The blade slid free.
That was all the warning Ren got.
No dramatic blast of magical energy, no fancy announcement.
Just the hiss of steel, quick and clean—and the world seemed to hold its breath, like even reality respected Doni’s sword.
That first attack was almost invisible.
Twenty feet gone in a blink.
Ren didn’t have time for fancy magic, shields, or defense.
He tilted his head—barely two inches.
The attack swept by, too clean to hear.
It shredded the glass table, tore the espresso cup in half, sliced through concrete, kept going.
Somewhere above the city, a stray cloud split into two perfect halves.
The ruined cup clinked apart, droplets of coffee splattering across glass and imported tile.
Ren stared at the mess for a second, then glared at Doni, who stood there like nothing had happened, blade resting on his shoulder, offhand grin on his face.
“You missed,” Doni said, eyes a wild, shining blue.
“Or you read the arc.
Nobody dodges that by accident.
Come on, Eighth!
Give me something real!” Ren let out all his breath.
Not out of fear—more like annoyance.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to make a decent espresso at six in the morning?” Ren’s voice was dangerously low.
Before Doni could toss some quip at him, the space behind Ren erupted—like sunlight ripping open the sky.
He didn’t bother with one weapon.
He called up fifty.
Golden ripples burst open in the air, flooding the city with the electric glare of the King’s Treasury.
Swords, spears, halberds, even a cursed scythe or two.
All ancient.
All monstrous.
All pointed at Doni, who grinned like a madman.
“Fire.” He barely spoke.
The world thundered—fifty divine weapons unleashed at once, faster than a bullet.
Doni didn’t flinch.
If anything, the rush of power made him ecstatic.
He dove right in.
His arm disappeared into a blur of steel.
The sound—clang, crash, shatter—tore through the air.
He smashed aside a crooked sickle, caught a broadsword, split a war-hammer mid-flight.
The force of his defense turned the terrace to debris, flinging shockwaves that set off car alarms down the block.
Ren didn’t spare a thought for the wreckage.
He had money for days.
As the shattered terrace dropped out from beneath them, Ren floated up, untouched and unconcerned—held in the air by the King’s Authority.
The bathrobe vanished, swapped for an immaculate black suit and overcoat that no sword could cut.
Doni jumped off the collapsing rubble, pushed off a chunk of concrete, and launched himself right at Ren.
“More!
That’s it!
Throw more at me!” Doni laughed.
His sword cut an arc straight at Ren’s neck.
“Is this all?
You just shoot swords?
Fight me for real, King!” Ren’s eyes glowed red.
Administrator’s Eye kicked in.
[ Target: Salvatore Doni.
] [ Active Authority: Severing Blade.
] [ Trajectory: Decapitation.
Lethal.
] Ren didn’t dodge.
His hands stayed buried in his pockets as the Sword Saint’s blade swept through his neck.
For a split second, Doni’s smile froze.
That… wasn’t supposed to be it.
Devil Kings don’t just stand still and die.
Ren’s head didn’t fall.
Blood didn’t pour.
The wound exploded with emerald light and golden dust—and as Doni pulled his sword back, everything stitched back together before his eyes.
Not a scratch left.
The Cycle of Spring.
An absolute resurrection.
The fight seemed to pause as Doni stared, floating just above the ruined courtyard, trying to process what he just saw.
“Done pitching a fit?” Ren said, cool and bored.
He moved like lightning, grabbed Doni by the collar, and hurled him toward the ground.
Doni hit the courtyard like a meteor, sending up a tidal wave of dust and shattered stone.
Ren drifted down, landing at the center of the new crater.
Doni was already sitting up, coughing dust, his expression somewhere between disbelief and awe.
“And absolute defense.
Endless money.
Weapons that kill gods,” Ren said, crossing the crater’s edge.
“I’m not a swordsman.
You like the duel.
I deal with things quickly.” He stopped, ten feet away, and snapped his fingers.
The sky answered.
Three hundred golden portals bloomed, forming a dome around Doni.
Each held a weapon, tip aimed at arteries and hearts and every vital spot.
No gaps, no escape, no tricks.
Even the Sword Saint couldn’t block a barrage like that at point-blank.
“I can do this all day,” Ren said, his voice ringing through the rubble.
“A thousand weapons a minute.
Hurt me—I’ll just come back.
So, last chance, Sixth King: Are we really doing this, or can I go back to my coffee?” Doni looked at the wall of magic, then at Ren—unbothered, calm, and armed to the teeth.
And then Doni lost it—he threw his head back and laughed.
Loud, full, arms in the air.
“I surrender!
I surrender!” he shouted, standing and brushing off his jacket.
“You’re a cheat code, man!
What’s the fun in fighting someone who can’t die and rains swords from the sky?” “That’s exactly the point,” Ren muttered.
He waved a hand, and every portal vanished.
Doni marched right up and clapped Ren’s shoulder.
“You know, I thought you’d be a stiff tyrant.
But you’re just lazy!” Ren brushed the hand off, checking his cuffs.
“It’s called delegation.” Doni just grinned wider.
“Whatever you call it, I like you!
We’ll be good friends.
I’ll tell the others: Italy’s under joint custody.
We spar next week!” “No.
Don’t just show up at my house again, Doni,” Ren warned, but he already knew it was pointless.
“Noted!” Doni waved, already wandering out of the crater, whistling to himself.
Ren watched him go, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Sure, he established his turf, but dealing with Godslayers?
That was the kind of mess he’d spent years avoiding.
He stared at the crater, the ruined terrace, the distant sound of panic in the streets.
“System,” he called.
[ Yes, Host.
] “Wire fifty million from the treasury to the hotel.
Cover damages.
And pull up the global map.” [ Transfer initiated.
Map loaded.
] A blue hologram flickered to life in front of him.
Europe was a warzone now—Voban in the east, Doni doing his shonen idiot routine in the south.
If Ren stayed, those two would drag him into another round of nonsense.
He needed a vacation.
Somewhere nice.
Somewhere quiet.
Somewhere exclusive—far from magical knights and sword-happy fools.
Ren spun the globe, searching for a place where he could finally get some rest and, maybe, a decent cup of coffee.
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