The barren wasteland stretched endlessly in every direction, vast and boundless. A cold wind howled across the dunes, whipping up sand and grit in a desolate, jagged bite. Far in the distance, blood-red mountain ranges sprawled across the horizon, rolling and rising like they might be real—or nothing more than a hollow backdrop.
"What is this place?" EeDechi asked, eyes narrowed as she scanned her surroundings. One moment she had been swallowed whole by the door; the next, she stood in this empty, forsaken expanse. Yet she could feel it—she had been dragged here by some unseen force.
"Just a good spot for a fight," came the reply.
Sebas stood a short distance away, black dress pants crisp and a pristine white shirt tucked neatly into his belt. In the oil-painting haze of the desert, he looked like a simple line sketch that didn't belong.
"Well well, old man," EeDechi said with a grin. "Last time we dueled in the Great Tomb of Nazarick, I wasn't even using my full strength. Hell, I wasn't using a weapon at all."
She drew her plain, unadorned giant sword and leveled its tip straight at Sebas. "But don't worry—I'll hold back. I won't kill you. After all, your Justice Value sits at three hundred, and you've got a wife waiting for you back home, right?"
The sword's spine ran straight, yet its edge was deliberately blunt.
"No need for that," Sebas said, his gaze solemn. "Your confidence is a little too high." He paused, then added, "May I ask one question? Last time my colleagues had you surrounded and you leaped into that black fissure—how did you survive? And what exactly did you see inside it?"
"That's just a spatial rift, isn't it? What's the big deal?" EeDechi said, gripping her giant sword. She thought back to her last fight with Sebas, turning over his skills and fighting style in her mind. "Don't you have a technique called Spatial Slash?"
Sebas shook his head lightly. "Everything in existence depends on space to live, just like fish can't survive without water. Some spells and Martial Arts can shatter, cleave, or rip space itself apart and deal unimaginable damage.
"But that black rift is different. It's a spatial fissure, yet it isn't. It's as if the canvas that paints the world has been torn open. Lord Ainz has investigated it himself, but he still hasn't found any answers. What exactly did you see inside that black spatial rift?"
"Nothing," EeDechi answered, sliding her feet into a ready stance. "Just emptiness."
Wait… She suddenly remembered the voice she had heard inside the spatial rift. It had been ethereal and distant, like something drifting in from the ancient depths of time. But no matter how hard she thought about it, EeDechi still couldn't figure out who—or what—had spoken.
"Isn't the sword in your hand equal to a World Item while I'm fighting bare-handed?" Sebas asked with a gentle smile. "That hardly seems fair."
"Who talks about fairness in a fight?" EeDechi snapped, irritation clear in her voice. "You think this is some kind of arena match?"
"But we are in an arena," Sebas replied, his tone suddenly rising. "Fairness must be observed!"
EeDechi's giant sword suddenly tore free from her grip. It floated upward, drifting lazily toward the sky and hanging motionless in the hazy gray expanse above.
"You…" EeDechi stared, weaponless and stunned. She realized something was very wrong with this place.
"This is the duel arena of the World Item Knife and Chopping Board," Sebas explained calmly. "Only bare-handed combat is permitted. Neither of us can leave until one side is defeated or the owner of Knife and Chopping Board gives the command. The name means exactly what it says: I am the knife, and you are the meat!"
Golden light swirled in Sebas's eyes as he triggered his dragon transformation. His white shirt and dress pants burst open like a splitting cocoon, fabric scraps flying everywhere. What stepped out was a towering dragonman—muscles knotted and bulging, scales sharp and angular, claws long and gleaming like blades.
EeDechi pointed straight at Sebas Tian. "Even with bare hands, I can still beat you half to death!"
Sebas snorted out a blast of scorching dragon breath. "Oh? This is my home field!"
He raised one hand. Instantly the ground on both sides of EeDechi cracked open and two massive mountains surged upward. The peaks slammed together like giant palms with a deafening BANG, crushing her between them.
Sebas exploded forward, dragon claws slashing. The shadows of his strikes cut through the air like blades of light.
"Spatial Slash!"
The two mountains shattered into six clean layers of rock. Amid the exploding stone and dust, a fierce black lightning bolt streaked straight at Sebas.
EeDechi roared and swung her hammer-like fists. She twisted just enough to slip past his claws and crashed straight into his scaled body. Their punches and claw strikes collided like two raging rivers. In the blink of an eye the two of them had already traded over a hundred blows.
Fists slammed into flesh with meaty thuds, claw shadows slicing sharp as blades. The two fighters battled from the sky down to the ground. Each impact sent thunderous shockwaves ripping through the air, cratering the earth with one deep pit after another, like meteorites slamming down.
Riiip! EeDechi's right shoulder fabric tore open, and a long, vivid red line of blood sprayed out. She sucked in a sharp breath, leaped back a hundred meters in a few bounds. Checking her wounds, she saw the gash was almost to the bone. Several other cuts had split her clothes, blood welling and pouring freely.
Her powerful regenerative ability was already working frantically to knit the injuries back together. EeDechi gritted her teeth and glared at Sebas, her eyes blazing with surging fury.
In terms of speed and raw power, EeDechi was definitely not at a disadvantage. When physical stats and basic abilities were this evenly matched, it came down to combat technique and the hard-won experience forged through life-and-death battles.
During their last duel in the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Sebas's martial skills hadn't been that far ahead of hers—otherwise it wouldn't have ended in a draw.
But now, Sebas seemed to read the range, direction, and distance of her punches effortlessly. Even EeDechi's desperate last-second adjustments, he could predict exactly where her fists were aiming and react in time.
EeDechi felt like her punches were hitting water—raising huge splashes of force but landing nowhere solid. Sebas's technique hadn't changed much from last time, yet he was always one step ahead of her, seizing every advantage.