The sword that pierced through Rukan’s back came out through his chest. It was a strike that pierced his heart. He should have died instantly, but he was completely fine. He did not even make a pained expression. Instead, he looked bewildered.

“Veiga. You dare strike me?”

The one who had ambushed him from behind was Veiga of the Mejai family.

With a horrified look on his face, Veiga muttered, “Damn it. You know my name? I thought you wouldn’t!”

Seeing that Rukan was unharmed, Veiga even let go of his sword and retreated. Rukan did not attack him. There was a more important question.

How did that bastard fool my senses?

This was not terrain with many hiding places. It was a crater created by his own earlier attack. Even if there were many uneven surfaces, anyone coming here would have had to descend from above. And no matter how focused he had been on fighting Keter, there was no way he would have failed to notice something like that.

Could it be that he had been waiting here from before?

It was an absurd assumption. Keter had no chance during their battle to speak with or give orders to anyone on the ground.

And it makes no sense to call this a prearranged plan.

There was no way Keter could have known he would come and prepared a scheme like this in advance. There was something else strange too.

Why did that bastard stop running?

Veiga had only pretended to flee, then stopped midway. He had seen that his attack had not worked at all, so he should have known he had no chance.

Then, a spear suddenly appeared from empty air and gave off a brilliant silver light. The silver light bent in a smooth curve and targeted Rukan’s neck and calf at the same time, but Rukan, already sensing that something was wrong, blocked it with his bare hand.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but...”

Rukan yanked on the spear. A person suddenly emerged from the empty air.

It was Jordic, the Spear Dragon. Exposed with his spear caught, Jordic immediately followed up with a kick, but Rukan did not even bother to block it.

Thud!

The kick landed squarely on his head with full force, yet Rukan did not move an inch. Even though his spear technique and physical attack had both failed, Jordic threw away the spear and stepped back as if he had expected as much.

“So the vermin were hiding all over the place.”

Rukan spread both arms wide and opened his palms. A storm of Ether burst outward from him. It was a simple, brute-force technique that merely spewed Ether in every direction, but its effect was outstanding. Those hiding in space revealed themselves one after another as they stepped forward to block the Ether Storm. However, those hidden in space moved in perfect coordination as if to show that this too had been anticipated.

The first to step forward was Krona, the Lord of the West. When she stretched out both hands and clenched them, space bent. The Ether Storm was reflected off the sphere of warped space and scattered in all directions.

Before the scattered fragments of Ether had even faded, four figures launched themselves from behind her toward Rukan: Henya Eslow, the Sword Witch; Minerva Aegis, the Shield of the East; Burgundy, the director of the Mercenary Association; and Gyro Shubil, the owner of the Demon Sword Obelisk. These four, who had nothing in common, unleashed their ultimate techniques in perfect succession.

Hundred Paths of Two Hands: Left Sword Shadow Slash, Right Sword Soul Split.

Aegis Style Shield Technique: Charge of Trust.

Beast Flow Sword Dance: Hundred and Eight Strikes.

Swift Elephant Sword: Celestial Route.

The lifelong secret techniques of six-star Grandmasters, the essence of their souls, and all of their strength harmonized into a single assault that engulfed Rukan.

Rukan’s response was not alarm, but a scoff.

“Vermin.”

Crash crash crash!

Hundreds of layers of Ether Shields, generated instantly without preparation, blocked the four ultimate techniques so easily that it was almost absurd. It was proof that no matter how deep the technique or how varied the subtleties, everything was powerless before absolute force.

Still, Rukan saw it. What filled their eyes was not despair, but fighting spirit. It was not over yet. Their coordinated attack was only just beginning.

Whoosh!!!

The sound of a heavy object dropping at tremendous speed rang out. When Rukan looked up, he saw a nearly half-naked man drawing both shoulders all the way back. It was Hyperion, the Fist Emperor. With the fists that had reached the eight-star realm before even Keter, his Authority manifested.

Sudden Thunderfist From The Blue: Fearful Waves

The paired fists crashed down and brutally shattered the Ether Shields. Hundreds, thousands of layers were torn through in the blink of an eye. The force contained in Hyperion’s fists far exceeded imagination. For the first time, even Rukan’s eyes widened, and he hastily thrust out a palm in counterattack.

Ignoring the insignificant six-star insects completely, Rukan poured all his power into Hyperion. Hyperion’s fists, which shattered everything, and Rukan’s waves of Ether, which erased everything, violently pushed against each other.

In the aftermath of that collision, material things could not maintain their form at all. Everything was broken down to the atomic level and blown away. The Ether beam Rukan fired was not only striking Fearful Waves, but also Hyperion himself. Yet Hyperion did not defend at all. No matter how extraordinary his Divine Ironblood Physique was, it still could not completely offset Ether. Flesh tore away. Bone and muscle were exposed.

Rukan gritted his teeth. If this power struggle continued, he himself would only be in some danger, but Hyperion would definitely die. Still, Hyperion showed no intention of retreating. If anything, he was grinning so widely that his gums showed, as if he were enjoying himself.

There’s another lunatic in this world like Keter!

An eight-star Irregular was staking his life on a single blow. And the two had never even met before in their lives.

“Tsk!”

In the end, Rukan was the one who retreated first. He claimed to be a god, but even he could not be sure he would remain unharmed if struck by a blow on the level of an Authority. Plus, retreating did not put him at any disadvantage. In fact, it made things better. Hyperion was now mangled. Of course, his pride suffered a great wound because of it, but...

It won’t matter if I kill them all.

He was not curious where these people had come from or why. He simply wanted to kill them all. The desire to kill instantly took form as Ether and spread in all directions, but that was precisely the moment everyone here had been waiting for.

Swish!

Everyone around him pulled back at once. The waves of Ether Rukan unleashed were a surface attack so dense that not even a needle could slip through. Retreating backward was not the kind of thing that would let one evade it.

Upon seeing their nonsensical behavior, Rukan first felt an instinctive chill. Then, he sensed massive physical pressure closing in from both sides. Even Rukan, who could pour out almost limitless energy, had a weakness: a lack of real combat experience and a lack of battle refinement.

Rukan was already releasing Ether in a wide area. He needed to redirect the flow of power from all directions to both flanks instead, but the movement was clumsy and sluggish. Of course, “slow” for him was beyond human common sense and only created a delay of less than half a second. Even with that lost time, he should have had no problem. Thick Ether Shields always surrounded his body.

However, those thick Ether Shields were as thin as paper right now. They had all been shattered by Hyperion’s Fearful Waves and were only in the process of reforming. More than anything, Rukan had prioritized offense over restoring the shields.

Cornered on the defensive, Rukan looked left and right and clenched his teeth. Closing in from the left was none other than Krona, the Lord of the West and the Space-Time Wizard, casting Space Storm, an eight-circle catastrophe spell.

From the right came Deyal, the Lord of the East, unleashing Sky-Slashing Sword Art, Ultimate Technique: Slashing the Sky.

“You are subjects who should be serving me, and you dare!”

Roaring, Rukan threw both arms out to either side. By all measures, he was superior. The very fact that he could wield nearly infinite Ether freely and without backlash should have made him invincible.

But he had grown arrogant. Who could have imagined that these great Transcendentals, people who would gladly lay down their lives for pride, would work together to launch an ambush? In addition, the bait had been far too irresistible. How could he possibly not bite when that bait was Keter?

Craaaash!

Just as the power of chaos surrounding Rukan began to erupt and tear apart the space around him, the attacks of the two Lords struck first and ripped through his body. The surrounding area became a vacuum, and sound vanished.

As the displaced air swept outward like a storm, the battlefield that had been concealed was fully revealed. Rukan was cracked all over, a complete mess. It was not that his flesh had been neatly sliced; it had been gouged away entirely. He looked like an unfinished statue.

Ether spilled out from the carved gaps in his body. Most critically, Dayal’s sword, which had cut halfway through his shoulder, had stopped at his chest. Just when it seemed this was the entirety of the plan and everyone was only watching...

“Pile on!”

At the shout from Daat coming from somewhere, everyone charged Rukan at once and stabbed him.

Crunch, crack!

Spears and swords pierced Rukan’s entire body, but he did not die. Having abandoned his flesh and become a spiritual entity, he tried to force the weapons out by erupting Ether from his body.

Just as four Grandmasters led by Dayal barely managed to keep Rukan pinned down, one person came walking forward, step by step.

“Looks like it’s my turn.”

Keter, whose arms had been severed, stood before Rukan again in perfect condition.

* * *

To Keter, losing his arms was no real restriction at all. At most, it was just incredibly painful. His left arm was Eslow’s, and his right arm was the Blood Sword Dracula. As such, even if they were cut off, they were not truly gone. And even if they had been, Keter—having absorbed the Creation Tome—could regenerate his arms whenever he wanted.

Missing Rukan with Misteltein was also entirely intentional. Misteltein’s self-destruction effect only triggered when it actually struck the target. This meant that as long as it didn’t hit, Keter would be safe, too. By letting both his arms be cut off and making Misteltein miss, what Keter had really been aiming for was to create an opening for the Transcendental’s ambush.

So, when exactly had all of this become possible in advance? Keter himself had only realized it moments ago as well.

His original plan had been to awaken Eslow and Dracula sleeping in his two arms, sacrifice them, and finish off Rukan. However, while fighting Rukan, Keter received a certain signal from the ground below. Inside the crater that he and Rukan had created, he saw a flash of light appear for a brief instant and then vanish. It wasn’t a prearranged signal. It might even have just been a random flicker of light, but Keter had no doubt.

It’s Dork.

After returning from Liqueur, Keter had heard that Daat had left Sefira long ago. However, he hadn’t gone looking for him. He assumed there had to be a reason. Even when Keter formed an army and drew the attention of the whole world, Daat never showed himself. Yet Keter had never doubted him. He was certain Daat was somewhere out there, working something behind the scenes to help him.

Still, even this had gone beyond what Keter expected. The others were one thing, but to get even Hyperion and the Four Lords to help was beyond his expectations. He wanted to ask how Daat had done it. He wanted to praise him and pat him on the head, but unfortunately, there was no time for that. Rukan, like a rabid beast, was glaring at him as if he wanted him dead.

“Like what you see?”

Keter did not attack Rukan. He provoked him.

Rukan, with swords and spears still lodged all over his body, replied, “Maybe it’s because you were born a peasant, but you’ve got no pride at all. A Transcendental digging traps? You should be ashamed.”

“Now, now, calm down. Look at my hand.”

Keter’s hand had originally been empty, but when he clenched and opened it once, Misteltein appeared. The moment Rukan saw Misteltein, his expression twisted. Even just holding it caused wounds to appear on Keter’s hand, but Keter acted as if it were nothing.

“This arrow is called Misteltein. They say it’s an arrow that kills gods. At first, I didn’t believe it. How could a branch-looking arrow kill a god? Right?”

Keter waved Misteltein near Rukan’s face. Rukan’s expression shifted, as if something had clicked.

“Misteltein... Yes, I’ve heard of it. So that was the thing the late king ordered that must be recovered from Sefira.”

“That’s right, this thing right here. Lillian gave it to Sefira, but then she must’ve gotten scared. She went through all kinds of shit trying to take it back.”

“Kekeke... Enough bluffing, Keter. If you really could’ve killed me with that arrow, you would’ve stabbed me already. The reason you haven’t is that that arrow must have some kind of restriction.”

“Of course it does. But that’s not why I’m not killing you.”

“Keep talking. This restraint will break soon enough.”

Keter and Rukan appeared to be having a calm conversation, but that was only because the two lords, Krona and Dayal, were straining themselves to hold the restraint in place. However, they could not hold on forever.

It was a precarious situation where Rukan could break free at any moment. Everyone was tense and frustrated seeing Keter leisurely talk instead of acting.

Then Keter suddenly said, “Join me in killing Godfather Alkione, Rukan.”

At Keter’s sudden proposal, the corners of Rukan’s eyes twitched.