“This time, it is my turn to judge you.”
My declaration wasn’t empty bravado. It was a herald of blood-soaked vengeance, delivered by a King who had stepped back over the threshold of death. The invisible, immortal veil wrapping my body—the ‘Grace of the Three Lords’—throbbed with power, insulating my existence from every form of worldly assault.
At the same time, a sensation welled up from within. It was a visceral instinct, a gut feeling that this absolute power was finite. Like the final grains of sand starting to slip through an hourglass, the time permitted to me was short.
*...Ten minutes. At most.*
That was more than enough.
For the first time, the pity and knightly decorum vanished from King Arthur’s face. In their place rose the sharp, jagged alertness of a warrior facing an unknown, existential threat. Without a word, he adjusted his grip on the holy sword Excalibur. The sacred pulse of light radiating from the blade clashed with the primordial heat I emanated, making the very atmosphere scream in protest.
There was no reason to delay further. I kicked off the ground and surged forward. No, it wasn't a mere surge.
“Hearken to my voice, O Heavens! Your breath shall become blades, and your tears shall become the lightning that strikes my enemies!”
The Authority of Tāwhirimātea erupted like a hurricane beneath my feet. Carried by that violent updraft, my body launched like a heavy-caliber shell, instantly erasing the distance between me and King Arthur. This wasn’t an attack; it was a divine burst of speed used solely for the approach. The main event was the pure white spear in my right hand, Pāoa.
“Disappear!”
Putting every ounce of momentum into the strike, I thrust the spear that returns all things to the beginning toward the King of Knights' heart. Arthur’s green eyes flashed like lightning. Though visibly startled by my god-speed, he acted as a King who had dominated battlefields for aeons should—he raised Excalibur in a perfect stance and intercepted my spear.
KWAAA-AAAAAANG—!
As spear and sword collided, a roar erupted as if the world itself were being torn asunder.
It wasn't a simple clatter of metal.
It was the cacophony of a flame that sought to reduce all things to nothingness crashing into a divinity meant to sever all worldly evil and chaos.
CHHHHHHHHH! KAGAGAGAGAK!
At the point where the two Authorities met, space itself sounded as if it were melting, and a fierce explosion of light and heat detonated in every direction. The earth beneath our feet evaporated without a trace, carving out a massive crater. The mere shockwave reduced the nearby ruins of collapsed buildings into drifting gray powder.
“Kuh...!”
I saw Arthur’s arms trembling ever so slightly. Excalibur’s holy light was desperately holding its ground against Pāoa’s white heat, but a bizarre phenomenon was occurring: the sword's own holiness was evaporating near the point of contact. My Pāoa wasn't trying to break his sword; it was melting the very 'mythology' the blade contained.
However, the King of Knights was no easy prey. To keep from being overwhelmed, he poured his entire reserve of divine energy into the sword, shoving my spear back. A torrent of light erupted from the holy sword, suppressing Pāoa's heat and surging back toward me as if to incinerate my arm. But the ‘Grace of the Three Lords’ shielded my body perfectly, bouncing the sacred flames away as if they were nothing.
KIIIIIIIIING—!
In the midst of that stalemate, I stomped my left foot hard against the ground. The atmosphere surrounding us wailed once more, forming a massive cyclone. It was a distraction using Tāwhirimātea’s power. Ash and stones were sucked into the vortex, obscuring Arthur’s vision. In that split-second opening, I swung Pāoa, aiming for his flank.
“Foolish!”
Arthur was not swayed by something as trivial as a whirlwind. He swung Excalibur in a massive semi-circle. Along the arc of the holy sword, a cleansing wave of light cleaved through the cyclone in an instant and struck my spear head-on.
KWADUEK! CLANG!
With another eardrum-shattering rupture, we were both blown back dozens of meters by the force of the impact. We stood at opposite ends of the ruined battlefield, glaring at one another. Between us lay a massive, scorched scar upon the earth.
The first exchange was a draw. But I knew that this bout had surely drained the King of Knights' strength. This had to be a short, decisive battle—my immortality had a time limit. I needed to settle the score before that window closed.
Only a few minutes remained.
Watching the clash of the two Kings from afar, Alessandro’s shoulders began to tremble. The knight, who only moments ago had been crumbling under the despair of losing his lord, now stood transfixed, his gaze locked on the battlefield, forgetting even to wipe away his tears. What finally spilled from his lips was a voice of ecstasy mixed with stifled sobs.
“...He is alive, Princess Alice.”
His voice was saturated with joy.
“The King... has returned. As if death itself were nothing to him.”
His overwhelming emotion was conveyed directly to Alice. Over the heavy guilt that had been crushing her chest, a faint light of relief began to seep in. Just the fact that he had returned from the dead made her feel as though she could finally breathe again. No other thoughts mattered.
Thank god. Truly, thank god.
*Because of my unreasonable request... you had to walk to the very edge of death. And yet, you stood back up just to become our hope. Thank you. My King...*
Alice bit her lip, unable to finish her thought. The scene unfolding before her eyes was a miracle that lay far beyond the boundaries of her understanding. With a firm resolve, she nodded toward the knight standing beside her. Her voice, too, held a trace of trembling hope that hadn't been there before.
“Yes, Diabolosso. Your King is... truly a magnificent person.”
Their eyes returned to the battlefield. There, their King—who had risen above despair—began to move once more.
“Again!”
Without hesitation, I used the storm as a foothold and charged once more. Time was my enemy. I had to reduce that steel myth to cinders before this period of immortality expired. This time, it wasn't a simple thrust. I swung Pāoa like a massive glaive, unleashing a horizontal slash of flame that melted the earth. Along my path, space itself ignited, forming a wall of pure white fire that swamped Arthur.
“An attack of this level cannot cut this Sovereign!”
Arthur raised Excalibur above his head. The light radiating from the holy sword formed a massive dome-shaped barrier, standing tall against the tsunami of flame.
However, Arthur was realizing something. He felt his sacred light being minutely eroded by those profane flames. Pāoa’s Authority wasn't just heat. It was the concept of ‘Nullification,’ returning all laws to the primordial beginning. He felt his own divinity being shaved away the more he tried to block Pāoa.
I didn't stop. I dove past the wall of fire, raining down a relentless barrage of strikes with Pāoa. The battlefield rang every time spear met sword.
KAGANG! CLANG! KWAGAGAGWANG!
Once, twice, ten times. Thrusting, slashing, bludgeoning. Thanks to the ‘Grace of the Three Lords,’ every one of my strikes was a fierce bombardment meant only for destruction, unafraid of any counterattack. Conversely, Arthur, realizing he could not cut my immortal flesh, began to fall into a defensive posture. His swordsmanship was still in the realm of the gods, but he was forced to focus entirely on parrying and evading.
“Kh...!”
Finally, the tip of my spear grazed his shoulder guard. It wasn't a deep wound, but the area of contact melted like molten iron, leaving a hideous burn on his skin. It was the first clean hit. Arthur retreated with a groan of pain. For the first time, a trace of anxiety appeared on his noble face.
“How do you like that, King of Knights? Even your lofty holy sword is nothing more than kindling before my Pāoa!”
Certain that the tide of battle had turned, I concentrated all the heat into Pāoa to deliver the final blow. At that exact moment—
“Indeed, your power exceeds this Sovereign's expectations. If that is the case, I shall also show my respects as a King!”
Arthur lowered his right hand, which held Excalibur, and instead extended his empty left arm. He murmured in a low voice that seemed to vibrate through the entire world.
“O sacred shield that rests upon my shoulder and wards off all enmity. Reveal your true form here and now. Pridwen!”
As if responding to his call, countless particles of light began to gather from the void. The particles swirled around his left arm, instantly forging the shape of a massive circular shield. The sacred icon of the Virgin Mary was engraved on its surface, and from its edges, an absolute divinity of protection—distinct from Excalibur's—flowed out like a wave.
Instinctively sensing danger, I launched the condensed Pāoa. However, the newly manifested shield, Pridwen, absorbed my all-melting flames as if they were a light breeze.
KWAAAAAA—!
The white flames slammed into the shield's surface but scattered futilely in all directions without leaving so much as a scratch. The sacred icon on the shield glowed faintly, perfectly nullifying my Authority.
“...A shield?”
“Indeed, Foreign King. This was once my ship, and is now the absolute shield that protects my will. So long as this shield is deployed, I too enjoy a protection as immortal as yours.”
It was exactly as he said. The holy light emanating from the shield enveloped his entire body. His melted armor and the burn on his shoulder were instantly restored. Now, he too had become a temporary immortal, equal to myself.
The battle was back to square one. No, it had become even more unfavorable for me.
“Now is the time for the true conclusion.”
Arthur charged again, leading with Pridwen while leveling Excalibur. Spear, sword, and shield clashed once more.
CLANG! KAGAGAGAK! KWOOM!
The dynamic was different now. Each other's attacks lost meaning before each other’s immortality. My Pāoa was blocked by Pridwen’s absolute defense, and his Excalibur could not pierce my ‘Grace of the Three Lords.’ The fight was no longer about who was stronger. It had turned into a gruesome war of attrition to see whose 'immortality' would expire first.
With every clash of our Authorities, I could feel our respective protections weakening ever so slightly. The time remaining for my immortality was being shaved away, and the sacred icon on his shield began to flicker.
How much time had passed? After dozens, perhaps hundreds of exchanges, the change finally arrived.
Crackle—.
The sound of fine cracks appearing simultaneously echoed from the invisible veil surrounding me and the holy light surrounding him. Our ‘Immortality’ had reached its limit at the same time.
We simultaneously leaped back to gain distance, glaring at each other while breathing raggedly. My ‘Grace of the Three Lords’ had less than a minute left, and his Pridwen was also nearly depleted of divine energy, its form flickering like a heat haze.
Only one attack remained.
I had to bet everything on this single strike.
I funneled every last drop of my remaining divine energy into the Pāoa in my right hand, and Arthur similarly concentrated his remaining power into Excalibur.
All noise on the battlefield died away. Only the heartbeats of the two Kings, preparing for the end, echoed through the silent ruins.
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