3 Hours before
Each member of Rosario's group was preparing to take his place. The three strongest of the group headed for the tower, each on their own side. Ibarra, with his relentless pride and determination, was walking towards Plaza Colón. Using his bow, he eliminated the enemies who tried to stand in his way: goblins and ghouls fell at a distance, leaving the place clear for his encounter with the boss, who was patiently waiting for him, watching his subordinates die.
Pato and Russo, meanwhile, were heading to Las Heras Park. However, at one point, Russo hesitated and stopped, being silently watched by Pato, who was staring at him.
Duck: —... We don't have time to discuss this. If you want to be a coward, go away. I won't tell anyone you ran away, so don't waste my time.
Russo: —...
Seeing that his companion did not respond, Pato sighed resignedly and looked at the ground for a moment. He threw a self-made sword at him and left, looking back one last time at Russo, who remained motionless in that place.
Meanwhile, Victoria and Chino, although initially heading the same way, came to a fork in the road and bumped palms, smiling.
Chinese: - Survive.
Victoria: - Don't think I'm so easy to kill.
After exchanging words, they went their separate ways. Victoria, with great confidence in her power, had only one thing on her mind - to get stronger in order to reunite with her dear friend. He knew that if they found themselves in this world without enough strength, he might not be able to protect her. Or, in the worst case, she would end up being the protected one, as always. That was something he didn't want, because this world had given him the opportunity to grow, to improve.
She had spent beautiful moments with her friend: they played, chatted, helped and took care of each other. But it was always her dear friend who gave her the strength to keep going, who made her feel less alone. So, now she was going to change that; she would return the favor and it would be she who would protect her from now on.
Chino, for his part, had no great reason to fight. He was never someone really remarkable, neither of great determination nor very applied. He was just a simple man, with a normal and calm life. But now, this world showed him that such a life was not possible unless he fought, found a way to survive. However, what was the point of surviving in a devastated world where there was no telling if you would wake up the next day? I thought that maybe all this was in vain, that they were just wasting their time and that they would die sooner or later.
Chino just wanted to keep his sanity. He wanted a quiet life, he wanted to get his old life back. But I doubted everything: I didn't think I was strong enough or brave enough. He was like no one else, like none of his companions; even the most cowardly had more presence than he did. Therefore, he felt that he was not worth it, that he was just another pawn on a chessboard marked by fate, like a puppet in this cursed game created by the gods. He didn't want to survive; he went on this lonely mission to... to die. Perhaps in that way, he would at least be remembered for a heroic act and not just as a pawn in the corner of the board, waiting to be moved to continue living. That was his wish, which was reflected in his face, which had always shown peace, love and joy. This time, however, he was filled with hatred, envy, pain and sadness, and in his empty eyes only his enormous desire to die could be seen.
An hour later, everyone was ready and in their respective positions. Victoria took care of the old bus terminal and the Plaza San Martín, destroying the provincial chiefs with great difficulty. After an arduous and bloody combat, she ended up tired but happy, knowing that she was strong enough to face them. Believing that was amazing motivated her. Then followed Chino, who with his great innate ability and his enormous strength, coming from his god, annihilated in cold blood every monster and boss that crossed his path in the Sarmiento Park and in the North Market. His expression, however, was riddled with sadness and depression, as a crimson rain, made from the blood of the slain monsters, bathed his body. He wondered why he was still alive, even though he had fought with the desire to die.
On the other hand, the teams of Pato and Ibarra were facing serious problems. Ibarra, after eliminating each small enemy, such as goblins, ghouls, vampires, zombies, giant rats and even a giant red spider, was preparing for the encounter with the minotaur. Throwing down his bow, he put on his gauntlets and looked directly at the minotaur, who was standing erect and serious in front of him. It was then that the minotaur, resting his hands on the handle of his huge hammer that rested on the ground, spoke.
Minotaur: - A human... this is unexpected. I thought no one would dare to challenge me, much less your kind. You deserve my respect for standing in front of me without fear of dying. So tell me, what's your name?
Ibarra: - My name... it's not something amazing, but my goddess gave me a title for this, so let's say my name is Ibarra, the Lord of Ragnarok.
At that moment, the minotaur moved for the first time in a long time, firmly taking his large hammer, which he raised, generating a violent wave of wind that whipped the entire place. With his hammer pointed at the sky, he made a gigantic, dome-like barrier appear around the entire place, giving it the appearance of a great colosseum. When he moved that big hammer and pointed it at Ibarra, the minotaur, in a blink of an eye, positioned himself at high speed after Ibarra, who barely had time to raise his arms to cover himself with his gauntlets. The thick metal of that gigantic hammer impacted violently, throwing it against some rocks, going through them until it collided with the barrier, bouncing against it with force and falling to the ground.
But Ibarra could not afford to fall or rest. The minotaur lunged at him again, trading his hammer for a gigantic tomahawk. Ibarra had to dodge the attack, making a 180-degree turn in the air over the edge of the axe. Placing his hand on the weapon, he gave a mana-laden kick that made the minotaur retreat a few steps. Meanwhile, Ibarra used his hands to take a big leap and get away from the minotaur, falling on his feet, with his fists raised, ready for combat.
Minotaur: - Awesome. I didn't think you'd even manage to touch me. You are worthy. Let's keep fighting.
Ibarra: - Well, then come here, little horns, I don't have all day.
With that answer, Ibarra opened his hands, moving them as if inviting him to approach in a mocking way, while smiling mischievously. Thus, both began to run, one against the other, to continue their combat, throwing punches and dodging attacks at high speed.
At the same moment, Pato was not running with the same luck. He was supposed to have gone with Russo, due to the numerical superiority of the monsters in the wide space of Las Heras Park. However, he found himself almost overcome by thousands of summoned enemies. Exhausted, with his new armor already worn out, he was looking at the high-ranking provincial chief in front of him: a giant dark-colored fox that gave off a terrifying and disturbing aura. She was looking at him coldly and disdainfully, her sharp eyes assessing her prey.
Dark Fox: - You made a mistake by coming here alone... you will be my dinner now.
Pato: - We'll see about that. It's a pity I didn't bring a strap. You'd make a good pet if you weren't a monster.
The offensive comment irritated the monster, who lunged at Pato, attacking him fiercely. His blows and paws were similar to those of a wolf, always running in a straight line. However, the creature was able to use its three tails to channel mana attacks from three different elements: lightning, fire, and earth. Pato, trapped by the lightning due to the high electrical conductivity of his armor, was forced to shed it, breaking it with his material dismantling skill. He jumped in a zigzag, dodging the ground projectiles that the dark fox was throwing - huge masses of rock and sand.
With a determined leap, Pato reached the monster and, with one of his daggers, cut off the tail that allowed him to use the lightning element. This infuriated the beast, which gathered in its large jaw a ball of dark energy, with an attractive force comparable to that of a black hole. Pato, aware of the danger, stuck his daggers into the cement floor to stand firm and not be absorbed by the attack. When the ball was thrown, he did not have time to dodge it, and the impact sent him flying several meters into the air, falling on a small structure and destroying it.
The beast came up angrily, ready to devour Pato, who was still regaining consciousness after the blow. He was resigned, feeling that his end was near. But before the creature could reach him, he received a strong kick in the face from Russo, who came to the rescue of his friend, sending the boss crashing to the ground. The monster was weakened, but Pato did not understand why Russo had taken a risk again, despite having admitted his fear and his desire to run away from all this.
Moments before, when Pato had walked away, Russo remembered that during the five years he had been with Ibarra and his group, he had not been a coward. But now he was afraid, because facing provincial-level monsters was very different from dealing with ordinary creatures. Looking at the sword that Pato had left for him, he remembered the days when life was normal and peaceful. The struggle seemed in vain, and I was afraid that everyone would die anyway. However, this apocalypse, this system and these beings threatened to take what he loved, what had been his home. His friends, whom he loved so much, were still alive and fighting for a new world, one where there could be peace. He could not afford to act cowardly. Facing death like an Argentine should have been an act of honor.
Determined, he returned with Pato, approaching him and extending a friendly hand.
Russo: - And you? Are you going to stay there all day or are you going to get up to fight?
Pato: - And what is he going to do to you now, the fucking shithead hero?
Despite the critical moment, humor and friendship between them prevailed. Pato took Russo's hand and stood up, ready to fight. As Russo unsheathed the sword Pato had left for him, the two prepared to give it their all. But the dark fox, furious at the damage inflicted, entered a state of forced evolution, transforming into a giant 40 meters high, covered with a thick breastplate that served as armor. Two dark wings emerged from his back, and his face resembled that of a high-ranking demon.
Two dark wings emerged from his back, and his face resembled that of a high-ranking demon
Without hesitation, Pato and Russo launched themselves at the evolved creature. Pato used his Serendipitous Cutting technique, generating an infinity of cuts in all directions at high speed, while Russo applied the Bloody Opening technique, an almost invisible cut aimed at the torso of the beast. However, after their attacks, the monster disappeared and reappeared behind them, unharmed. In a swift movement, he caught Russo by the torso and threw him against a nearby water source, violently crashing him into it.
Pato, on the other hand, counterattacked, but failed to hurt him. The speed of the combat was brutal; both of them threw cuts and punches quickly, but the monster was superior in strength. At one point, he deflected Duck's daggers, sending him flying, where he landed next to Russo. Although both were injured, Russo got up with difficulty, covered in blood.
Russo: - What do we do...? We don't have the strength to fight him... constantly panting
Duck: - I don't know... let me think...
At that instant, Pato remembered the information about the special dungeons. Looking at Russo, who was staring intently at him, Pato decided to act. With all his might, he kicked him, sending him flying towards the dungeon entrance.
Russo: - DUCK, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!
Duck: - Jsjsjsjs... you'll find out soon, coward...
Pato smiled before putting himself on guard, as Russo crashed into the entrance of the dungeon, which opened for him, causing him to fall inside. Pato, determined, stayed to fight and buy time.
Duck: - And well, horned demon... shall we continue?
Dark evolved: - You are a fool; you will die here...
Meanwhile, in the fight between Ibarra and the minotaur, something unexpected happened. As his fist collided with the great axe of the minotaur, he felt that he was no match for Ibarra. Instead of forcibly evolving, he decided to devour the egg that he had guarded so much. It was his mistake. In just seconds, his head was severed by a figure descending from the sky.
Ibarra observed the new being, who was wearing a large armor and dyed the sky red with his presence. The figure stopped firmly in front of the egg, guarding it with his life.
Ibarra: - Who are you? Friend or foe?
Azazel: - I'm not something you can defeat with your current strength... I may be a fallen angel in the body of a mortal, but I'm still a fallen angel.
The system alerted Ibarra that Azazel was an advanced class hidden boss, a top provincial level boss about to evolve to continental. But, instead of being afraid, Ibarra smiled; he wanted to test his limits.
Ibarra: - Hey, dark knight... I propose a duel. If I win, you tell me what you're protecting and let me destroy the glass next to you, and I promise not to touch the egg.
Azazel: - And if I win, what do you give me in return, human?
Ibarra: — Jsjsjsjs... If I lose, I give you my body.
Azazel: —... Seems like a fair price to me.
Azazel raised his arm, awakening his black wings, burned and stripped of feathers. Rising into the air, he raised his sword, challenging Ibarra, who, with determination, invoked his god, Tyr, the Norse god of war.
System messages
Ibarra: -Tyr... I need you to lend me your power.
Tyr: - This is strange; you have always refused to use fusion. Why now?
Ibarra: -Without the fusion between our souls, I won't be able to defeat him. I can't die here; I still have things to fulfill, so please accept my request.
Tyr: - Okay... I will gladly accept it.
It was at that moment that Tyr merged with Ibarra, creating a unique transformation. Ibarra acquired a silver hair, with the fusion symbol framed on his forehead. Their gauntlets, which were previously common class, evolved into legendary gauntlets called "The Fists of the Æsir", generating a massive divine aura that resonated with the power of a fallen angel.
Their gauntlets, which were previously ordinary class gauntlets, evolved into legendary gauntlets called "The Fists of the Æsir", generating a massive divine aura that resonated with the power of a fallen angel
Azazel, the fallen angel, was staring at Ibarra while both launched into a fierce fight between two great warriors. Ibarra unleashed a cross hook towards the face of the angel, who responded with a direct cut to his abdomen. Ibarra stopped the attack with his forearm, counterattacking with a punch to Azazel's face. Then, he turned his hand that was covering his abdomen, took the sword and performed a twist in the air, throwing the angel to the ground.
Before touching the ground, Azazel unfolded its wings, stopping in midair. Suddenly, he appeared behind Ibarra, throwing a cut that injured his back. The battle intensified in the air, with both warriors giving their best. The angel, determined to protect a strange egg, and Ibarra, determined to survive and take back their city, were moving frantically, breaking the cement and destroying stranded cars, while avoiding attacking the egg's location. It was a worthy gladiatorial duel.
Smiling, Ibarra realized that this was a unique battle in which only he could defeat Azazel. The two exchanged brutal blows: Ibarra punched him directly in the chest, crushing his heart and breaking his bones, while Azazel kicked him in the stomach that destroyed his internal organs. Both were pushed several meters away by the force of the impact.
Ibarra, while smiling, charged his most powerful attack - the Æsir Fist. He threw himself with all his strength against Azazel, who, in turn, charged dark energy into his sword and into his body, lashing out at Ibarra. The clash between the two warriors produced a gigantic explosion that destroyed the red crystal that fed the door of the tower of the evil god, breaking the barrier created by the minotaur. The dust rose, revealing Azazel's sword pierced through Ibarra's stomach and his fist in the angel's heart.
In pain, Azazel held onto Ibarra's shoulder and asked him for a favor.
Azazel: Please... take care of the queen's egg. I'll take care of it for you...
With his remaining magic, Azazel made the gigantic egg become tiny, placing it in Ibarra's hand. This became an item stored in his inventory, called the "Egg of the Cosmos". Azazel began to slowly disappear, leaving one last message.
Azazel: When the day comes... I'll be back. And we will have our real combat. I hope you can stay as strong as you are now...
Ibarra: If I survive, I promise you a rematch...
Azazel disappeared completely, dropping his sword, which became a legendary-grade item, as did Ibarra's gauntlets. This new item came with two hidden abilities, which Ibarra could not use temporarily due to his low fencing level. Exhausted, he fell to the ground and used his only healing ability, slowly starting to recover.
Ibarra: If it wasn't for this and for Tyr, I wouldn't have managed to survive... I wonder... how will the others be doing?
At that moment, in a dark and desolate place, similar to a cave full of torches, Russo was walking wounded and battered by the battle against the dark evolved, trying to find a way out. When he fell in front of an altar that he had not seen because of the low light, he was greeted by four different eyes: two blue and two red that spoke at the same time.
Eternal Dragons: Are you looking for power? Do you want to get out of here...?
Russo: I just want to save my friend. Tell me how to get out of here...
Eternal Dragons: The only way out is where that being who left you in that state. We can help you and give you more power, but we have one condition. Will you listen to her?
Russo, hesitantly, thought that, although it was tempting, leaving without power meant dying. He couldn't risk it. He had to choose: to return with nothing or risk gaining more power.
Russo: Ahg... what is the condition...?
Eternal Dragons: Simple... you must take us with you and give us the best battles against powerful beings. Our power is weakened, but over time we will evolve and we will be able to be of great help to you... but...
Russo: But...?
Eternal Dragons: If you use more power than you can bear, you will have to sacrifice a part of your body in exchange for more power. Are you willing to accept that risk...?
Russo: I don't have anything to lose anymore, do I?..? I accept your terms. Just help me save my friend...
Eternal Dragons: It's a done deal, human...
At that moment, a blinding light flooded the place next to a crisp and very high-pitched sound, capable of bursting anyone's eardrums. Meanwhile, outside, Pato was barely resisting the attacks of the monster, who beat him up with punches, kicks and even a bite on the shoulder that threw him near the entrance of the dungeon. Pato looked at the entrance with a smile, knowing that it would be a good place to hide, resigning himself to fight to the death against that creature.
The light that emerged from the dungeon broke through to the outside, revealing the figure of two imposing dragons. They united into one to form the divine armor created by the dragon twins of heaven and hell: the armor of the god Ryūjin. It was crimson, with golden shades, worthy of admiration.
Unlike Ibarra, Russo had no intention of playing or fighting with dignity. His time was limited; he had barely 30 seconds left to use the armor. With maximum speed, equal to Mach 4, he launched himself at the monster, cutting off its head and destroying the last crystal that granted power to the dark tower of the evil god.
As he approached his friend Pato, he touched his head and healed him with the power of the twin dragons, before Russo's armor disappeared, exhausted. He fell to the ground, being tackled and lifted by the shoulder by Pato, who, still injured, laughed at him for his deplorable state despite his epic entrance. Together they started heading towards the dark tower, where Ibarra had barely healed from his wounds. Victoria and Chino were also returning to join the assault on the dark tower, which had already been assaulted by Brenda, Rosario and Sasha a few moments ago, who, after defeating the boss guarding the entrance to the tower, entered without the latter having the slightest opportunity to defend himself as the 3 were too powerful.
The dark tower expanded in a supernatural way, revealing a desolate, ancient hall, which seemed to have been frozen in time. Rosario, Brenda and Sasha walked through what once must have been a majestic imperial palace. Now, only ruins remained: broken and dark windows that once allowed light to enter, now covered with dust and torn by forgotten battles; murals that told stories of pain and destruction, and tall pillars with deep cracks, witnesses of countless clashes.
Along the red carpet that led them, the bloodstains became more and more evident. At the end of the road, a faint light flickered: a campfire. As he approached, the scene became gloomy and macabre. Bodies scattered on the ground, some still warm, belonging to survivors from different parts of the world: Russia, the United States, India, Africa, Spain, China. The fresh blood indicated that death had not come long ago. In the middle of the carnage, a young Korean man lay, his stomach pierced by a red sword. His life was hanging by a thread.
Rosario and Brenda rushed to his aid. Meanwhile, Sasha watched the place with heightened senses, aware that the worst was yet to come.
Rosario: What happened? Tell me, how did they get here? How did they get in?
The injured young man was babbling words in Korean, incomprehensible to them, until the system activated an automatic translation function, making communication possible between all the players in the world.
Jimin: Run... this tower is in every country in the world. It's a global event... that thing is very powerful... his servant is even more so... They won't be able to win...
Brenda tried to heal the Korean with her magic, but frowned upon discovering the curse that permeated the sword that had pierced him.
Brenda: I can't cure him. The sword is cursed, it does not allow me to use mana on its wound.
Rosario: Take it easy... we will avenge them and restore peace... You... rest in peace.
Without blinking, Rosario held the young man's neck and, with a quick and precise movement, broke his neck, giving him a painless death. Brenda, horrified, fell silent, while Sasha watched without saying a word. It was an inevitable outcome.
Determined to put an end to the nightmare that plagued them, the three of them advanced towards the deepest part of the tower, until they reached a wide and gloomy room, presided over by a gigantic throne of blackened iron. There, on the throne, was he: Pestilence. The horseman of the apocalypse, the same one that the Bible described as the bearer of diseases and suffering. At his side, an imposing beast - a dark dragon, born from the depths of the densest night. Instead of a horse, Pestilence rode this being, her most faithful steed, with red eyes that glowed in the darkness like burning embers.
The evil god, covered by a black and sharp armor, radiated an energy as dark as death itself. The edges of his armor were decorated with crimson gems that pulsed, synchronized with his own heart, while the dragon behind him exhaled thick smoke from its jaws.
Pestilence: Welcome back, Brenda, the maiden of beauty; Rosario, the Queen of Hades; and Sasha, the princess of the moon. We meet again in this life...
The figure that greeted them on the throne was the same as the image that they had engraved in their minds. A being shrouded in shadows, with a jet-black sword in one hand, and his other hand resting on the dragon's head, which roared with a deep and disturbing sound. Pestilence's eyes were like two crimson, all-consuming abysses, and her ebony armor glowed faintly in the dim light of the living room, accentuated by the red outlines that ran through her body like veins pumping pure darkness.
The dragon, his faithful steed, was an extension of his power. With black scales reflecting an ominous glow and giant wings covering much of the living room ceiling, he was prepared to unleash chaos. The infernal being moved in sync with its master, waiting only for a signal to attack, its eyes bloodshot, watching each of the movements of the three women.
The infernal being moved in sync with its master, waiting for only a signal to attack, its eyes bloodshot, watching each of the movements of the three women
The tension in the atmosphere was palpable, the air was charged with a cursed energy that made their skin stand on end. In front of them was one of the most feared beings of all the prophecies, the bearer of disease and death. They knew that the confrontation would be deadly
There was no hesitation, not a word left over. None of the three exchanged looks or jokes before performing. They simply launched into their most powerful form, immediately merging with the gods that backed them. From the very beginning, the battle against Pestilence demanded all his power.
Brenda, after accepting a new contract with a goddess, had reached a final form. The combination of the energies of three goddesses flowed in perfect harmony, giving her a divine balance that was reflected in her majestic new appearance. He looked like a gallant, but dark knight, a warrior of the world of the fallen. His armor was adorned with a hellish aura due to the influence of the Succubus Queen, Abrahel.
His armor was adorned with a hellish aura due to the influence of the Succubus Queen, Abrahel
Rosario, on the other hand, had also changed. His new appearance was elegant, refined and sweet, charged with a burning passion. The fusion between the god Apollo and Hades had transformed her body, giving her an impenetrable defense thanks to Apollo, and an overwhelming brute force thanks to the god of the dead. In addition, the blessing of Lilith, the first woman banished with Lucifer, granted her an unparalleled magical power, a perfect balance between defense, physical attack and destructive magic.
In addition, the blessing of Lilith, the first woman banished along with Lucifer, granted her an unparalleled magical power, a perfect balance between defense, physical attack and destructive magic
Sasha, however, had not been blessed by the gods. Her exploits, although important, had not captured the divine attention, leaving her relegated to the battlefield. While Brenda and Rosario exuded overwhelming power, Sasha was at a distinct disadvantage. The power gap between them was obvious. Even so, his determination did not waver
The Great Horseman of the Apocalypse, Pestilence, rose from his throne. With a gesture of his hand, he absorbed his faithful pet, making it part of his own aura and power. Every step that he descended made the echo of his footsteps resonate strongly in the environment, making even the firmament tremble.
Pestilence: "Oh, girls... How many times have we done this? How many times should I kill them? Nothing has changed in all the reboots, and only the dark ones remember everything..."
Rosario: "What the hell are you talking about? This is the first time we have faced each other."
Pestilence: "The first time? For me, it's been 305,607 times... This is the reboot in which they have achieved the most power. Still, it won't be enough. The only strange thing about this cycle is that... Benjamin is not with you."
Brenda: "He's not part of the group anymore..."
Brenda's words echoed in the air, carrying an unexpected weight. The Horseman of the Pestilence stopped in his walk, surprised.
Pestilence: "Did Benjamin separate from you?... Then... maybe something has changed."
Sasha (impatiently): "Why don't we stop talking and attack him at once?"
It was at that moment that the three of them decided to act. Brenda was the first to move, darting towards Pestilence from the right. Turning on herself, she gripped the handle of her sword tightly, ready to cut her abdomen. Meanwhile, Rosario extended her hands and summoned a colossal bow, the bow of Apollo, charged with divine energy from the sun. Sasha, with her scythe in hand, attacked from the left side, determined not to be left behind.
However, Pestilence stopped both attacks with insulting ease, catching Brenda's sword and Sasha's scythe with her fingers, as if they weighed nothing. With a thoughtful expression, he was ignoring the ongoing battle, focused on the strange changes he was noticing in this cycle.
Pestilence: "Their pattern has changed... Benjamin is not here... That means everything has changed... So, I don't have to get distracted... Hmm?"
It was then that Rosario's arrow, charged with the energy of the sun, was shot directly at her chest. The impact was devastating, generating a massive explosion that shook the place. The shock wave pushed Sasha and Brenda back, while dust and debris filled the room.
For a brief moment, they thought they had won. But out of the smoke and dust, the sound of Pestilence's metallic footsteps echoed once more, becoming louder and more terrifying. The imposing figure of the Rider slowly emerged, indifferently cleaning the dent in his armor caused by Rosario's attack.
Rosario: "That was my strongest attack... and I only dented his armor..."
Pestilence: "Don't feel bad, you couldn't even touch me before. At least you managed to dent my armor this time. That's progress, don't you think?"
The three warriors did not give up. Rosario summoned a spear formed with the power of the sun, while Sasha clenched her scythe tightly, ready to return to the attack. Brenda, with a defiant smile, charged her crimson sword with dark energy, preparing for a new assault.
Pestilence, pleased by the challenge, disappeared instantly, as did they. The four of them were moving with enormous speed, barely visible, their weapons clashing and generating flashes in the darkness. The real combat had begun, and none of the three were willing to go down without a fight.
The battle began with an air of palpable tension. The Pestilence Rider remained motionless, with an icy stare as he watched the three women who were preparing to attack him. Sasha, Brenda and Rosario lined up, each aware of the magnitude of the challenge they were facing. Despite the chasm of power between them, none of them thought to back down.
Sasha was the first to move. With his crescent moon-shaped scythe, he advanced with surprising agility, his feet barely skimming the ground as he executed a series of quick cuts. Every movement he made was inspired by the phases of the moon. With a cut in "New moon," he launched a low, fast attack straight at the Rider's knees. The edge of the scythe glowed, cutting through the air with a menacing whistle. Then he followed up with a sweep in "crescent moon," an ascending arc that pointed at his torso. With each attack, the scythe vibrated with the lunar energy.
However, the Rider did not flinch. With an almost contemptuous movement, he deflected Sasha's scythe as if it were a toy. She, unfazed, continued, executing a perfect turn and throwing a punch in "full moon", a devastating circular attack that was to cut through the Rider's armor. The force of the impact shook the air, but he stopped the blow with his bare hand, a gesture that seemed to mock his effort.
Pestilence: "Do you think this is enough? You're not even close to understanding the real power."
With a simple push, Sasha was thrown back, her scythe wobbling in her hand. The fury in his eyes glowed as he lunged again, this time charging his weapon with all his energy, but each of his attacks was deflected with insulting ease. Pestilence had completely analyzed her, and while she was trying to execute a final attack, with her scythe glowing brightly, he disappeared and appeared at her side. A devastating blow with the back of his hand sent Sasha flying, landing with a loud thump on the ground, panting but still determined not to give up.
While Sasha was trying to get back together, Brenda stepped forward. Her appearance had changed; the power of Aphrodite, Athena and the Succubus Queen Abrahel had transformed her into a warrior who radiated elegance and brutality. His sword glowed with divine energy, a reflection of his inner power. He adopted a perfect fencing posture, his movements precise and calculated, but also full of strength.
Brenda darted towards Pestilence, disappearing into the air with amazing speed. Aphrodite's energy increased her agility, while Athena's power granted her an almost divine precision in every lunge. She attacked with a direct blow to the Rider's heart, charged with the strength of the three gods that backed her. However, Pestilence blocked the attack with his arm, creating a rumble that echoed throughout the room. The impact was so strong that Brenda took a few steps back, but she didn't stop.
Changing her strategy, Brenda channeled the Succubus Queen's energy, filling her sword with a dark and seductive power. The air around him vibrated as he executed a series of quick lunges, his movements as precise as they were lethal. Each divine power-laden strike created small shockwaves around him, as the battle reached a frenzy of speed and strength.
But Pestilence, with her overwhelming calmness, blocked and dodged every attack with an ease that was humiliating. Finally, when Brenda executed a final blow, a direct lunge to the neck, Pestilence caught her sword in the air with two fingers.
Pestilence: "Interesting... But it's not enough."
With devastating force, Pestilence twisted Brenda's sword, shattering it in two. Before she could react, he hit her with a kick charged with dark power, sending her crashing into a nearby column. The sound of bones breaking filled the air as Brenda fell to the ground, unable to move.
With Brenda and Sasha defeated, Rosario stepped forward, the fury in her gaze fanned by the defeat of her companions. His spear shone with the energy of Apollo and Hades, a perfect blend between the sunlight and the darkness of the underworld. Rosario wasted no time. He channeled his energy into the spear and turned it into a bow, firing an arrow charged with sunfire and explosive magic directly at Pestilence.
The explosion that followed was deafening. The crimson fire consumed the Rider, creating a column of flames that ascended into the sky. Rosario took advantage of the moment, moving quickly and transforming his bow back into a spear. He attacked relentlessly, his punches imbued with the energy of Hades. Each lunge was charged with an overwhelming force, a torrent of energy that sought to make the very earth tremble under his feet.
However, when the flames dissipated, Pestilence emerged from the rubble, unscathed. His armor was dented and burned in places, but the Rider was still standing, his power intact, as if nothing had happened.
Rosario: "It can't be... That was my strongest attack!"
Pestilence: "It was... but it's not enough."
Rosario's fury burned inside her as she launched another attack. With a shout of defiance, he disappeared in a flash of light, using his augmentation magic to boost his strength and speed to the maximum. Attacking with his spear, he fired energy balls charged with explosive electricity, each attack resounding like thunder in the air. But Pestilence, like a shadow, dodged and countered every attack, his movements fluid and mocking.
Finally, Pestilence got tired of the game. When Rosario attempted a final attack, he caught his spear with one hand and lifted it off the ground with terrifying ease. With a sharp movement, he broke the spear in two, and then, with a single blow, threw it to the ground with such force that the impact created a crater.
Rosario, weakened and defeated, could barely move. Pestilence approached her, his armor still shining with the damage he had suffered during the battle, but his body was unharmed. With a contemptuous smile, he turned to his fallen opponents.
Pestilence: "They were stronger than in the other cycles... but in the end, everything remains the same."
With Brenda and Sasha unconscious, and Rosario crushed on the ground, Pestilencia was left standing, victorious. They had given their best, they had fought with all their might, but they had not been able to defeat the Horseman. Despite having managed to damage their armor, the end result was humiliating: a total defeat, one that would be remembered as a warning of the true power that they did not yet understand.
The atmosphere of the dark castle was charged with an even more palpable tension, as if the very structure was waiting for the outcome of this confrontation. Pestilence had reveled in Rosario's agony, enjoying every heart-rending scream that echoed off the walls, every echo that seemed to dance in a macabre time signature of despair. The time had come to seal the fate of the three warriors.
Pestilence: "The time has come to put an end to them, but I won't be so good. Because they were good, I will give them a prize: a slow and painful death..."
With an icy smile, the Rider coldly stepped on Rosario's hands, slowly starting to break them. The sound of the crunching bones mingled with the heartbreaking screams of the young woman, echoing like the echo of ghosts in the gloom of the castle. His crimson eyes shone with an eerie intensity as his hands writhed under the brutal pressure.
Rosario: "Do you think that's going to make me give up? Hehehe... why don't you go back to the hell you came from?"
Despite her emaciated and injured body, she spat on the Rider's armor, a defiant expression on her face. The cold look of Pestilence did not flinch. He raised his leg, ready to step on Rosario's head with overwhelming force, when suddenly, a long dark sword and two black daggers appeared swiftly, striking Pestilence and driving him away sharply.
Surprise lit up the Rider's face; in none of his restarts had he received reinforcements. But now, there they were, the first ones to arrive to save Rosario and her companions: Ibarra with the sword of Azazel, and Pato with his dark daggers. Behind them, Chino, Russo and Victoria entered the scene, forming a protective circle around the weakened warrior.
Ibarra: "It is clear that you left our leader and the others in a deplorable state."
Russo: "I told them we should have taken the shortcut, we would have gotten there faster."
Victoria: "Sorry, the middle road seemed less infested with monsters."
Chino: "The important thing is that we arrived."
Pato: "I think we have some shit in front of us that we should destroy."
The Horseman of the Apocalypse watched his new opponents with interest, his mind analyzing every detail. There was no logical explanation for his arrival, but a single thought flashed through his dark mind.
Pestilence: "Oh, I get it... That means he was born... someone who does not exist, someone who wished to be reborn and was born right here. How interesting..."
The atmosphere became suffocating after the words of Pestilence. His voice sounded like a death sentence, and although the Rider seemed amused by the unexpected arrival of the five warriors, his gaze left no room for doubt: this would be the end. The dark castle, which looked more like a tomb of stone and shadows, began to shake, as if it sensed the violence that was about to be unleashed. The ground, covered with the remains of ancient battles and already dried bloodstains, cracked at every step of the Rider.
His rusty armor emitted an ominous creak as he took a step forward, and the atmosphere became even more oppressive, as if the air itself feared what was about to happen. The darkness in the place seemed to envelop them, dense and heavy, while their crimson eyes shone brightly in the gloom.
Ibarra did not hesitate for a second. He was the first to throw himself, Azazel's Sword in his right hand and the gauntlets on his arms resonating with the power of the god Tyr. His movements were fast and fluid, each stroke of his sword resonated in the air, generating dark flashes that tore through space towards Pestilence. He attacked with a controlled fury, combining lunges and fist bumps that exploded with devastating power, making the ground shake at every impact.
Pestilence, however, blocked with ease. He moved his apocalyptic spear as if it weighed nothing, stopping every blow with chilling precision. His eyes did not stop shining, as if he were rejoicing in the growing despair of his enemies.
Ibarra took advantage of a moment of distraction, concentrating the power of his sword in a single cut. With a scream of fury, he launched a powerful lunge that managed to penetrate the Pestilence armor, cutting through his chest and generating a spark of dark blood that splattered on the ground.
But Pestilence did not back down. Instead of showing pain, he let out a cold, brutal laugh. With a violent movement, he deflected Ibarra with the spear, lifting him up into the air before crashing him to the ground with overwhelming force. Before he could react, the Rider grabbed him by the hair with one hand, lifting him up as if he were a broken puppet. Ibarra tried to fight, but Pestilencia brutally threw him towards a wall, causing the stones to break under the impact.
Pestilence: "You are strong, but still... insignificant."
Pato wasted no time. As soon as Ibarra was thrown, the warrior took advantage of the distraction and, with superhuman speed, ran towards the Rider, his daggers gleaming in the gloom. The armor forged by Efesto covered his body, giving him protection and speed in every movement. He jumped, disappearing and reappearing in the air at multiple points as he cut swiftly. The Duck daggers searched for the joints of the Pestilence armor, trying to take advantage of the fissure that Ibarra had opened.
Every stroke was millimetrically calculated, his mind working to the maximum. He used illusions and mental tricks, making the Rider see attacks that did not exist, while others hit him from unexpected angles. But Pestilence moved with the assurance of someone who had already experienced this combat thousands of times.
With a quick twist, Pestilence blocked the Duck daggers with his spear, and before the latter could dodge, the Rider hit him with the end of the weapon, sending him flying towards the ceiling. Pato tried to pull himself together, but before he could react, Pestilence appeared in front of him, taking his arm and crushing him with overwhelming force. Duck's cry of pain echoed throughout the place.
Victoria, bearer of the power of Anubis, did not wait. His eyes lit up with an intense golden glow as he ran towards Pestilence. With every step she took, her strength grew, and although her body was filled with wounds at every blow, these only made her stronger. His fists were like hammers of pure energy, and every blow he threw made the air and stones around him rumble.
Despite the growing pain in her body, Victoria kept fighting, throwing one punch after another with superhuman strength. Pestilence, for the first time, took a couple of steps back from the impact of his blows, but quickly regained his balance. With a violent twist, he stuck his spear into the ground and generated a shock wave that threw Victoria several meters back. He crashed into a column, the very structure of the castle shaking from the violence of the impact. Although her body was still regenerating, the Rider's strength had left her paralyzed for a few vital seconds.
Chino, with his pistol loaded with divine mana granted by Hercules, took advantage of that moment. He fired multiple projectiles that moved at an incredible speed, each of them loaded with enough power to shatter the flesh of any being. At the same time, his spear was cutting through the air, searching for Pestilence's head in a coordinated attack.
But Pestilence did not look human. Every bullet that Chino fired was deflected with a simple twist of his spear. Chino's spear collided with the Horseman's, and although he put all his power into the attack, he was quickly disarmed. Pestilence hit him in the stomach with the back of his spear, throwing him up in the air like he was a rag doll.
Russo, wrapped in the resplendent armor of the crimson dragon, felt the weight of time pressing on his chest. He knew he didn't have more than a minute before his body collapsed under the immense pressure of the armor, but he didn't care. His determination burned like the fire that echoed inside him, fueled by the blessing of Ryūjin, the dragon god. The wings, as sharp as obsidian blades, propelled him through the air with a fiendish speed. The ground cracked under the power of his ascent, while his body turned into a red meteor descending with fury on Pestilence.
he launched with amazing speed, streaking through the air like crimson lightning. The dragon armor that enveloped him glowed brightly, and every flap of his wings kicked up debris and dust, causing the ground beneath him to crack at the sheer force of his ascent. His gaze was fixed on Pestilence, his enemy, the source of the darkness that had humiliated his companions. He knew that his time with the armor was limited, barely a minute before his body couldn't take anymore, but he was determined to take advantage of every second.
With a fierce scream, Russo lunged towards Pestilence, striking with a kick propelled by the dragon's wings. The impact echoed throughout the castle, a rumble that made the walls vibrate. The kick connected with the Rider's torso, making him take a few steps back. Russo's wings beat with such force that dust and debris swirled around both of them.
Pestilence, for the first time, staggered before the brute power of the attack, but showed no signs of pain or surprise. With a simple movement of his arm, he blocked the next blow of Russo, who had aimed his right fist at the Rider's face. The sound of the impact was like that of a dull explosion, but Russo did not stop. Using his wings to gain momentum, he performed a mid-air turn and struck again with both legs, aiming at Pestilence's head.
Pestilence: "An interesting show... but useless."
The Rider blocked the attack with insulting ease, stopping Russo in mid-air with one hand, grabbing one of his legs. With a brutal movement, Pestilence threw him to the ground, breaking the slabs of the castle into pieces under the weight of the impact. Russo's body was momentarily buried in the rubble, but the dragon's armor protected him.
Russo did not stop, he propelled himself again with the wings, this time ascending rapidly and shooting from the air a torrent of draconic fire towards Pestilence. The flames, of an intense red, devoured the space between them, enveloping the Rider in a burning inferno. The nearby walls and columns began to collapse from the heat, but when the flames finally dissipated, Pestilence was still there, completely unharmed.
Pestilence: "Your fire is nothing before me."
Russo's time was running out, and he knew it. With every passing second, he felt the weight of the armor crushing his body, but he couldn't stop himself. With one last burst of speed, Russo descended like a comet, his right fist engulfed in flames, ready to strike the center of Pestilence's chest. This time, his attack was intended to penetrate the Rider's armor, to break what others had not been able to.
The impact was brutal. The dragon's flames intensified around Russo's fist, creating a shockwave that shook the entire castle structure. The Pestilence armor cracked slightly, showing a crack on his torso. It was the first sign of damage the Rider had suffered in the entire battle. Russo, with bated breath, felt a small spark of hope.
But that spark faded when Pestilence looked up, unfazed. With a speed that defied his size, the Rider caught Russo by the neck, lifting him into the air with one hand. Russo tried to fight, but the force of Pestilence was overwhelming. The dragon's armor was beginning to crumble, and Russo felt his body on the verge of collapse.
Pestilence looked at him scornfully, her fingers tightly squeezing Russo's neck.
Pestilence: "You are strong... but not enough."
With a dry movement, Pestilence threw Russo to the ground with such force that the impact created a crater under him. The dragon's armor disintegrated, and Russo's body was left exposed and vulnerable. He could barely move, his breathing was short, but the battle for him was over.
Victoria advanced, her eyes glowing with the dark energy of Anubis. Every step resounded with a shattering force, and as she approached Pestilence, the air around her seemed to be distorted by the intensity of her power. The battered flesh of his body, full of scars and open wounds, was slowly regenerating, but that same agony was his source of strength. The more she suffered, the more powerful she became. The ground under his feet cracked with every step, as a dark mist enveloped his figure, giving him a spectral appearance.
Victoria wasted no time. His first blow was a punch aimed precisely at Pestilence's jaw. The air was cut with a hissing sound as his fist, shrouded in shadows, traveled towards his target. Pestilence raised his armor-covered arm at the last moment, blocking the attack, but the force of the impact was such that it sent him back a few meters, the ground giving way under his feet as he tried to stabilize himself.
Without giving him a break, Victoria turned on her axis, unloading a kick towards the rider's knee. The impact was brutal, enough to make the metal crack and deform slightly. But Pestilence hardly flinched. A toxic mist was emanating from her body, enveloping Victoria in a suffocating aura that sought to slow down her movements. She, unfazed, continued with a series of precise attacks, alternating between punches and knees, hitting the enemy's armored body with the force of a hurricane. Each blow was like the hammering of a storm, causing the walls of the place to shake.
Pestilence, despite receiving the impacts, seemed invulnerable. The Victory blows, although powerful, failed to completely pierce his armor. With a calculated move, the rider raised his arm and launched a devastating counterattack, a blow that sank into Victoria's abdomen like a cannonball. The sound of bones breaking was drowned out by the violent crash that threw her backwards, crashing her into a column that crumbled on impact.
Victoria stood up, her body slowly regenerating, but in obvious pain. Despite his immortality, his endurance had a limit, and Pestilence seemed to be looking for the breaking point. The rider advanced calmly, his breathing barely altered, as if all the damage inflicted was nothing more than a passing annoyance. As Victoria was trying to get back on her feet, Pestilence grabbed her by the neck with one hand, lifting her off the ground with ease. The poisonous air swirled around her, and although Victoria kept fighting, her strength was beginning to falter.
The Rider slammed her to the ground, her armor resonating with the impact. Victoria was panting, her regeneration barely being able to keep up with the damage she was taking. Pestilence did not give him time to recover. With cruel precision, he lifted his foot and slammed it into Victoria's chest, crushing her to the ground and breaking her ribs in the process. The echo of the bones breaking echoed in the room.
Despite everything, Victoria continued to resist. His immortal body, although on the verge of collapse, was still struggling to get up. Pestilence, watching her indifferently, picked her up again, this time throwing her across the living room as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. Victoria slammed into the wall with such force that it left a deep crack before falling to the ground, motionless. Despite his immortality, his body couldn't keep regenerating at the same rate that it was being destroyed.
Pestilence walked towards her slowly, as if enjoying every second of the humiliation. When he reached her side, he paused for a moment, looking at her battered body, before lifting his foot once more, pointing at her head. But just before he could strike the final blow, a gunshot rang out in the room.
Chino emerged from the shadows, with a determined expression and his eyes fixed on Pestilence. His pistol, charged with the energy of Hercules, glowed with a golden hue as he aimed directly at the rider's chest. Wasting no time, he fired a volley of mana projectiles, each of them capable of piercing the hardest metal.
The bullets flew at an incredible speed, leaving golden trails in their trajectory. Pestilence barely had time to react when the first impact hit his armor. The rumble of the impact was deafening, shaking the castle walls, but the rider remained standing, his body barely wobbling from the force of the attack. The bullets, although powerful, failed to completely penetrate their protection.
Chino did not stop. With pinpoint accuracy, he loaded his gun again, firing again and again, looking for a weak spot. Flashes of energy lit up the dark room with each shot, and the sound of the bullets hitting the armor echoed like an incessant hammering. Every impact would push Pestilence back, albeit only a few steps, but the threat of his shots could not be ignored.
In a quick move, Chino changed tactics. He put away his pistol and drew his spear, which shone with a dim but lethal light, fueled by his own mana. With a burst of speed, he darted towards Pestilence, looking for an opening. His steps were agile, quick as lightning, and in a matter of seconds he was already in front of the rider.
With a battle cry, Chino lashed out with the spear, aiming at the junction between Pestilence's breastplate and helmet, seeking to wound him where the armor was most vulnerable. The spear collided with a metallic clang, and for a moment, it seemed that the attack had achieved its goal. The tip of the spear had managed to penetrate a few centimeters, tearing the outer layer of the rider's armor.
But before Chino could seize the moment, Pestilence reacted with unexpected speed. With a sharp movement, he grabbed the spear with one of his hands, stopping Chino's advance completely. The rider turned his head slowly towards him, as if it was nothing more than a simple annoyance.
The force of Pestilence was overwhelming. Even though Chino was trying to regain control of his weapon, it was as if he was fighting a mountain. Pestilence disarmed him with ease, snatching the spear out of his hands and tossing it aside, making it roll away on the ground. The rider then raised his arm, wrapped in the same smog that had suffocated Victoria, and threw it brutally at Chino.
The impact was devastating. The Pestilence hit him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards like a bullet, through the air and crashing into one of the castle's columns. The crunch of the stone as it collapsed under Chino's body was deafening, and dust rose in all directions as the column crumbled. Chino fell to the ground, panting from the pain, with one hand clinging to his side.
Pestilence gave him no respite. The rider advanced towards him with firm and deliberate steps, raising his hand to finish him off. Chino, staggering, tried to stand up. Blood was running from the corner of his mouth, and his body was visibly damaged. However, he was not ready to give up. In a last desperate attempt, Chino drew his pistol again, but before he could fire, Pestilence caught up with him.
With a swift and merciless movement, Pestilence grabbed Chino by the neck, lifting him off the ground. The rider held him in the air, watching with cold indifference as Chino struggled to free himself. Pestilence's hand tightened more and more, suffocating Chino, who could barely breathe. His face turned a deep red as his legs kicked in the air, unable to do anything to get out.
The sound of metal creaking under the pressure of Pestilence echoed in the air, while Chino's gun fell to the ground with a thud. The smog enveloped his body, weakening him even more with every passing second. Finally, without further resistance, the rider brutally threw him to the ground, leaving Chino motionless, barely conscious.
Chino's body was left lying in the rubble, his breathing weak and his body shaking from the pain. Pestilence watched him for a moment before turning, looking for the next enemy.
Ibarra, who had been the first to jump into the fight, was now the only one left standing, Ibarra. With the weight of the battle on his shoulders and Azazel's sword shining faintly in his hand, Ibarra watched as his companions fell one by one, all defeated by Pestilence's relentless force. But there was no fear in his eyes. Tyr's power resonated within him, propelling him towards the ultimate confrontation.
Ibarra adjusted his gauntlets, feeling the cold metal against his skin. The gauntlets, a gift from Tyr, increased his strength and endurance. The newly obtained sword emitted a dark glow, its blade charged with the power of an ancient demon. It was his only chance.
With a fierce roar, Ibarra charged towards Pestilence, brandishing his sword in a downward arc. The sound of metal cutting through the air was deafening, and when the sword hit the rider's armor, a flash of dark energy burst out in all directions. The blade managed to tear the breastplate, a deep cut that crossed Pestilence's chest, revealing black flesh and blood.
Pestilence backed away, surprised by the force of the attack. The blow had gone through his armor, something none of the others had managed. However, there were no signs of fear on his face, but a perverse satisfaction.
Ibarra did not give him time to recover. Following the cut, he lunged forward, using his gauntlets to strike with ferocity. His fists, powered by Tyr's power, slammed into Pestilence's body, each impact accompanied by the creaking of the metal deforming under the pressure. Ibarra attacked with speed and precision, combining quick blows with his sword and brutal punches that made the rider stagger.
The environment was crumbling around him. Each blow rumbled on the walls of the castle, causing dust to fall from the ceiling and the columns to tremble under the force of combat. The ground beneath them was cracking, and debris was flying with every movement of Ibarra, who attacked with inhuman intensity, determined not to let Pestilence overcome him.
But Pestilence was a horseman of the apocalypse, an entity beyond the human. Although Ibarra had managed to injure him, his attacks were beginning to lose strength, and fatigue was beginning to take its toll on his body. In a quick move, Pestilencia raised his arm and blocked one of Ibarra's punches, stopping him in his tracks. The strength of the rider was overwhelming.
With a sharp movement, Pestilencia grabbed Ibarra by the wrist, turning his body with terrifying ease. Before Ibarra could react, he was violently thrown against a nearby column, his body colliding with such force that the stone shattered on impact. Ibarra fell to the ground, panting from the pain, but did not give up. He got up, staggering, with the sword still in his hand.
Pestilence slowly advanced towards him, each step echoing like a death sentence. Ibarra, in a last effort, raised his sword and lunged forward once more, but this time, the rider was prepared. With brutal speed, Pestilence blocked the attack with his arm and, with his other hand, grabbed Ibarra by the hair, lifting him into the air.
Ibarra's gaze met Pestilence's, her crimson eyes shining with an ominous light. The rider held him aloft, as if he were a mere dummy, while Ibarra's sword fell from his hand and clanged as it hit the ground.
Ibarra's body hung limply, his face twisted with pain. Pestilence's hand tightened more tightly on her hair, as the dark fog began to envelop them both. The rider lifted him up even higher, as if reveling in his victory. There were no words, just the sound of Ibarra's labored breathing and the echo of defeat echoing through the castle. The only warrior who had managed to wound Pestilence now hung helpless, humiliated and defeated, while the rider watched his handiwork with a crooked smile.
Both Brenda and Sasha had woken up, but their condition was bleak. They were broken, weak, almost not moving, crawling as they could or trying to get up. Their gazes were directed towards Ibarra, who was about to be broken by the hands of Pestilence. In a last act of bravery, Rosario fired his golden arrow, hitting the area that Ibarra had hurt earlier. The force of the impact caused Pestilencia to release Ibarra, throwing him against her, and both fell to the ground after the brutal collision, knowing that hope was fading with every passing second.
Pestilence, tired of playing with them, began to slowly regenerate all of his armor, his figure becoming even more imposing as he soared into the air, charging dark energy emanating from his being, creating a tenebrous aura around him.
Pestilence smiled disdainfully, watching his opponents with a mixture of amusement and contempt. The dark energy intensified around him as his voice boomed out, full of arrogance.
"Well, it was a pleasure, but it's too many changes and I won't risk dying here..."
With each word, the atmosphere became more oppressive, and the air vibrated with the accumulated tension. Ibarra, with his last strength, tried to get up, but his body did not respond. The desperation was reflected on the faces of Rosario and the others, who tried to get closer to protect him, but the terror generated by Pestilence was overwhelming. All this was observed in real time by the gods of the world, a world-level deceitful event that kept everyone on the verge of chaos.
The god Apollo was really upset about the situation; he never thought that the system would dare to play with them in such a way. Hades, next to him and Lilith, began to argue with Apollo, the atmosphere between them fraught with tension.
Hades: "I told you, if you weren't so weak, she wouldn't be about to die. She was the strongest among my contractors, you useless piece of shit!"
Apollo: "Do you think I'm happy? You want me to kill you, you piece of insect from the underworld!"
Words flew like sharp knives, but time in the world of the gods passed a thousand times slower than for humans
Words flew like sharp knives, but time in the world of the gods passed a thousand times slower than for humans. While the gods were arguing, Apollo had a risky idea, but he no longer cared about the risks. Her desire to save her strongest bearer overcame everything. He decided to ask Hades for his plausibility points, intending to do two things.
Hades: "What are you planning to do?"
Apollo: "It's none of your business..."
Hades: "She's also my contractor, so yes she is."
Apollo: "I'll send a message to that person. And we, running the risk of losing divinity and weakening, will go to protect his little group. It may not be fair to other gods, but we are of the highest rank, and mother that is worth it to us."
Apollo: "I'll send a message to that person. And we, running the risk of losing divinity and weakening, will go to protect his little group. It may not be fair to other gods, but we are of the highest rank, and mother that is worth it to us."
With a firm decision, Apollo sent a message to Leon, who had woken up. He gave her the mission to save Rosario in ten minutes, the maximum time they could be in the mortal world using their plausibility points. Apollo and Hades redeemed those ten minutes in the system to descend to Earth.
Meanwhile, Leon spread his wings and darted full speed into the neighborhood, his determination becoming a torrent of energy driving him. I needed to get as quickly as possible to the place where Rosario and the others were
The air was dense and charged with a dark and heavy energy. The figure of Pestilence stood tall in the sky, radiating a power that seemed to crush the very soul. His armor, already regenerated, shone with an ominous radiance as the dark spear grew to the size of the towering pillars of the castle. His cold and cruel smile was a reflection of the inevitable destruction that was hanging over Rosario and Ibarra, who, unable to move, could only see death approaching.
Time seemed to stand still as the dark spear approached at full speed, cutting through the air with a high-pitched whistle that made space itself tremble. Ibarra, with a shattered body, was trying to get up, but his muscles did not respond. Rosario, barely conscious, could only watch helplessly, knowing that there was no escape. The others, weakened and broken, could barely crawl, uselessly trying to protect their friends.
But at the last instant, when the spear was about to impact, the air was cut with a golden flash. A barrier of divine energy materialized in front of Rosario and Ibarra, blocking the blow with a rumble that made the foundations of the castle shake. The collision of forces was so intense that the walls began to crack, and the pillars trembled as if they were going to collapse. The impact released shock waves that shook the ground, causing fragments of stone to fall from the ceiling.
Behind that golden barrier, Apollo appeared, his presence was as resplendent as it was imposing, with his golden hair and a suit that seemed woven of light itself. Hades, by his side, was looking gloomy and serious, but equally powerful, surrounded by shadows that contrasted with the brightness of Apollo. Both gods were ready to intervene directly, something that had not happened since time immemorial. Hades, speechless, gathered the other companions of Rosario, taking them next to Apollo, protecting them from the immense power that was about to be unleashed among the gods.
The silence was only broken by the words of Apollo, who, although his lips outlined a slight smile, was clearly irritated by the situation.
The silence was only broken by the words of Apollo, who, although his lips outlined a slight smile, was clearly irritated by the situation
Apollo: "You owe me plausibility, child. You better get famous or you'll make me look bad."
Rosario, stunned, could see the god Apollo himself in front of her, his resplendent beauty illuminating the gloom that surrounded them. Next to him, the figure of Hades was the representation of darkness, but his presence provided a strange sense of security.
Hades: "They're going to scold us when we get back home for this..."
Both gods used their power to maintain the barrier as long as necessary, protecting Rosario, Ibarra and the others as Leon flew by, his wings flashing with light in the despair-laden air
Both gods used their power to maintain the barrier as long as necessary, protecting Rosario, Ibarra and the others as Leon flew by, his wings flashing with light in the despair-laden air. The battle between gods and darkness was far from over, and the fate of mortals hung in the balance.
Leon was flying in despair, his body still unaccustomed to the awakening of his powers, memories and, much less, his renewed soul. Every pulse of energy made him stagger in the air, his unstable control led him to plummet, landing abruptly near that bridge. The same bridge where everything happened, where that tragedy with Benjamin broke out. There he was, lying on the floor, weak and confused, feeling the weight of the time he had lost in his lethargy. I knew that I had spent a lot of time in a coma, although, even so, I had seen everything. He knew what had happened to Benjamin, but he didn't wake up... he didn't think it was necessary. During all that time, Leon just watched, paralyzed by his own disbelief.
Since I was a child, I had been alone. Abused, beaten, humiliated. Until one day, someone defended him. That someone was Benjamin. I felt him like a brother. It was he who introduced him to a group of people who, despite everything, did not see him in the same way. That's how he met Rosario, Ibarra, Jamal... everyone. But, deep down, he always believed that he was seen as useless, as someone without value. Now, as he lay on the ground, he knew he had been wrong. This contempt did not come from them, but from their own fear.
Leon (whispering): I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Benjamin...
He stared at the sky, tormented, remembering everything he had witnessed without acting. He had done nothing to help Benjamin, to save him. He just watched, trapped in the comfort of his inner cage, believing that everything would be solved without him. Now, he didn't know where his friend was, and he didn't have the strength to save the others. Frustration consumed him, and with a stifled scream, he hit the ground in anger, creating cracks all around him.
In the distance, the gods were watching. Some, with a malicious smile, enjoyed their suffering, hoping that it would not come in time. Others, like Loki, longed to see him overcome his doubts and show the potential they always saw in him.
Phoenix (softly, inside his mind): Leon... don't be mortified.
Leon (in a broken voice): I was always alone... I stayed that way and that's what I thought I wanted. But now... i realize that I never wanted to be alone. And now I know that I love my friends as if they were my family. What kind of hypocrite am I?
Phoenix: And what does it matter if you are? Changing your mind doesn't make you less human. On the contrary, isn't that what humans do? They make mistakes, and in the end, they understand. Late, maybe, but they do.
Leon (hesitating): Me... I don't know if I can...
Phoenix: You've always known which way is right. Don't doubt yourself now.
At that moment, a notification popped up in his mind. The system had been updated, allowing communication with other players. Suddenly, thousands of messages bombarded him. Some were of encouragement, others of hatred, charged with malice. But among all those messages, there was one that caught his attention. A message from Loki, the god of chaos.
Loki (message): No one teaches you to be strong, Leon. You're bound to be. No one trusts the weak, and if you fall, only you can get up. Humans can dream. We, the gods, don't do it anymore. You smile because you have hope; we smile because we have pride. If you make a mistake, you can fix it. If a god makes a mistake, that's the end of him. So stop crying about a past that's gone. Get up, clean your face, take strength... and show me the world you want to build.
Those words resonated deeply in his soul. Slowly, Leon got up, taking a deep breath. Every breath filled him with a new conviction. As he walked over the bridge, his steps gained strength.
Leon (in a firm voice, looking towards the horizon): I couldn't protect Benjamin... Until now I blamed myself, resigned to the idea that I wasn't strong enough, that I didn't have the will to get up.
He started running, his feet hitting the pavement with more and more force, a smile of pain crossing his face.
Leon (screaming, with desperation in his voice): But this time it's different! I swear it! I'm not going to let them die! I'm not going to lose them!
With a burst of energy, Leon unfolded his wings again. This time they were brighter, bigger and more powerful than ever. His essence was transformed, enveloping himself in a divine light of his own, a power that belonged to him. With a mighty leap, he ascended into the heavens like a star in the firmament. His wings cut through the air with a speed that broke the sky, arriving just in time to get between Pestilence's energy attack and his friends.
From afar, Apollo watched with a mixture of envy and respect. A wry smile was drawn on his lips as he commented to himself.
Apollo (warily): So young... and he already manages the divine energy. Do you notice, Hades?
Hades (seriously, observing the scene): Yes. It seems that a continental-level player has finally been born.
Leon stood in the face of Pestilence, his eyes burning with determination. With an outstretched hand, he had stopped the attack, and the divine flames emanating from his body surrounded him like an aura of pure fire. Her silver hair fluttered in the wind generated by her imposing entrance, while a flaming halo floated over her head. In his other hand, he carried a sword, still sheathed, that radiated overwhelming strength.
Face to face, Leon and Pestilence watched each other in silence, both knowing that the combat that was about to begin would not only decide their fate, but the fate of the entire continent
Face to face, Leon and Pestilence watched each other in silence, both knowing that the combat that was about to begin would not only decide their fate, but the fate of the entire continent.
System update...
Updated provincial level event mission.
Increased difficulty for the mission.
The provincial level event has changed to...
Country-level event.
The winner or winners of this event will have the right to enter the national ranking and will be invited to the duel between countries, where it will be decided who will be the supreme ruler of all South America for the continental event.
Benjamin: I'm waiting for you.. win.. to be able to see each other and finally.. decide who is the strongest here..
This was only the beginning and the end of a stage of an arc of a story. This is the last hope of humanity. The one who will be the cause of its salvation. or maybe.. the cause of its destruction.