Freya and Dimitry clashed with relentless fury, their movements fluid and precise, each strike carrying the weight of their respective mastery.
The Viking princess wielded her mace and shield with an unparalleled combination of brute strength and superb skill, while the Emperor of the Azarin Empire responded with the deadly elegance of his sword. Every move he made showcased a swordsmanship that surpassed anything seen before the apocalypse.
The sound of metal on metal echoed through the Imperial Castle as they exchanged blows, their weapons colliding with an explosive force that surpassed average High Champions. Freya’s mace swung in powerful arcs, each strike aimed with deadly intent, but Dimitry was always there, his sword flashing as he parried, deflected, and countered with equal ferocity.
The ground beneath them cracked under the pressure of their battle, and the walls of the castle shook as their struggle intensified.
They fought for over one hundred exchanges, with neither gaining a clear advantage. Dimitry’s energy seemed inexhaustible, fueling his every movement, while Freya’s focus remained unyielding as she analyzed his every move, searching for the key to his seemingly endless power.
Finally, after several minutes of explosive fighting, a solemn light appeared in Freya’s eyes. She had finally figured out the secret behind Dimitry’s endless energy.
With a calculated move, she jumped back, gaining some space from the Emperor. Her gaze remained fixed on him as she raised her mace high, channeling an overwhelming amount of energy into it.
Dimitry’s eyes narrowed as he sensed the power behind her attack. He didn’t charge blindly; instead, he adopted a defensive stance, making his energy explode outward, a shield of immense power forming around him.
Freya’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Earthquake Blow!" she shouted, bringing her mace crashing down into the ground with all her might.
"Don’t do it!" When Dimitry heard those words and saw the target of the viking princess’s mace, shock and terror appeared on his face, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
The impact was cataclysmic. The ground of the Imperial Castle shattered beneath the force of the blow, but the destruction didn’t stop there. Thanks to Freya’s mastery of the Earthquake Blow Force Skill, the energy of her attack spread rapidly throughout the structure, causing cracks to appear all around the castle.
Dimitry’s eyes widened in alarm as he felt the castle itself begin to tremble. Panic crept into his heart as his energy started to waver, his battle strength weakening significantly.
"Yes! I was right!" Freya’s smile widened as she realized her gamble had paid off. The Emperor’s seemingly endless energy supply wasn’t his own—it was drawn from the energy stored within the castle.
Without allowing Dimitry even a moment to recover from the shock, Freya pressed her advantage. Now that Dimitry could no longer rely on the castle’s energy reserves, he was forced to draw upon his own power. The difference in their strength became immediately apparent.
"BOOM!" Dimitry was sent flying with the first clash, crashing into a wall with bone-rattling force.
Freya’s cold smile deepened as she prepared to deliver the killing blow. But as she moved in for the kill, she noticed the communicator gem in her gauntlet glowing. Focusing her mind on it, she heard Overlord’s voice.
"Freya," the A.I. Chip Clone’s voice was calm and authoritative. "If possible, capture the Emperor alive. He could be useful for my experiments."
Freya’s eyes narrowed as she processed the command. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded, her resolve firm. She adjusted her battle approach, her movements becoming more controlled as she advanced on Dimitry.
The viking princess closed in on Dimitry, her every step measured. The Emperor struggled to rise, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. He glared at Freya, his arrogance shattered, replaced by desperation.
"Stay away, you damn monkey!" Dimitry shouted, trying to project a powerful intent as he raised his sword.
However, Freya was beyond intimidation. With a swift move, she struck, her mace colliding with Dimitry’s sword. The force of the blow sent his weapon flying from his grasp.
As soon as Dimitry lost his sword, the aura of a supreme swordsman vanished as if all his skill had simply faded. Freya was slightly surprised by the sudden change but did not dwell on those thoughts. Her shield followed, slamming into the Emperor’s chest and pinning him against the wall.
Dimitry gasped for breath, his bones broken and his eyes wide with fear as Freya loomed over him. The cold, calculating expression in her eyes told him everything he needed to know—his time as Emperor was over.
Instead of delivering the final blow, Freya reached out, her hand closing around his throat with unyielding strength as she lifted him from the ground.
"Overlord has plans for you," Freya’s voice was low and dangerous before she slammed Dimitry’s head against the wall, generating massive brain trauma and leaving the man in a coma.
In every aspect of the war, the Xaos Kingdom was dominating the enemy. The Obsidian Phalanx, currently led by Clasius, was completely obliterating the elite troops of the Azarin Empire, as was the Shadow Strike Legion led by Major General Theodoro.
The Golden Wave had already spread across the capital, taking control of all major population centers and ready to act in case any disturbance or chaos arose.
As for Ouroboros and the Royal Guards, the group was currently standing in front of an old man who could barely breathe, missing two of his arms and his left leg. Pope Jerom, the High Champion whose power had been paramount in the Church of Glory, had lost all his strength and was so wounded he could not even move.
Although all these fights were immensely important and would determine the future of the entire sector, the most crucial battle of all was the one happening in the sky. The soldiers from both sides watched as the Depravita of Wrath completely overpowered Goddess Lucia, making more and more golden blood spill from the grotesque, disguised figure of the fat man.
Each strike from Vlad brought the false deity closer to his demise, the once-immense power that had been unleashed at the start of the clash no longer present.
Vlad’s eyes burned with unrelenting killing intent as he unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks on Goddess Lucia. His mind was singularly focused on one goal: ending the life of this false deity before his own body succumbed to the strain and slipped into a coma. Every strike of his sword was infused with the raw power of his wrath, moving with a speed and precision that defied comprehension.
Vlad’s sword blurred through the air, arcs of red lightning trailing behind each swing as it cut through the sky. Goddess Lucia had already succumbed to panic and did everything he could to block the onslaught. His once powerful and imposing golden fists now trembled as they tried to deflect the relentless blows.
Despite the false deity’s efforts, more and more wounds continued to open across his grotesque body, each one spilling golden blood into the wind.
The fat man’s breathing grew ragged, his once-arrogant demeanor now shattered by the terror of impending death. His movements became more frantic, less coordinated, as the realization of his mortality began to set in. Vlad pressed on, his attacks becoming even more ferocious, each strike carrying the weight of his rage and determination.
Finally, as the number of wounds on his body reached a critical point, Goddess Lucia’s fear overcame his rationality. His mind, once clouded with arrogance, was now consumed by panic.
With a wild, desperate scream, he shouted, "Get away from me!" His voice was shrill, almost pleading, as he turned and attempted to flee, his bulky form awkwardly trying to escape the wrath that pursued him.
Vlad sneered in disdain, his eyes narrowing as he watched the pitiful attempt at retreat. He wasn’t about to let this abomination escape. With a mighty flap of his flaming wings, he surged forward, his speed increasing exponentially.
The distance between him and Goddess Lucia closed in an instant, and as Vlad drew nearer, his instincts flared with an ominous warning.
Something wasn’t right.
Just as he was about to strike, Goddess Lucia suddenly whirled around, launching a vicious attack with a ferocity that seemed out of character for the cowardly creature he had been fighting.
Vlad’s eyes widened in surprise as he narrowly avoided the strike, his body twisting mid-air to evade the blow. As he regained his balance, a thought crossed his mind.
"That’s not Goddess Lucia!"
Vlad’s mind raced as he assessed the situation. The sudden change in behavior and the newfound boldness in the attack were all wrong. Goddess Lucia had been a coward, desperate to flee, but this was something else entirely.
The eyes that stared back at him were not those of a panicked man on the brink of death. They were cold, calculating, and filled with a malice that went beyond fear. There was a presence behind those eyes that didn’t belong to the trembling figure Vlad had been fighting moments ago.