Crash! With a deafening blow from his massive hammer, Osvald crushed an orc’s head and grinned widely. “Hah! Osvald the Man! Once again proving what it means to be a real man!” Osvald was in an exceptionally good mood. From the looks of it, the battle was clearly turning in their favor. Victory was certain. Safety was secured. And now fame awaited. What could be better than this? On top of that, they were surrounded by elves—each one more beautiful than the last. Osvald's nostrils flared. After such a splendid performance, the elves were bound to be impressed with him. “Osvald the Man! I’m finally getting married! To a gorgeous elf, no less! Today’s the day—I’m going all in!” With that determined thought, he boldly threw a flirtatious remark toward the elf fighting beside him. “Beautiful lady. Would you care for a cup of tea with me after the battle? I am the invincible Osvald the Man.” The "male" elf receiving the compliment immediately scowled. He was experiencing the intense emotion humans often talked about—discomfort. But he couldn't exactly lash out at someone who had come to help. Respecting Osvald’s tastes, the elf quietly walked away without a word. Osvald smiled as he watched him leave. “Pfft! Embarrassed, are we? Was I too bold? But fortune favors the brave when it comes to love! Bwahahaha!” Either way, Osvald was having a great time. The situation had tilted so decisively toward the elves that Osvald could afford such carefree antics. The high priests of the Salvation Order were growing increasingly desperate. Munareff ground his teeth as he scanned the battlefield. “That bastard! I should’ve killed him back then!” All the dark mages had been wiped out. The tide of battle had completely turned. He had known the human was strong—but not this strong. Clearly, even back then, the man hadn’t been using his full strength. But hope wasn’t completely lost. The human had just unleashed a tremendous amount of power. No matter how powerful he was, if he exerted that much energy, he must be nearly exhausted now. “I have to kill him and flip the momentum!” If the summoner died, the death knights would disappear. That would give the orcs a fighting chance against the elves again. Munareff moved to pull away. But things didn’t go as he intended. “Where do you think you’re going?!” Boom! Two elven elders blocked his path with unwavering tenacity. They fully understood what was at stake. They had to protect the human who had come to their aid. Only then could they secure victory. Once, the elven elders had been the ones bound by the Salvation Order’s high priests. Now, the tables had turned. It was the priests who were being restrained. Boom! Boom! Boom! The elven elders unleashed their full power, relentlessly pressuring the priests. Though the priests were technically stronger, their growing panic caused them to falter. Desperation was setting in. If things continued like this, they wouldn’t just lose the war—they’d lose their lives. Especially Munareff. “I have to create an opening... so that he can move.” A very important figure from the church had arrived to face the elven High Chief herself. But if the war continued like this, it would put him at a disadvantage. Munareff began to sweat coldly as he frantically searched for a solution. “There’s no choice. Even if I have to sacrifice a few...” Just as Munareff moved with that grim resolve— BOOOOOOOM! A colossal explosion echoed across the battlefield. Even the elven elders and the high priests—beings who had transcended the ordinary—were shaken by the force. The fiery momentum of the battlefield died in an instant. All eyes turned in shock toward the source of the sound. Darkness rippled across the high sky. At its center, a gaping hole had opened, as if something had pierced through the heavens. Fssshhhh... The swirling darkness soon took on the shape of a man. He wore a black robe like the other priests—but his expression was cold and emotionless. There was only one difference: despite standing perfectly still, black mist writhed continuously around his body like a living shroud. Silence fell over the battlefield. Without saying a word, he hovered in the air—and his presence alone radiated overwhelming pressure. Ghislain’s eyes narrowed. “That one...” He had seen him in a dream. One of the four most powerful priests of the Salvation Order—so powerful they could single-handedly alter the tide of battle. Even Ghislain, who had learned magic and ascended to higher realms, would struggle to face him unless he had his original body. “An Apostle.” One of the Four Apostles who served the Аdversary had appeared here. The Apostle stared directly at Ghislain. In his eyes, Ghislain was the greatest obstacle who had ruined this entire war. He wanted to kill him right now. But he didn’t have the luxury of expending that kind of power. Ghislain didn’t avoid the Apostle’s gaze. He smirked. “I’d like to have a go... but...” Unfortunately, he had almost no energy left. Honestly, even if Astion’s body was in peak condition, he still wouldn’t win. Still, his fighting spirit stirred. He always believed a fight had to be fought to know the outcome. But he had to restrain himself. This wasn’t his battle. He needed to stay calm. There was someone else meant to face the Apostle here. “Everyone, fall back.” Iralniel’s quiet voice echoed across the battlefield. Even though the elves had the upper hand, they obediently stepped back upon seeing the Apostle. Grrrr... The orcs growled but didn’t pursue. They, too, understood what kind of being the Apostle was. Even the Julien Mercenary Corps, who had been standing around watching, hesitated before following the elves’ lead. Fssshhh... Ghislain also withdrew the death knights and retreated. There wasn’t much time left to sustain them anyway. As both sides pulled back, a vast open space emerged in the heart of the battlefield. Step. Step. Step. Iralniel slowly stepped into that space. With each step she took, sprouts erupted from the ground and vines rose up to wrap around her body. Rrrrrrr... The vines transformed into armor, clinging tightly to her form. A wooden helm formed over her face, and antlers rose from the top of her head. Vrrrm—! Green divine light burst from her eyes and glowed across her armor. The light enveloped her as elemental spirits stirred a violent wind behind her. Iralniel faced the Apostle and spoke. “I am the one who ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) bears the breath of the World Tree. Born with the fall of its first leaf and fated to live with the forest forever. I am Iralniel, High Chief of the Elves. Name the darkness that has come to this place.” The Apostle was silent for a moment before speaking slowly. “I am the hand preparing the coming of the Black Revelation. The herald of the Covenant. The one who has received the third blessing and spreads its will. I am the Prophet Rahamod.” With no change in expression, Rahamod raised his hand. At the same time, Iralniel’s body became lighter—until she turned into a beam of light and shot straight at Rahamod. BOOOOM! The explosion rocked the battlefield as the two figures clashed. Neither yielded. Iralniel instantly followed up, slashing across Rahamod’s side with a blade hand strike. Despite being split open, Rahamod didn’t bleed. Instead, black smoke rose from the wound and wrapped tightly around her arm. Crunch! The darkness twisted her arm violently. She tried to pull free, but it wouldn’t come loose. So she grabbed Rahamod’s face with her other hand. Grab! “You’re not the type to die before using up all your power, are you.” “...” CRACK! She dove down, slamming Rahamod’s head into the ground. BOOOOM! The earth shattered and Rahamod’s head was embedded deep into it—a blow that could’ve killed even a transcendent. But Rahamod didn’t die. He sprang up, black energy pouring from his body in streams as he counterattacked. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM! In an instant, hundreds of streams of black energy slammed into Iralniel’s body. She retreated, reaching out with her hand. Boom! The spirit of stone erupted from the ground, shattering the earth as it rose. Massive pillars of rock charged toward Rahamod. With a sweep of his hand, countless strands of darkness surged up from beneath Rahamod’s feet, grabbing, pulling, and shattering the stone pillars. From the tips of Iralniel’s fingers, dozens of wind blades exploded forth, slicing through the air as they tore toward Rahamod. His body shook multiple times. The darkness surrounding him shielded him, blocking the incoming blades. The deflecting darkness spun like a vortex, and then sharpened into a spearhead, hurtling toward Iralniel. BOOM! Her body was pushed back. But unfazed, she stepped forward again, surging with power. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The two clashed head-on without hesitation. No dodging, no retreat—only pure impact. A contest of raw strength. Within it, only the will to overpower and destroy the other. Each strike infused with their might split the earth and tore through the air. Black mist and green essence collided hundreds, thousands of times, entwining their bodies. The breath of the spirits intertwined with the darkness, endlessly weaving and clashing. The storm of energy they released devoured the battlefield. Iralniel’s armor began to fracture and break. Rahamod’s robes, too, were torn in places, black mist continuously seeping from the gaps. BOOM! Suddenly, Iralniel leapt back. In her hand, a massive bow appeared. As if in response, nature itself fell silent—elemental spirits holding their breath. As she drew the bowstring, overwhelming power gathered around her. At the same time, darkness spiraled at Rahamod’s fingertips. From within it emerged a grotesquely twisted black spear, forged purely of his energy. Snap! Iralniel loosed her arrow of light—it soared toward Rahamod. Rahamod hurled his dark spear with the force of a storm. The arrow of light and the spear of darkness collided. BOOOOOOOOOOOM! The sky split open. Winds howled as the entire battlefield twisted in chaos. A blinding flash erupted, followed by a thunderous shockwave that shook the earth. Light and darkness swirled into a vortex, and from its center exploded a massive storm. “Guh...” Both of them reeled from the blast of energy, staggering under its force. But with barely a pause, their eyes locked again—they launched at each other once more. BOOOOM! The fight resumed in full fury. Each attacked the other with relentless ferocity. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Everyone on the battlefield stared, dumbfounded, at their clash. Even transcendent beings couldn’t fight like this. This was a battle of gods—a proxy war between deities. No one was more shaken than the members of the Julien Mercenary Corps. “W-Wow... H-How can a person even fight like that?” “Just how strong do you have to be to unleash power like that?” “I’m watching it, but I still can’t believe it...” Osvald muttered as he glanced at Ghislain. “Osvald the Man... This is the first time I’ve seen someone stronger than you, Boss.” Ghislain snorted. “If I had my real body, I’d be stronger than that.” “...Right.” Everyone nodded, but their eyes said they didn’t quite believe him. They knew Ghislain was powerful—but what they were witnessing now was simply on a whole different level. Ghislain didn’t bother to defend himself. No one had ever seen him go all-out against a single opponent before. So their skepticism was understandable. “If it’s a one-on-one, I always win.” That was how Ghislain had always lived. Hadn’t he already proven that by defeating Aiden? There was no need to make excuses. He just twitched his lips and let it go. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! It felt like the battle would never end. But Ghislain could tell—barely—that Iralniel held the upper hand. “Is she going to take down an Apostle here...?” Once the Apostle ran out of strength, escape would be impossible. That would deviate from the timeline he remembered, but it wouldn’t be a bad outcome. The fewer powerful enemies from the Salvation Order remained, the safer his allies would be. But Ghislain didn’t lower his guard. The Salvation Order was full of tricks. Letting your guard down around them was the fastest way to die. As he watched, Ghislain’s expression suddenly hardened. “Of course...!” Gripping his staff tightly, Ghislain bolted forward. What he saw as he dashed ahead— —was four high-ranking priests detonating their own bodies. BOOOOOOOOOOOM!