he delivered a precise strike to the Troll's chest.
The blade pierced through the enemy's weakened, melted armor and struck the dark shield that formed once more to protect the impact point. This time, however, the barrier wasn't enough. The extreme heat focused at the tip of the blade shattered the protection, piercing about four centimeters into the Troll's torso.
River's eyes widened in surprise as Rygar gave one final push with all his strength. Before the Troll could react, Rygar unleashed the accumulated energy in his sword. An explosion of fire erupted from inside the Troll's body, obliterating his torso and leaving only the left half of his body intact. Due to their height difference, the explosion was directed upward.
The purple explosion lit up the night sky, creating a pillar of fire that seemed to connect earth to the heavens. The surrounding debris was pushed away by the impact, and the heat melted parts of the remaining ice covering the base. As the dust and flames subsided, the mutilated body of the Troll fell to its knees, still clutching the axe.
With one final breath, River smiled, even in defeat.
"Hahaha… if I had to die, I'm glad it was at the hands of a great warrior…" he repeated before collapsing to the side, his body finally lifeless.
Rygar stood silently for a moment, surveying the now-destroyed battlefield cloaked in ash. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the combat and the destruction around him.
"Make better choices if you live again," he murmured before sheathing his sword and heading toward an entrance to the underground. He still had work to do.