“Got you!”
Death flowed from Vortigern’s fist. Convinced of his victory, the terrorist leader cackled wickedly at the horrific sight playing out before his eyes. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air.
But just then—
“Pathetic.”
At the sound of the hero’s echoing voice, in one swift, deadly strike, a blade mercilessly pierced Vortigern’s heart from behind.
Vortigern gasped and spurted blood as he stumbled forward. When he turned around, he saw Crow—who should have been well and truly dead—standing there, unscathed.
“What?!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “How?! I killed you! I scattered your flesh and blood everywhere!”
“That was my temporary doppelgänger,” Crow explained. “A new power I gained from my fight with the calamitous dragon you sent to me!”
Black aether overflowed from the sable blade in his hand. Crow swung the sword, scattering the darkness everywhere. It morphed and twisted, taking shape as an army of aetherborn!
“Forbidden Art: Wicked Soul Summoning!”
A thundering roar answered! Imps, ogres, minotaurs, demonic boars, oni—every man-eating beast the hero had slain thus far lined up before Vortigern!
“Wh-What?!”
Muramasa, the Black Reaper, had a new ability—manifesting the souls it had consumed. In the face of such power, even the terrorist leader broke out in a cold sweat.
Nor was that all.
“Evildoers!” a voice echoed. “I won’t let you come near Crow!”
A lightning-quick flash blocked the path of Vortigern’s three minions. The powerful battle maiden Iris overpowered them single-handedly.
“Give up, Vortigern. As a prince, you should admit to your sins and surrender,” Crow said, pointing his sword decisively at the villain.
Inwardly, he thought, I’m gonna be sore all over if we fight!
What a turd.
Despite his internal bullshit, his external presence was overwhelming. Vortigern was terrified beyond measure.
“Ugh,” he groaned. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Blood gushed from his pierced heart, and Crow’s army of aetherborn slowly closed in on him, leaving him no escape. And the battle maiden of light was keeping his subordinates at bay.
His dream of giving his brother a humiliating end had failed, and Zilsonia remained in the people’s hearts as a great man (even if he had been just a piece of trash old fart).
Vortigern sighed. There was no longer any hope for him. He had lost, wholly and completely. Giving up and allowing himself to face judgment was likely the easiest option.
But no.
“I’m not done yet!” he roared.
He charged straight ahead, and nothing could turn him aside! With a tremendous cry, he threw himself headlong at the massive army of man-eating beasts with wild abandon.
His fists flew everywhere, striking and punching away at the aetherborn army with brutal fury!
The sight left Crow genuinely speechless.
“What?!” Come again?! What’s with this guy’s power?! I don’t get it! And not only that...
The amount of blood seeping from Vortigern’s chest had decreased to a laughable pittance!
That shouldn’t have been possible. One couldn’t easily stem bleeding from the heart. If anything, it should’ve stopped only when there was no blood left to flow.
Yet the terrorist leader showed no signs of dying. His movements did not slow, and he mowed down the aetherborn one after another.
“Haaaaaaaaaaah!!!”
Vortigern’s fist exploded against a massive minotaur, sending it flying toward Crow. The young swordsman cut it down instantly, but—
“Behold the same tactic you used against the black dragon! I have you now, Crow!”
“What?!”
The moment Crow split the demonic bull’s torso in half, Vortigern appeared before him, his deadly arm fully taut and poised to strike.
Muramasa rose up and shielded the swordsman just in time to catch the fatal blow, sending Crow flying backward, groaning. He tore through multiple buildings in the wake of the attack’s crushing impact, and the pain was so intense he nearly cried.
Vortigern drove forward relentlessly.
“You think you can get away from me?!” he roared, his voice echoing throughout the imperial capital as he closed the distance to Crow (who was still shooting through the air) at an alarming speed, using the scattering debris of the buildings as stepping stones.
“What?!” was the only thing Crow could utter, struck speechless by his opponent’s strength, which defied the very laws of physics. Wh-Wh-Wh-What the hell even is this guy?!
One ogre—the sole survivor of the onslaught—still chased after Vortigern. Seeing this, Crow perked up inside. Aw, who’s a good ogre?! Yes, you are!
However—
“Great timing!” Vortigern announced. He paused, spun on his heel, and sank his teeth into the ogre’s neck.
And then he chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And chewed. He tore off the thing’s vertebrae, devouring them with relish as the sounds of crunching bone permeated the air.
Then he swallowed.
“Vortigern, what. The. Hell. Are you doing?!” Ewww! He’s eating it!
Before an astonished Crow, a strange shift came over Vortigern’s body. His skin became a bright, feverish red, and his heartbeat thundered so loudly that it shook the very air around him.
He looked just like the ogre he’d just consumed.
The terrorist leader let out a deafening roar. No longer the voice of a mere human, the sound became a raging storm, pulverizing myriads of homes in its violent wake. As soon as Crow’s feet touched the ground, he was forced to retreat.
“Ngh! Vortigern! What is this power?!” Wh-Wh-What the hell is wrong with this guy?! I have no idea what’s happening!!!
Clearly, the man had transcended the power of ordinary mortals. Such strength should’ve been impossible for an ordinary body.
“Is this power...an aethereal arm? But I don’t see one anywhere—”
“Right here!” Vortigern bellowed, gesturing at his own heart.