The Chichibu mountain range was dying.
What was once a pristine national park now resembled a fresh, jagged crater, carved out by the sheer, unreasonable weight of divine violence.
Voban did not merely walk the earth; he crushed it.
The oldest Campione invoking the Authority of the Legion of Hungry Wolves.
He stood eight feet tall, a towering monstrosity of shifting black shadows, coarse fur, and divine starlight.
Every time the Great Wolf exhaled, a localized hurricane stripped the surrounding mountains of their topsoil.
Godou Kusanagi spat a mouthful of blood onto the ruined earth.
His lungs burned, drawing in air that smelled of ozone, burning wood, and copper.
Above him, the storm clouds broke.
A massive bolt of lightning slammed into the ground, the shockwave picking the teenage Godslayer up and hurling him through the air.
Godou crashed through three thick pine trees before his back hit a solid boulder.
He struggled to his knees, his vision blurring.
He was out of breath and out of time.
“Godou!” Erica Blandelli sprinted through the gale-force winds, her red dress torn.
Yuri Mariya followed close behind, fighting the suffocating gravity of Voban’s aura.
They threw themselves onto the cracked earth beside the battered teenager.
There was no time for hesitation.
To use the Golden Sword, he needed the exact history of the god.
Erica grabbed Godou by the collar, pulling his bruised face toward hers, and crashed her lips against his.
Through the kiss, Erica poured her European mythological framework directly into his mind.
“He channels the authority of Apollo,” Erica murmured against his lips, transferring the spell.
“But not the sun bringer of Greece.
He is the older, darker incarnation.
Apollo Lyceus.
The wolf god who brings plagues and demands human sacrifice…” A second later, Yuri took Erica’s place.
The shrine maiden pressed her lips to Godou’s, her spiritual vision surging into his consciousness to verify the truth of the lore.
“The beast born of shadows…” Yuri whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.
“The silver wolf that devours the light of the sun.
You must sever the shadow from the light.” Godou absorbed the knowledge.
His golden mana ignited, burning away the exhaustion in his limbs.
Godou planted his feet into the cracked earth and raised his right hand, his voice echoing with the absolute authority of the Persian God of Victory.
“I am the strongest!
I grasp all victories!” Godou chanted, his golden aura exploding outward, pushing back the hurricane.
“I am the one who crushes all enemies, who breaks all obstacles!” A blinding, conceptual light erupted from Godou’s hand.
The Golden Sword of Knowledge materialized.
The Great Wolf let out a roar that shattered the eardrums of every animal within ten miles.
Voban felt the lethal threat of the blade.
The ancient king abandoned the localized storms, channeling all his divine energy into his massive, eighty-foot physical form.
“A sword forged of stolen knowledge!” Voban’s voice rumbled from the beast’s throat, vibrating the very bedrock.
“Let us see if it can withstand the weight of a true King!” The wolf lunged.
A mountain of shadow and muscle dropped from the sky, its jaws opening wide enough to swallow a skyscraper.
“For victory, I hasten!” Godou shouted, gripping the Golden Sword with both hands.
“Bring before me the sword of tearing, the blade that strikes down divine deceit!” He swung the blade upward, pouring his life force into the strike meant to sever Voban’s legend of Apollo Lyceus.
The jaws descended.
The sword swung.
The collision was inches away.
It never happened.
The space between the wolf and the sword shattered like glass.
A sound like a breaking mirror echoed over the roar of the hurricane.
Between the descending maw of the Great Wolf and the rising arc of the Golden Sword, a massive golden portal tore open the fabric of reality.
It functioned as a conceptual wall of absolute authority, halting the eight-foot beast mid-air and repelling the Golden Sword with equal prejudice.
The force of the sudden stop sent Godou stumbling backward, his sword dissipating into sparks.
Above, Voban’s massive wolf form hit the invisible barrier and recoiled violently.
The hurricane winds died instantly.
The storm clouds froze.
The battlefield went dead silent.
From the golden ripple in the air, a figure stepped onto the ruined, mud-soaked earth.
Ren wore a simple, dark blue cotton yukata.
His wet hair clung to his forehead.
Wooden geta sandals clicked against the cracked stone.
He wasn’t wearing the Ring of the Unseen.
The moment his sandals touched the dirt, a terrifying, abyssal aura flooded the mountain.
It slammed into Godou, forcing the exhausted teenager back to his knees.
High above, Voban’s Great Wolf form stiffened, the ancient king’s instincts screaming as he stared down at the human in the bath robe.
They both recognized it instantly.The scent of a divine usurper.
The 8th Demon King had arrived.
A translucent blue screen hovered over Ren’s right eye.
[ Alert: Combatants Intercepted.
] [ Target: Sasha Dejanstahl Voban (1st Campione).
[ Target: Godou Kusanagi (7th Campione).
Threat ….
Ren dismissed the interface.
He stood in the center of the crater, wedged between the oldest Campione and the seventh.
He looked at the spot where Godou’s glowing sword had been, then up at Voban’s massive jaws.
“I was sitting in a perfectly heated spring,” Ren said, his voice flat, cutting through the silence of the battlefield.
“And then half a mountain dropped into my bathwater.” He let out a long, heavy exhale, looking between the two godslayers.
“Which one of you am I billing for the damages?” *** Enjoyed the chapter?
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