In the eyes of the soldiers and Beastmen, that afterimage seemed frozen in time, lingering motionless where it stood.
In that instant, Maliketh moved like a ghost. With astonishing speed, he circled around Nolan and silently appeared behind him.
His movements were sharp and decisive, and his blade still aimed straight for Nolan's head.
Nolan reacted just as quickly. He spun around, and the Promised Claymore in his hand swept out in a horizontal slash like a whirlwind.
With a deafening clang, the Promised Claymore and the Black Blade slammed together, the sound of colliding metal ringing through the battlefield.
The two blades ground violently against each other, scattering dazzling sparks.
Both the Promised Claymore and the Dark Moon Greatsword inside the Spirit Ring had been reforged by Nolan, fused with the Smithing Stones given to him by the Ancient Dragons. They were now true god-slaying weapons, and even against the Black Blade imbued with Destined Death, they did not fall behind in the slightest.
Nolan and Maliketh locked eyes, and Nolan could see surprise in his opponent's gaze.
Maliketh suddenly pulled back, opening some distance between them. Then, almost at the same time, both of them swung their greatswords with all their strength.
The golden Promised Claymore and the dark-red Black Blade carved two brilliant arcs through the air, sweeping across the ground like the scythes of death.
The instant the two arcs met at the center, they exploded with a thunderous roar.
Power on the level of gods intertwined and collided in that moment, and their mutual annihilation sent out a tremendous wave of energy.
The lingering energy became countless radiant particles, blooming in the air like fireworks and giving off a mesmerizing light.
Beautiful colors could easily dazzle the eyes. In the midst of that brilliant glow, Nolan's Promised Claymore pierced through the energy field and thrust straight toward Maliketh.
Maliketh dropped back into his beastlike posture and lowered himself, letting the Promised Claymore scrape across his shoulder armor.
Sparks burst where sword met armor, and an ominous flame flared to life along Maliketh's Black Blade.
The flame seemed to possess a deadly power of its own, leaping and dancing as it radiated a heat that made the heart tremble.
Nolan closed in on Maliketh, and Maliketh did not hesitate for even a moment. He swung the Black Blade backhanded.
If that strike landed, it could have cleaved Nolan in two. Unfortunately for him, Nolan vanished from his sight at that exact moment.
That extreme speed, so fast that even someone as powerful as Maliketh could not track it with the naked eye, was Caria's Bloodhound's Step.
Maliketh cursed under his breath. "Damn it!"
He only needed to trust his senses to know Nolan had already appeared behind him.
It was the fastest footwork in the world, created by Caria, a magical martial art capable of crossing even space itself, and one of the highest techniques pursued by countless warriors.
This technique demanded extraordinary mastery of both magic and martial arts from its user, and the Bloodhound Knights were known throughout the world because of it.
Maliketh's reaction was fast. Almost the instant Nolan disappeared, his movement had already changed.
What had originally been a simple upward slash became a turning horizontal slash as he twisted around.
Both he and Godfrey were mighty warriors who had carved out great names in the ancient era.
They had spent thousands of years, if not tens of thousands, amid the world's slaughter.
Compared with those immature Demigods, martial skill was by no means their weakness. On the battlefield, sensing danger was only the most basic ability.
The Promised Claymore in Nolan's hand came down toward Maliketh's head, and the two greatswords rang out in another sharp collision.
Maliketh suddenly felt the pressure on his hand loosen again. Nolan had vanished once more, yet the greatsword was still clearly in front of him.
The Promised Claymore spun, its hilt circling behind him. Nolan caught it there and brought it down in another chop.
Maliketh lowered his body, his left arm suddenly exerting force as it gripped the ground. He threw himself away.
This time, the Promised Claymore scraped past his right shoulder armor, shaving away a small piece of armor along with flesh and blood.
Nolan should have continued pursuing him, but Maliketh, who had just been dodging sideways, was no longer beside him.
The Black Blade, so easy to lose sight of, had also disappeared.
On the ground, however, three deep footprints remained, proof that in that instant, the werewolf had moved at a speed beyond ordinary imagination.
Sethlin and Asimi, who were temporarily acting as Nolan's shoulder armor, were startled. They risked peeking around and found that the place where they stood seemed to be wrapped in red threads.
Those red lines were strange. They could be seen on the ground and on the walls, as if a vast net that sealed heaven and earth had trapped them inside.
"This guy was born to be an assassin," Nolan said. He had seen Maliketh's movements clearly. That speed had already reached the limit.
What Maliketh left behind were not threads, but a chain of afterimages.
They were false images created as he dragged the Black Blade through the air at extreme speed, elusive as ghosts and nearly impossible to pin down.
And the werewolf was not only fast. In his hand, he carried Destined Death, which could kill most living beings in the Lands Between with a single cut.
Maliketh could truly be called the strongest assassin in the Lands Between. The Black Knife assassins were far behind him.
Nolan controlled Asimi and had her return into his body, then casually tossed Sethlin away.
Florissax suddenly saw a red-haired little girl rushing straight toward her and hurriedly opened her arms to catch her.
Maliketh seemed like a fierce wolf that had found its prey, instantly pushing his speed to the utmost limit.
His body was like a bolt of black lightning as he lunged straight at Nolan, the Black Blade in his hand blazing with flames as though it meant to kill the entire world.
Nolan was not slow either. The Promised Claymore danced, and with his left hand, he summoned the Dark Moon Greatsword and swept it upward in a backhanded strike.
The two passed each other in an instant. Nolan still stood where he had been, and Maliketh was still crouched low on the ground.
There was blood on the Dark Moon Greatsword. It was not Nolan's.
Maliketh slowly lowered his head and stared at the crimson flame on his chest. An indescribable heat and pain surged through him like a tide.
The flame seemed alive, greedily devouring his body. Even the black armor on him looked as though it would melt beneath that blaze.
This black armor looked thin, but in truth, it had been forged to the standards of war between gods.
The materials used to make it were in no way inferior to the precious treasures used to forge god-slaying weapons.
"I'll risk it all!"
Maliketh gritted his teeth, forcing himself to endure the unbearable burning pain in his chest. With ruthless resolve, he charged at Nolan again.
In an instant, a rapid series of clangs rang out, and dozens of dazzling sword lights burst between them.
Those sword lights intertwined, colliding through high-speed slashes as black fire and red flame clashed fiercely in the air.
The exchange was so intense that even the surrounding space seemed to be torn apart.
No one could approach the center of the battle anymore. Countless buildings were instantly reduced to dust beneath that terrifying power, and Farum Azula's eastern district began to collapse even faster.
At that moment, Maliketh was like a cornered beast. His attacks surged forward one wave after another like a storm, pouring out his power without holding anything back.
But as time passed, his speed grew slower and slower, while Nolan's only grew faster.
Nolan's body was gradually being consumed by Destined Death, yet Maliketh found him harder and harder to withstand.
There were more and more wounds on Maliketh's body. The longer the battle went on, the more he wanted to retreat, but Nolan gave him no chance.
The storm of tangled sword light tore at the entire city, and Nolan pursued the werewolf.
The Destined Death burning on his body had never gone out for even a moment, yet his sword light had not slowed in the slightest.
Maliketh simply could not understand it. He could not understand how Nolan could still swing his sword so ferociously while being burned by Destined Death.
That confusion lasted until the arm holding his sword was severed. Then came a sharp pain in his chest.
Marika...
Maliketh's final thought was still of the sworn sister who had betrayed him. Yet in his last moment, even as that name crossed his mind, he did not know what to say.
In midair, he had no more time to think. Nolan's figure grew larger and larger in Maliketh's eyes.
The Promised Claymore and the Dark Moon Greatsword overlapped like a pair of giant scissors, cutting through Maliketh's body.
He felt the world spin before his eyes, and everything became blurred and indistinct.
The Shadow-bound Beast who had pursued death had finally received death.
***
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
[email protected]/PinkSnake (50 Chapters Ahead).
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.
***