The shockwave that followed hurled Ian even farther back. Despite its violent appearance, the explosion carried only muted heat and crushing pressure.
Thud, thud, thud—
That was why he managed to flip cleanly through the air without losing control.
He hit the ground in a sliding crouch like a four-legged beast, but he couldn't rise at once.
Swoosh—
A gale-like pressure still surged outward from a distance.
Keeping low, Ian lifted only his head and fixed his gaze on the source. Between the fading bursts of explosions, a dark crimson divinity flared and spread like the breath of the Heaven Defier.
So it was that after all.
At the very center, Olaf lay twisted on the ground. Only then did one corner of Ian’s mouth curl upward.
That bastard’s punishment.The name of the quest he had received just before the duel began flashed through his mind. This fight had been Karha’s punishment upon his own descendant—and at the same time, Olaf’s final chance at atonement.
If he defeated me, he would be granted absolution. If he fought to the end without surrendering and died, his soul would be saved.
Whatever the case, Olaf had clearly lost that last opportunity.
Being used as an executioner was nothing new to Ian. The battle might have begun against his will, but he was Karha’s Great Warrior. Punishing sinners in the god’s stead was part of his role.
"Karha is enraged."
"Insane… O Superhuman of the North—"
Gasps rippled from behind him. The barbarian warriors encircling the battlefield murmured in disbelief.
One by one, they dropped to their knees. They had finally realized that the God of Battle had revealed his true aspect.
Fwoosh—
Behind them, the two sacred flames were now burning more fiercely than before. The spectators remained unharmed only because the Blazing Goddess had granted her protection.
Crackle! Creak—
An ominous sound brushed past Ian’s ears at that moment. When he turned forward, his eyes narrowed.
Right… I knew it.
Olaf, wrapped in that ominous dark crimson divinity, was crouched with both hands planted against the ground.
Crunch, crack!
The sound was coming from his body. The seams of his fur garments tore little by little, revealing bare flesh as his muscles swelled grotesquely. Veins bulged sharply beneath his skin.
"Kh… Grrr…."
From the bowed head of Olaf came a beastlike breath, thick with divinity. It wasn’t difficult to guess what was happening to him.
So you won’t be satisfied unless he fights until death, you lunatic bastard.
Ian clenched his teeth and forced himself upright against the crushing pressure. If Olaf were turning into a berserker of slaughter, then Ian would have to answer in kind.
Thud…
A golden wave burst from around Ian, pushing back the pressure in a widening ring.
At the same time, draconic magic shimmered along his back, and the nape of his neck slowly took on a faint golden sheen.
"Even the demigod has revealed his true form!"
Exclamations rippled through the barbarian warriors and the spectators alike. None of them could tear their eyes away. It was their first time witnessing Ian’s transformation into the Avatar of Platinum.
"W-What is that?"
"Lu Solar, have mercy."
Shocked cries spread along the top of the fortress wall. The garrison soldiers, who had been staring blankly at the archduke wrapped in dark crimson divinity, gradually turned their gazes toward Ian one by one.
I hate putting on a show like this.
He felt every pair of eyes on him and suppressed a sigh. Without letting it show, Ian rose fully to his feet.
Swoosh—
From either side of his back, strands of golden haze unfurled and took the shape of long, feathered plumes. The veins across his body gleamed gold. At his temples, draconic magic surged upward, forming horn-like protrusions.
An uncanny sensation followed. New senses opened within him, and the world sharpened at once—every sound clearer, every movement more distinct.
"Grrrrr…."
Olaf rose then, wrapped in flame-like dark crimson divinity, a beastly growl rumbling from his throat. His bare upper body bulged with muscles that looked ready to burst.
Crunch… crack…
Even as Ian watched, those muscles writhed and swelled. Beneath the steel circlet that burned like fire, Olaf’s wide-open eyes were completely stained in dark crimson.
Ian felt Olaf’s gaze lock onto him. His eyes twitched. The moment their gazes met, Olaf bared his teeth in a grin.
It lasted only an instant.
Whoosh—
In the next instant, Olaf dropped low and drove off the ground, propelling himself forward. Dust burst outward behind him in a shockwave as he shot ahead, fist leading, crossing the distance in a flash.
Shit!
Cursing inwardly, Ian crossed both arms in front of his face. The newly formed wings of magic curved inward like a budding flower, shielding him from the front.
Boom, boom, boom—
Olaf’s fist, trailing a dark crimson arc, crashed down a heartbeat later. The magic wings shattered instantly into golden powder, and the massive fist drove straight into Ian’s crossed forearms.
Crack— Thud!
Dark crimson divinity and draconic magic erupted in a brilliant clash, shockwaves scattering their remnants in all directions.
Ian’s uniform jacket burst apart, shredding into pieces. Beneath it, muscular flesh shimmered with golden magic.
Thud, thud, thud…
Grinding his teeth hard enough to crush bone, Ian was forced backward, his boots carving deep furrows into the ground. Behind him, the shattered wings of magic reformed in slow, curling wisps.
There was no trace of composure on his face.
What is this strength?
He couldn’t push Olaf back.
The force bearing down on him felt like a mountain in motion. If he had not activated the Avatar of Platinum, it wouldn't have been his clothes tearing apart—it would have been his body.
There was no time to dwell on that.
"Ooooo!"
"Crazy!"
The spectators were still crowded behind him. Many stared in a daze, breathless cries spilling from their mouths.
"Everyone, fall back! Now—"
Even with his teeth clenched against the crushing force, Ian twisted his head and shouted.
The only reason he had blocked Olaf’s charge instead of evading it was because of them.
If he had stepped aside, the berserker’s assault would have plowed straight into the crowd. Even under the sacred flame’s protection, they wouldn't survive that.
"Move! Hurry!" Mev’s urgent cry followed.
She was the first to snap back to her senses. The legionaries who had watched the duel in stunned silence jolted awake as well.
"R-Run! Move, you bastards!"
"The wagons! Lift them and move them! Everyone follow!"
"Do not interfere with the sacred duel!"
Shouts overlapped and collided. The mass of spectators erupted into frantic motion. Some turned and ran blindly. Others rushed toward the wagons, straining to haul them away.
Even as they fled, most couldn’t resist glancing back at the battlefield.
"Admirable…."
A low voice drifted through the chaos, rough as iron scraped against stone.
Ian stiffened at the sound and snapped his gaze forward.
Crack!
Beyond Ian crossed forearms, still being crushed beneath that fist, Olaf was smiling, baring teeth that were broken in several places.
"Karha?" said Ian.
Olaf’s bearded face twisted into a deeper grin as he lowered his head slightly.
"Surely… this isn’t… all you’ve got?"
The whisper came laced with a growling breath and thick divinity.
Ian’s whole body throbbed in answer, as though something deep inside him had begun to resonate with that voice—but there was no time to dwell on it.
"You were so eager to beat me to death… weren’t you?"
There was no mistaking it. Karha had manifested through Olaf’s body like a terminal.
Whether it was because Olaf carried Karha’s blood or because he had fulfilled some hidden condition, Ian couldn't tell.
What he did know was this: even as a fragment, Karha’s descent through Olaf meant there would be no good end for him.
Of course, that hardly mattered. Olaf had already been as good as dead.
"Of course… not!"
A savage smile finally spread across Ian’s lips as he spat the words out.
At the same time, draconic magic blazed through his body. In the next instant, his crossed arms tore Karha’s fist away.
Thud—
With a single swing, remnants of magic and divinity burst outward like sparks. Ian shot forward through the scattering light and drove his fist straight ahead.
"Good to see you— You bastard!"
He snapped his magic wings backward, using them as propulsion. His fist traced a golden arc and slammed squarely into the side of Karha’s face just as the god’s vessel was being forced back.
Crunch— boom!
Karha’s head whipped to the side. Dark crimson divinity exploded upward behind him in a violent plume.
Even with Ian’s fist buried in his face, Karha’s expression twisted into a grin. "That’s… more like it!"
Dark crimson divinity surged upward like raging flames. As Karha was driven back, he stomped both feet into the ground.
Boom, boom, boom!
The earth overturned beneath him as he slid. The immense recoil transmitted through Ian’s fist made his golden-glinting eyes tighten.
Swoosh—
Before he had fully come to a stop, Karha’s right fist swung in a brutal arc.
Ian had no time to retract his punch. Almost on instinct, he raised his left arm and wing to block.
Boom—
The fist blazing with dark crimson divinity tore through the magic wing with ease and drove straight into the forearm beyond it.
Draconic magic and divine power exploded upward in a violent surge. Ian spun with the blow, rotating his body with the arm that had taken the hit to disperse the force before it could send him flying.
Fuck!
His vision swam from the shock. Ian clenched his teeth hard enough to crack them.
Even with his Concentration and Intuition pushed to their absolute limits, Karha’s punch was fast. The force contained within it was just as overwhelming.
And the moment it struck, his entire body resonated, as if a bell had been set tolling within him.
Thud, thud, thud.
What the hell is that?
He beat his remaining magic wings and stamped his feet into the ground, forcing himself to slow down.
"Karha…"
"A duel of gods!"
Far in the distance, the legion soldiers had retreated recklessly and now watched in awe.
"Ahahaha— hahaha!"
Karha laughed wildly as he twisted his waist and completed the full arc of his punch. The thunderous sound was the same laughter Ian had heard within his visions.
Crunch!
Grinding his teeth, Ian came to a stop and lowered his stance. The magic wings that had regenerated in an instant spread wide, then snapped backward all at once.
Whoosh—
The ground beneath his feet cratered as Ian surged toward Karha like a beam of light. Almost simultaneously, Karha, who had just unleashed a dark crimson punch through the air, snapped his head around.
Fwoosh—
Dark crimson divinity flared violently. Karha lifted the arm he had just swung and brought his forearm up to shield his face.
Crack—
Ian struck without hesitation. It did not matter where the blow landed. As long as he could vent the fury coiling inside him, that was enough.
Draconic magic burst from his fist. Remnants of dark crimson divinity detonated outward, sweeping away the thick cloud of rising dust in every direction.
Thud, thud, thud.
Karha was driven back again. Even so, beyond the forearm raised in defense, Ian caught sight of the bastard’s smile.
"Exhilarating!"
You lunatic.
Ian didn’t press the attack immediately.
"Who was it?" said Ian.
There was something he had always intended to ask, if he ever stood before a god.
"Who the hell dragged me here? Why me of all people?"
He forced his fist forward with even greater strength, grinding the words out between clenched teeth.
Karha slowly shifted his gaze toward him. For a fleeting moment, amusement flickered across his face.
"Why… would you think… I would know… something like that?"
Ian held that dark crimson stare, blazing with divine fire.
Then his expression twisted. "You ignorant bastard."