Malekith fell silent as he stared at Mike, who had taken down his Kursed warrior in only a few exchanges.
As king of the Dark Elves, Malekith knew better than anyone just how powerful a Kursed warrior was.
During the ancient age of darkness, every Kursed warrior possessed vastly enhanced physical strength, an extraordinarily durable body, and powerful regenerative abilities that allowed them to keep fighting through devastating injuries.
But that still wasn’t the most terrifying thing about them.
Their true horror was exactly what their name implied.
From the moment they became Kursed, they endured extreme agony every second of their existence, and every attack they landed could inflict that same tormenting curse upon their enemies.
And yet, what had just happened?
The last Dark Elf who had willingly undergone the transformation into a Kursed warrior, a veteran who had survived countless battles, had been killed by Mike as easily as an inexperienced recruit.
How was that possible?
It would have been understandable if Mike had used the Reality Stone.
But he hadn’t.
Malekith could hardly believe it.
He couldn’t understand how a Midgardian could possess a body stronger than that of a Kursed warrior, much less why Mike seemed completely immune to the power of its curse.
If Mike had known what Malekith was thinking, he would have had a very simple answer.
Why wouldn’t it be possible?
Mike had been an ordinary person in both his first life and his current one, but there had also been a second life in between.
And in that second life, he had been born in Sanctuary, in the Saint Seiya universe.
What kind of place was Sanctuary?
It was a place where children were raised from birth with one purpose: to train relentlessly so they could one day become Saints who protected the goddess Athena.
During Mike’s second life in Sanctuary, he had begun training alongside the other children almost as soon as he learned how to walk.
Sanctuary had no shortage of instructors either.
When they were especially lucky, even one of the twelve Gold Saints who guarded the Zodiac Temples would come to the training grounds and teach them advanced combat techniques.
That meant that even though Mike’s body in this life had originally belonged to an ordinary man, his mind was already filled with countless refined fighting techniques, along with an enormous amount of practical combat experience.
As for the Kursed warrior’s curse, that was even less of a threat.
Even a Bronze Saint candidate was still a Bronze Saint in training, and Bronze Saints could withstand even radiation.
A mere curse was hardly worth mentioning.
So in Mike’s eyes, the Kursed warrior Malekith had been so proud of was nothing more than a small fry with unusually high strength.
And worse, one who had plenty of raw power but almost no real fighting skill.
Killing him wasn’t effortless, exactly, but for Mike it was nearly as natural as breathing.
By then, Malekith had finally recovered from the shock of seeing his Kursed warrior defeated.
He looked at Mike, his voice as calm as before.
“I underestimated you, Midgardian.” “I’ll give you a chance.” Mike met his gaze.
“Turn around and leave now, and I’ll let this go.” The enemy of his enemy could be useful.
Putting aside Malekith’s obsession with the Reality Stone, Mike was perfectly happy to see him cause trouble for Asgard while Mike himself was still unable to go there.
Unfortunately, Malekith only smiled faintly.
“I have waited thousands of years for the Convergence of the Nine Realms.
I will not let this opportunity pass.
If I cannot reclaim the Aether and return the Nine Realms to darkness this time, then I would rather follow my people into destruction.” Mike pursed his lips, gave a small nod, and looked at him.
“In that case, you can die here.” Malekith answered with nothing more than a quiet chuckle.
Then he extended one hand to the side.
Dark energy gathered in his palm, and a black longsword slowly took shape within it, radiating an ancient and oppressive aura.
Murky dark energy flowed along the blade, power that belonged to the old age—the era when the Dark Elves had ruled all things.
This was the sacred sword of the Dark Elves, a weapon only their king had the right to wield.
Malekith did not charge.
Instead, he walked toward Mike one step at a time, sword in hand.
His footsteps made almost no sound, but with every step, fine cracks spread through the ice beneath him, as though an invisible force surrounding his body was crushing everything nearby.
Several dozen meters away, Mike stood with his feet naturally apart and lowered his center of gravity.
Malekith was nothing like the Kursed warrior he had just killed.
There was one important thing to remember.
Thousands of years ago, Malekith had been powerful enough to fight King Bor himself and still escape alive after losing.
That was why Mike truly had wanted to let him go.
He really had.
Unfortunately, Malekith wanted his Reality Stone.
That left Mike with no choice but to kill him.
The moment Malekith summoned the sacred sword of the Dark Elves, Mike’s Cosmo began to burn as well.
The blood-red Cosmo that had perfectly merged with the Aether surged faster through his veins, continuously carrying power into every part of his body.
Then Malekith made the first move.
When he was still about ten meters away, his figure suddenly vanished.
By the time he reappeared, he was only three meters from Mike’s side, and the black longsword in his hand was already sweeping horizontally toward him.
Dark energy erupted along the edge of the blade, leaving a curved afterimage as the strike tore toward Mike.
Mike didn’t retreat.
He simply turned his body aside, letting the sword pass by him, and drove his right fist forward from his waist.
His punch broke the sound barrier, blasting a ring of white vapor through the air.
But it hit nothing.
The instant Mike threw the punch, Malekith vanished again.
Mike’s fist tore through the afterimage he had left behind and shredded it apart.
At that exact moment, Malekith reappeared with his counterattack already in motion.
The sword strike had only been a feint.
As Mike committed to his punch, Malekith suddenly emerged from Mike’s own shadow.
It was an innate ability unique to the Dark Elves.
Born from darkness, they could naturally emerge from any place where darkness existed.
And the shadow Mike cast across the ice counted as darkness too.
The instant Malekith emerged behind him, Mike’s fist was still extended.
Malekith’s left elbow shot forward like a cannon shell and slammed directly into Mike’s chest.
And in the next instant— …