The green mist still shrouded the area around Zenless. It did not shrink. It did not expand. It simply... existed. Spinning slowly, like a giant vortex waiting for its victim to fall in.
Zenless stood in its center. Not panicking. Not moving.
Casually, he fanned lightly, brushing away the remnants of green vapor that tried to approach his face — as if Gurin's deadly poison was nothing more than street dust disturbing the appearance of his robe.
"I cannot see you," he said, his voice calm, almost bored. "But you cannot hide your breathing either."
From within the mist, Gurin's voice answered. "My breathing? I do not need to breathe, Zenless. I only need... to wait."
The smoke moved. Approaching.
---
Seeing that movement, the corner of Zenless's lips merely lifted slightly. Without changing his standing position, he aimed the tip of his fan forward.
"Golden Beam."
A golden beam shot from the tip of Zenless's fan. Straight, fast, splitting the mist before him with casual precision — like the lazy motion of someone shooing away a fly. However, nothing was hit. The mist merely parted for a moment, then merged back together.
"Aegis of Purity."
A hexagonal golden energy shield appeared before Zenless. Not because he feared the poison, but because fanning away each attack one by one felt too troublesome for him.
From outside the shield, the green mist began to hiss loudly, trying to erode the golden energy wall. Yet, the poison's ripples could not even make Zenless's barrier tremble in the slightest.
"Gleaming Plate Armor."
A layer of golden armor wrapped around Zenless's body, gleaming in stark contrast to the thick green mist. He was not in a hurry. Not a single movement was wasted.
"You are only wasting energy," Gurin taunted, his voice echoing from all directions within the mist. "My poison will not run out. But your energy? How much longer can that shield of yours last?"
Zenless did not answer immediately. He merely let out a long sigh — slightly annoyed, as if he had just heard an old, repeated joke.
He snapped his fan shut with a sharp click, then stared straight into the darkness of the mist.
"You speak of energy limits to the wrong person, Gurin," Zenless said, the corner of his lips lifting into a contemptuous smile. "The real question is... how long can you hold your own breath once I start getting serious?"
Zenless stepped forward. His hand moved again as the blade of his golden fan opened.
"Lance of Judgment."
A solid golden spear formed at the tip of Zenless's fan, spinning slowly in the air. He did not throw it with full force. Only with a light touch, like moving an unimportant chess piece.
The spear shot forward, pierced through the mist, then embedded deep into the stone wall. No blood. No scream.
"You missed," Gurin suddenly whispered from behind Zenless.
Zenless did not turn. His hand was already moving — not out of surprise, but because the motion was already within his calculations. "Midas's Grasp."
A giant golden hand suddenly appeared behind him, grasping empty air with massive crushing force. However, Gurin was no longer there.
"Fast," Gurin said again, his voice coming from another direction several meters away.
"But not fast enough."
Zenless smiled faintly. "You keep running. When will you fight?"
A brief silence. The taunt successfully triggered the Hydra's pride. The green mist around Zenless suddenly churned violently, as if boiling from Gurin's provoked anger.
"Fight?" Gurin's voice hissed, this time feeling so close, echoing from all directions. "Dying in the embrace of my poison does not require a fight, Zenless!"
BOOM!
The mist, which had been moving lazily, now exploded into a thick green storm vortex. The air pressure around them dropped sharply. The poisonous vapor condensed, forming giant tendrils resembling serpent tentacles that immediately tightly coiled around Zenless's hexagonal Aegis of Purity shield.
Cshhhhh—!
A thick, deafening corrosion sound echoed. Slowly but surely, for the first time, small cracks began to appear on the surface of Zenless's golden shield, eroded by the deadly acid density.
Yet, Zenless's expression did not change at all. He did not even glance at his cracking shield.
"Is that all?" Zenless murmured softly.
He stepped forward once. A casual footstep, yet somehow, the stomp of his shoe on the ground created a shockwave that instantly dispersed the mist tendrils near his feet.
The Gleaming Plate Armor enveloping his body began to emit an increasingly bright glow, repelling the thick green mist trying to swallow his figure. Zenless covered half his face with his fan, staring straight into the storm vortex.
"If this is the limit of your best ability..." Zenless paused, his eyes glinting coldly behind the fan's fold. "...then your turn to breathe has run out."
"I am not stalling. I am enjoying it."
Gurin's laughter echoed, blending with the hissing sound of the thickening mist. He felt on top of the world, confident that no matter how strong Zenless was, a human's lungs still had their limits.
Zenless closed his eyes for a moment. The sting in his chest grew more real. However, instead of panicking or weakening, he merely exhaled a long breath — releasing the last of the toxic air from his lungs.
When he opened his eyes, golden lightning in his corneas blazed far brighter than before.
"You enjoy this mist, Gurin?" Zenless murmured, his voice returning to calm, ignoring the sting that had just attacked him.
He did not raise his hand or assume a fighting stance. He only tapped the closed handle of his fan against his chest — directly above the emblem on his protective robe.
"Purification Flare."
WUUUUUSHHH!
Not an outer shield, but from within the folds of his robe and golden armor, a dense, pure golden light exploded outward like molten sacred metal radiating outwards. The golden energy wave swept over Zenless's own body first, erasing every poison particle that had managed to seep into his breath. The sting in his throat vanished instantly.
Not stopping there, the golden wave rapidly expanded into the outside air like shimmering tidal ripples.
Cshhhhhhh—!
Gurin's thick green mist suddenly hissed violently upon colliding with the radiant golden energy. The poisonous vapor was forced to melt and evaporate completely, leaving no space for any foul substance to survive around Zenless.
Several meters before him, Gurin's silhouette, which had been hiding, was now fully exposed as the mist protecting him had been torn and drastically destroyed. Gurin's face appeared wide-eyed with shock, not expecting that his deadly poison could be neutralized so quickly by the dominance of Zenless's golden magic.
Zenless opened his fan again with his familiar lazy motion, covering part of his face, which was now fresh again without a single blemish.
"Your taste for enjoyment..." Zenless paused, looking at Gurin with a contemptuous gaze. "...turns out to be very cheap."
The taunt struck Gurin's pride. His face, which had been shocked, turned red with anger.
"Do not be arrogant, Zenless! You only cleaned the surface!" Gurin shouted furiously.
He stomped both his hands to the ground. Instantly, the core of his magic churned. From the pores of the earth and the remaining hidden energies, a far thicker, darker, foul-smelling green mist exploded outward in massive quantities. This time, his poison was several times more aggressive.
The new mist began to press back. Zenless felt his throat sting again. His eyes burned. His chest felt as if it were being squeezed by invisible hands. The high-level poison began to seep through the gaps in the air he breathed — even his golden robe was overwhelmed by this sudden density.
But he did not panic. His face remained calm. Only his breathing grew slightly heavier.
He flicked his fan once, brushing away the mist before him as if shooing a mosquito.
"You are only delaying," he said, his voice somewhat strained but still cold.
From within the darkened mist, Gurin laughed with satisfaction seeing Zenless finally beginning to be affected. "I am not delaying. I am enjoying watching you gasp like this!"
Seeing his enemy off guard because he felt on top of the world, Zenless decided to act quickly.
"Vesper's Seal."
Zenless clasped his hands together. A large golden bell appeared before Zenless, enveloping the area in front of him — trying to seal the main mist vortex, but inside it was empty. Only empty mist.
"Sovereign's Verdict."
He took a deep breath, forcing his energy to rise. The air around him vibrated violently as golden sparks began to gather above his head, forming a giant hammer that gleamed as it split the green darkness.
The hammer was slammed to the ground with full force.
BOOM!
A massive shockwave swept the front area — the mist split in two, the marble floor shattered and cracked, dust flew high. But Gurin again managed to escape thanks to the mobility of his mist. He was not there.
"You are panicking," Gurin taunted from an unexpected direction. "I can hear it from your voice, which is starting to sound heavy."
Zenless did not answer. He only flicked his fan — slowly — brushing marble dust from his robe's shoulder. He pushed aside the sting in his chest.
He looked toward the direction the voice came from, then said in a flat tone, "I am not panicking. I am just... bored."
---
Right after that sentence was spoken, Zenless tapped the handle of his fan again.
"Golden Replica."
Two copies of Zenless suddenly appeared beside him — formed from opaque golden light with slightly stiff movements. Without wasting time, both replicas ran in different directions, darting into the thick mist.
Gurin could not react in time. His focus was greatly split between three figures moving simultaneously from different angles — which was real? Which was fake?
And in that moment of confusion robbing his opponent's vigilance, the real Zenless had already taken the decisive step.
"Dawnbreaker Wings."
Giant golden light wings materialized and spread wide on Zenless's back, emitting a blinding radiance. In a single flap, sharp energy feathers shot forth like a storm of rain — not in one direction, but in all directions at once. Left, right, front, back. There was no place for Gurin to take shelter.
Sret! Sret!
Cornered by the rain of light blades, Gurin was forced to leave his comfort zone within the mist. He leaped high into the air, trying to avoid the rain of energy feathers eroding his foothold.
However, Zenless had been waiting for that moment.
"Midas's Grasp."
A giant golden hand appeared and immediately grasped Gurin's body in mid-air. This time, his calculation was absolutely accurate.
Gurin was shocked. "You—!"
He could not move. The giant grip held him so tightly.
"Now," Zenless said, his voice unchanged in the slightest — still calm. "Gleaming Prison."
Four golden pillars rose from the ground surrounding Gurin's landing point, then an instant quadrilateral light wall connected all four. Gurin was now completely trapped inside a golden cage.
But, unexpectedly, Gurin did not panic.
Seeing the remaining green mist around the arena still moving under his control, he instead grinned widely. "You trapped me, Zenless. But you also trapped yourself inside my deadly mist!"
Zenless blinked slowly. The air around him was indeed growing heavier. The remaining poison effects were once again extremely pressing on his breathing. His chest felt as if it were being squeezed by thousands of invisible hands, and his vision began to blur slightly.
"The Last Inhalation," Gurin whispered from behind the cage.
Gurin took a long, deep breath. The remnants of green mist throughout the arena suddenly moved backward, massively sucked toward his body. The mist did not disappear, but gathered and condensed, forming a dark vortex core in his chest.
Then, he exhaled with all his remaining life.
"THE LAST INHALATION!"
ROAAARRR!
A giant poison dragon formed from that deadly exhalation. Its form was so solid, dark green and decaying with a pair of blood-red glowing eyes. The dragon's power was so massive that it crushed the Gleaming Prison walls to pieces. The dragon charged forward, its thick roar vibrating the entire arena.
Facing this manifestation of destruction, Zenless did not move an inch.
He only stood tall with his robe billowing, facing directly toward the dragon ready to devour him. No fear. No doubt. Only absolute calm.
In his passively raised palm, a small point of light began to form. Small. Dense. Pulsing slowly, like a heartbeat just awakened from a long sleep.
That point of light did not grow larger, nor did it change shape. It only continued to pulse.
Yet, somehow, all the air around Zenless began to vibrate violently. Not because of the poison dragon's charge, not because of the blowing wind, but because of that small point at Zenless's fingertip — as if the laws of the universe were holding their breath, submitting to something unavoidable.
The green dragon grew closer. One meter. Half a meter. Mere centimeters from the tip of Zenless's nose.
He did not raise his hand to block. Did not retreat. Did not even blink.
Then, with one casual motion, he released it.
Not with an epic shout, not with dramatic theatrical movement. Only by casually opening his palm — like someone releasing a bird from its cage.
"Golden Nova."
That point of light exploded.
It was not a conventional attack. It was an absolute attack that swallowed everything — the mist, the poison, the giant green dragon, even all the air supply around them was incinerated and vanished. An incredibly massive golden light flooded the entire room and blinded.
There was no sound of collision. Only a silent white.
Some time later, when the golden light began to dim and thin, all that remained there was Zenless. He stood upright amidst the thin swirls of smoke. His golden robe was torn in several places, and his left arm was scratched, dripping a single drop of fresh blood.
Meanwhile, Gurin lay helpless on the destroyed floor, no longer moving.
Zenless stood before the body of his defeated enemy. His chest rose and fell with a somewhat fast rhythm. His luxurious golden robe was torn in several places — not because it had been successfully penetrated by Gurin's poison, but because it could not withstand the destructive pressure of his own power's explosion.
He inspected his damaged robe, then let out a long sigh — looking slightly annoyed.
"The stitching will be troublesome."
He snapped his golden fan shut with a neat click. Looked around the now silent room.
"Next opponent?"
No one answered.
---
In the distance, Kin'iro still sat. Still smiling.
He looked at Zenless. Then at Gurin lying defeated.
"Three," he whispered. "Three have fallen."
He did not move. Still waiting.
=== CHAPTER 43 END ===