Iralniel could feel it—bit by bit, she was gaining the upper hand. Of course, calling it an "advantage" was generous—it was hardly more than the thickness of a sheet of paper. A single lapse, and the tide could turn. But for Iralniel, even collapsing at the same time as her opponent wouldn't be a loss. If she could simply drain his strength, their side would still claim victory. Astion, that human intruder, had accomplished a great feat. If she could just buy a little more time, they'd win. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Still, she had no intention of dragging the fight out for days. Iralniel poured out even more power. Her goal was clear: exhaust Rahamod as fast as possible and bring the war to an end. Amid the fierce exchange, the four priests who had been observing from behind Rahamod suddenly rose into the air. Then they slowly began approaching—as if preparing to join the battle. “A pincer attack?” Even as she fought, Iralniel kept track of their movements. If they interfered, things would turn against her. She’d have to call the elders to block them. Then again, the elders were watching and would likely act on their own. Just as Iralniel refocused on Rahamod— Rahamod suddenly muttered in a low voice: “...Martyr yourselves.” “What?” Iralniel sensed something wrong and stepped back, looking up. A terrifying energy was tightening from all directions. “No...” BOOOOOOOM! Before she could grasp what was happening, the four priests drew on every ounce of their life force and exploded. An overwhelming wave of energy surged upward, twisting the sky and making the atmosphere scream. The residual energy from the priests formed a colossal veil that soared high— FWOOOOOOSH! —then turned into black rain that poured down over the battlefield. The oppressive weight was as if the blackened heavens themselves were collapsing. “...Damn it.” Iralniel’s eyes trembled. She had never imagined the Salvation Order could unleash such a technique. And that power wasn’t aimed just at her—it was falling toward the elves waiting behind her as well. “I have to block it!” Four high priests, stronger than most transcendent beings, had sacrificed their lives to unleash this. If it landed, it would cause devastating losses. Only the strongest would survive. In desperation, Iralniel drew out all her energy. The surrounding spirits and the force of nature lent her strength. FWWOOOOOSH! A massive wave of energy burst from Iralniel, spreading across the sky. In her mind, there was only one thought: protect her kin. RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE—! The black energy fell like a rain of death and clashed head-on with the barrier she had erected. It was a destructive force, powered by lives. Even Iralniel couldn’t ignore its impact. The pressure was enormous. Still, she held the barrier together. Her body grew heavier with each moment, but thanks to that weight, the other elves were spared. Her desire to protect her kin was noble. But on the battlefield, such noble hearts often became fatal weaknesses. “It’s over, Guardian of the World Tree.” THWUMP! Rahamod’s blackened hand pierced Iralniel’s abdomen. She twisted her body at the last second, avoiding a fatal blow to the heart—but that alone wouldn’t change the outcome. At this rate, Rahamod’s strike would drive completely through her. Rahamod applied more force— But the blow didn’t go any deeper. “Hm?” Ghislain had appeared behind Iralniel and swung his staff with a mighty blow. BOOOOM! Rahamod took the hit full to the face and staggered backward. It wasn’t a fatal strike—but the fact that the attack had landed at all shook him. “What? How did I not sense that?” He had focused entirely on Iralniel. Still, how had he failed to notice an enemy approaching at such close range? “Impossible.” He knew this human was strong. But not to the extent of rivaling himself. The man’s mana was nearly depleted too. He hadn’t paid him much attention. He figured he’d kill him after finishing Iralniel. And yet... that human had just landed a successful strike. Doubt drilled deep into Rahamod’s chest, sending a chill down his spine. “...It must’ve been luck.” He calmed himself and gathered his strength again. Dark energy exploded outward, tearing through the surrounding air like blades. He now intended to kill both Iralniel and Ghislain immediately. Ghislain grabbed Iralniel and flung her backward with all his might. “Catch her! Heal her now!” The elders rushed to receive Iralniel’s body and, with frantic expressions, channeled the power of nature into her wounds. Ghislain had no time to check on her further. Rahamod’s fist came flying. FWOOOOM! The blow grazed just above Ghislain’s head. He rolled aside, barely dodging the shockwave. Rahamod glanced at his hand. “That wasn’t luck.” He had intentionally engaged at close range to test the human’s reaction. And even though the feeling of wrongness had been fleeting, Rahamod was now certain: This human had reached the same realm of willpower as himself. A realm only the four Prophets of the Salvation Order had ever attained. “...Who are you?” Ghislain grinned. “Every guy who asked me that during a fight ended up dead.” “...Insolent.” “Probably the same fate for guys who said that, too.” Rahamod extended his hand. Black energy shot forth. BOOM! Ghislain raised his staff to block—but the force was so intense it launched his body into the air. The shock traveled through his arm, threatening to snap the bones from the impact. And it wasn’t over. The dark energy Rahamod had launched didn’t dissipate—it slithered after Ghislain like a venomous serpent. CRACK! In an instant, Ghislain’s body dissolved into darkness and scattered into the air. Rahamod’s brow twitched in irritation. “That bastard...” To dare pull tricks in front of him— He immediately thrust his palm toward the center of the air. BOOOOOOM! Ghislain reappeared from the shadows and was blasted backward again. Rahamod surged forward, pressing the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) attack. BOOM! Even stomping the ground sent shockwaves tearing through the earth. Had Ghislain not twisted midair at the last moment, his spine would have been shattered. He rolled across the ground and forced himself upright. “Huff... No, I really can’t beat him right now.” He was barely holding on by absorbing the surrounding death energy—but it wasn’t enough to contend with Rahamod. Worse, the energy he was taking in was contaminated with black magic from the dark mages. Ghislain only used pure energy. Absorbing mixed or impure energy reduced his efficiency drastically. Still, he had no choice. He needed to replenish his drained mana—no matter the cost—just to stay mobile. “I have to buy time.” The elders were treating Iralniel’s wounds. He had to hold out until she could stand again. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Rahamod released a barrage of attacks, each imbued with black energy. The ground trembled, and boulders shattered from the force. Ghislain scattered into shadow multiple times to narrowly evade. Even so, he was constantly measuring counterattack opportunities—striking out when possible, trying to flank from behind. But nothing worked. He had burned too much of his strength saving the elves. Nothing he threw at Rahamod could land. Ghislain knew it from the start—his goal was only to buy a little time. So he didn’t get discouraged. He kept dodging Rahamod’s furious strikes by a hair’s breadth, all while provoking him. Rahamod’s anger surged with every passing second. “How... how can someone like this exist...?” His opponent’s techniques were astonishing—even Rahamod was impressed. Especially the art of dispersing into shadow—it was so precise, so perfect, it made him want to steal it. Even so, Rahamod had superior strength and speed. He should’ve overwhelmed and captured the human long ago. But something was wrong. The enemy seemed to predict his attacks. At every decisive moment, he slipped away by the narrowest of margins. This man wasn’t wasting his willpower. He calculated and measured it with precision—using just enough for one escape, one counterattack. “He’s not normal. This thing isn’t... natural.” Not “crazy”—just not natural. The very nature of this person defied logic. The longer Rahamod fought him, the more bizarre it felt. This man’s mastery of willpower was no less than his own. To control that force with such finesse meant that his soul and consciousness had been forged to extraordinary levels. But... his body didn’t match. His mana was depleted. His physical body was clearly nearing its limit. “It’s a contradiction.” How could a vessel so mismatched with its will manifest such techniques? And his combat skills—absurdly advanced. The timing of his spells, coming like daggers, was impressive even while facing them. Those sharp, precise attacks aimed at vital points—this wasn’t something that could be learned from experience or long years of training. This was beyond craft. This was refined artistry. And it wasn’t just magic. His movements, too, were like art. He compensated for his lacking power with the extreme precision of technique. Rahamod didn’t want to admit it—but he had no choice. If his own strength were even slightly less, he might have already fallen to this incomplete being. “...He’s dangerous.” Rahamod was sure now. This man was an abnormal existence. His mastery and body were mismatched. His mana and will worked independently. And yet he pushed every tool to its utmost limit. “He must die here.” This man, whose body is breaking, still dares to stand against him. What would happen if he survived and grew stronger? Rahamod couldn’t let that happen. BOOOOOOOM! He released even more power. Now, he considered Ghislain as dangerous as Iralniel. His energy surged, dominating the surrounding space. Ghislain felt the weight crushing him. CRACK! His transformation into darkness began to slow. Rahamod had shifted tactics—if technique couldn’t win, then sheer power would crush him. Now that Rahamod had full control of the area, he struck at the wisps of shadow Ghislain had scattered into. THUMP! “Urgh!” A blow landed square on Ghislain’s chest, sending him flying and spitting blood. But even then, he vanished again. Rahamod’s lips twitched several times. The blow had hit—but it felt like punching a thick cushion. The man had deflected some of the impact in the moment of contact. Rahamod had intended to blow away the entire area but suddenly hesitated. “The Elven High Chief.” He hadn’t yet confirmed Iralniel’s condition. He couldn’t recklessly waste energy. “The elders are still here too.” With the loss of the dark mages and all the inquisitors except Munareff, the balance of power was shifting. If he withdrew, they could be counterattacked. And he’d already spent considerable energy fighting Iralniel. “The elves must die today. The World Tree must fall.” The church’s long-cherished wish could only be fulfilled by annihilating them here. He couldn’t afford to act on emotion. He had to crush them, carefully, one by one. Rahamod turned his head and shouted, “Executor!” FWOOOSH! Munareff emerged, cloaked in black mist, and knelt before Rahamod. He’d been watching all along but hadn’t dared to act without orders. Acting on his own would mean disrespecting the Prophet. Rahamod looked down at him and spoke. “I will finish off the Elven High Chief. You kill that human.” “I accept the order.” BOOM! Rahamod shot toward the elven elders. At the same time, Munareff released his aura and seized control of the area. He had already been fooled by Ghislain’s trickery once. Now he was ready. CRACK! Munareff had far more energy left than Ghislain. His aura spread like spiderwebs, locking onto Ghislain’s signature. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Munareff launched relentless, fearless attacks. He knew Ghislain was skilled—but in his exhausted state, he wouldn’t be able to retaliate with any serious threat. As expected, Ghislain could do nothing but absorb surrounding energy to barely hang on. Even evading attacks grew harder with each moment. Drip... Blood trickled from Ghislain’s nose. He’d overused his willpower in a fragile body. “Still not yet.” His clash with Rahamod had only lasted moments. It wasn’t enough time for Iralniel to recover. But now—she had to move. Otherwise, the elves would lose this war. Ghislain’s gaze deepened. Right now, he couldn’t chase after Rahamod or defeat Munareff. If things got worse, he might have to abandon the battlefield with his allies. They couldn’t be allowed to die here. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! “You filthy rat!” Munareff roared and launched attack after attack. Ghislain, his nose still bleeding, focused only on evading. But he couldn’t go on like this forever. His body was starting to fail. “I have to decide.” Admit he couldn't reverse the tide and escape—or bet everything on Iralniel’s recovery and hold out just a little longer. BOOM! In a moment of lost focus, Munareff’s blow struck Ghislain directly. He managed to block, but the impact hurled him backward. Blood surged up his throat—his insides felt like they were churning. Even blocking was too much now. Gnashing his teeth, Ghislain turned his gaze toward Rahamod and the elven elders. And in that moment—his eyes widened. FWOOOOOSH! A burst of divine power erupted—greater than anything he had ever seen before.