(15 minutes later, Leo’s POV, the Fourth Ring)
It was around the thirty-minute mark since he first entered the Fourth Ring that Leo began to observe a humongous dip in the performance of the Monarchs surrounding him, as the pressure that had been steadily accumulating finally crossed a threshold that their bodies and minds could no longer compensate for.
At first it showed itself subtly, as movements lost sharpness and intent lines wavered instead of snapping cleanly into place, as swings arrived a fraction slower than before and spells took just a little longer to form.
Then it became undeniable.
Breathing grew strained and uneven across the battlefield, chests heaving as though the air itself had turned thick and resistant, while vision blurred under the relentless spiritual weight pressing down on them from all directions, the Chakravyuh grinding at their foundations while Moltherak’s presence crushed what remained of their composure.
Leo felt it through their attacks.
Where once the Fourth Ring had been a storm of overlapping trajectories and layered killing intent, now gaps appeared everywhere, angles opening where none should exist, as coordination frayed and Monarchs struggled simply to remain upright, let alone maintain formation.
One staggered mid-charge, weapon slipping from his fingers as his legs failed him without warning.
Another raised a shield too late, arm trembling violently as numbness crept up from his fingertips and into his shoulder.
A third tried to retreat, only to misjudge distance and stumble, eyes unfocused as dizziness overtook him.
As it was not the pressure that had increased, but rather their will that had weakened, as after enduring the pressure for so long, their bodies and minds finally reached a point where they could no longer hold on anymore.
"Cover my left, I can’t lift the shield anymore—"
"I can’t cover your left. My–my eyes don’t work anymore."
"Are we even alive? Or is this heaven?"
The Monarch’s muttered, as they transcended the realm of normalcy and stepped into the world of delusion.
On the other hand, although Leo felt a faint, lingering strain, he found himself operating close to peak condition, as enduring Moltherak’s pressure had been far more taxing for him when he was forced to shield the entire Cult Army advancing behind him through the Fourth Dimension.
However, now, with that burden gone and the pressure no longer needing to be redirected or dispersed, he only had himself to protect, allowing his movements to flow freely and his stamina to stabilize as the weight became something he could manage rather than resist.
’Alright,’ he thought calmly, watching a spell detonate several meters wide of its intended target.
’They’re clearly at their limits now, so I guess we can start picking up some real speed.’
He concluded, as he slowed his breathing and let his shoulders drop, the battlefield around him finally starting to move at a pace he could dictate rather than endure.
*Step*
*Step*
*SLASH*
Stepping forward instead of maneuvering around blasts, he tightened his fighting line to be something more direct and efficient, as he began to rack up dozens of kills every passing minute.
"HAAA!!"
A Monarch screamed as he lunged at him, desperation written plainly across his face.
However, unfortunately for him, his movements proved to be too sluggish and slow, as Leo passed him in a blur, blade flashing once as he severed the man’s head from his shoulder.
*THUD*
Pivoting immediately, Leo cut through another who barely managed to raise his weapon half-way to block, as the fatigue and delusion made him too slow to be an efficient combatant.
*Slash*
Another fell.
Then another.
Then another.
As where earlier Leo had needed to be careful about his positioning to avoid being surrounded, now he carved through clusters of Monarchs who could no longer react in time, each swing carrying him forward as resistance thinned rapidly around him.
Attacks dwindled.
And the battlefield started to turn quiet, not from peace, but from exhaustion, as Leo advanced through the Fourth Ring like a blade through rotting fabric, taking complete control of the tempo as bodies dropped faster than they could be replaced, the Monarchs finally learning what it meant to be on the wrong side of a battle decided by endurance.
"He’s cutting through us like we are nothing."
"What sort of sorcery is this? Why is he not affected by this mind numbing pressure as well?"
"Agh, fuck this shit. I’m out of this fourth ring.
I did not work so hard all my life to become a reputable Monarch, just to die here for nothing."
The Monarchs said, as they could not fathom as to how Leo was so far superior to them, as they realized that the fight from here on out was no longer about containment but rather survival.
"We can’t stop the Cult’s Shadow Dragon. I suggest laying down our weapons and letting him pass...."
"Are you mad? This war is being livestreamed across the universe. If you lay down your weapon now, you will be branded as a traitor across the cosmos."
"Not to mention that you might be captured and punished for defection.
I don’t know if you’ve heard the horror stories or not, but apparently, Lord Mauriss takes a lot of pleasure in torturing traitors.
And I would much rather die here a Righteous Faction hero, than risk torture at the hands of the Lord."
The Monarchs discussed in broken, slurred whispers as panic spread faster than any command ever could, yet their indecision mattered little, because by that point Leo had already begun tearing through them at a pace that no argument or resolve could interrupt.
Over the next ten minutes, the Fourth Ring collapsed into slaughter, as thousands of Elite Righteous Faction Monarchs fell one after another, their titles and reputations stripped of meaning as their bodies piled up beneath Leo’s path, unable to slow him even for a moment.
With every step forward, his momentum compounded, movements growing cleaner and more ruthless, as enemies ceased to feel like opponents and became little more than idle bodies standing in his way.
Blades rose too late.
Spells failed to complete.
Resistance vanished.
As by the time the survivors realized the Fourth Ring had already been lost, Leo no longer seemed to be fighting a battle at all, but rather seemed like he was walking through the remains of one.