The silence was torn apart as a bone-rattling sound erupted from the compressed mass of dark purple energy, which then burst outward in a wide, annihilating wave. It spread with such breadth that it threatened to erase everything in its path entirely.
Yet Leonidas remained unshaken. The incoming attack did not seem to disturb him in the slightest; his expression carried nothing but faint annoyance, as though it were merely an inconvenience rather than a threat.
"Grace upon me… Grace of protection."
An invisible shield of golden light blossomed before him at once. It expanded with sharp precision, extending outward on both sides while narrowing to a focused point of absolute defense. In that instant, it cleaved through the advancing torrent of dark energy, splitting it cleanly in two.
The violent surge fractured against the barrier and was forced aside, carving deep marks into the earth on either flank where the attack had been diverted.
Smoke, dust, and shattered debris erupted outward in its wake, swallowing the battlefield in a dense, rolling haze.
Leonidas stepped forward through the settling dust, then turned back toward Jurgen and spoke.
"All that talk of surpassing every title… and yet here you are, reduced to this pitiful state."
His words were sharp, but not born of cruelty. Rather, they carried the weight of someone forcing another to face an unavoidable truth. He had not arrived in time, yet he understood enough — Thorner was the one Jurgen had faced.
Jurgen lifted his head toward Leonidas. His vision would not fully clear, the world remaining fractured and blurred, but the shape of the man before him was still discernible.
"How pathetic," Leonidas continued. "Watch closely, Jurgen Einzelberht. This is what it means to be an Emperor. Witness the difference in power… and understand just how weak you are."
Without waiting for a response, he turned back toward the abomination, his stance settling into readiness as he prepared to engage.
My grace is limited… and I must end this now. I will raise the stakes and bear the cost, he thought.
He exhaled deeply, then drew in a measured breath as a faint stream of vapor slipped from his lips.
His body surged as Reira flowed heavily through him, thickening his aura. It was not a violent eruption, but a controlled, steady rise — one that contained all the anger he had long restrained.
"Grace of Victory."
With those words, the Reira rose further, as though answering his command. He lowered his stance slightly and locked eyes with the evil before him. In that instant, the universe seemed to shift subtly, yet unmistakably, as if granting him a decisive edge in the battle, a moment of quiet supremacy.
The creature began to gather its deadly attack once more. It was one he could have easily evaded, yet he did not move to avoid it; to do so would be to condemn those behind him to annihilation.
He vanished in a blur that scattered dust in his wake and reappeared at the creature's flank. Without turning, he drove his palm across its face and forced it violently back toward the ground. The unleashed attack followed its forced trajectory and was diverted skyward, where it fractured the darkness and briefly illuminated the entire area in a pale, distant glow.
Leonidas did not hesitate for even a fleeting instant. He seized one of its horns with unbroken certainty and drove the creature downward, dragging it across the ground before hurling it skyward with brutal momentum, sending it arcing above the treetops and into the depths of the forest beyond.
For one of his frame, his strength bordered on the unnatural, as though muscle alone could not account for the force behind his motion.
Without granting the moment time to settle, he followed. His body launched after it in a seamless pursuit, cutting through the air with decisive intent as he carried the battle away from them, deeper into the shadowed wilderness where sight and safety began to thin.
Hazel shot to her feet and sprinted toward Thorner's pale body.
"THERRON!"
She dropped beside him. His body lay still, the wound in his chest hollow, drained of blood. Tears broke from her eyes and streamed down her face without control.
Jurgen remained where he knelt, still trapped in his battered state. The weight of his helplessness pressed down on him, suffocating. Nyugen forced himself upright and walked over, stopping in front of him with quiet pity and concern.
Arrow stayed on one knee, gripping his sword for support, head lowered as if refusing to witness the scene.
Hazel's cries filled the silence, raw and broken, pleading for Thorner to stay alive, though he remained still.
A distant detonation rolled through the forest. Trees split and twisted under the force of colliding power.
Leonidas surged forward. His strike landed into the creature's void-like form. He seized its twin horns and drove a brutal knee into its faceless head before hurling it across the battlefield. The creature recovered mid-motion, reshaping another mass of corrupt energy, but a sudden kick from behind snapped its movement and drove it into the ground.
"Grace of Speed."
The words left Leonidas as the kick landed. He moved like something beyond reach, like something untouchable, but not limitless. Three Graces already spent. He could not afford a prolonged fight. This had to end quickly, before his body reached its limit.
Leonidas understood the cost of haste. It wasn't that he couldn't endure a prolonged fight — it was that wasting his Grace too quickly would leave him exposed. Pushing beyond his natural limit would only tilt the battle further against him.
A slow, controlled breath left him. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, loosening his body, warming himself for what came next. This would not be an easy fight. Not when the creature did not die through normal means. It regenerated fast, almost casually, like damage meant nothing to it.
Across the battlefield, the creature began to charge another beam. Darker this time. Denser. The repetition caught Leonidas' attention. These beings were known for intelligence, yet this one felt off, its actions rigid, unnatural. As if something else was guiding it, forcing it into a single pattern: the same continuous beam, over and over.
Leonidas moved.
He dashed forward, closing the distance instantly. The apparition released the gathered energy in response. A dense, concentrated blast surged toward him, but he did not evade it. He didn't need to.
"Grace of Endurance."
He crossed his arms over his face.
The beam struck him at near point-blank range. The impact was heavier than expected. His body strained under the force, his composure cracking slightly as blood leaked from his nose. The blast tore through his upper clothing, erasing fabric from his chest to his torso, leaving only the lower half intact.
He hadn't taken it to prove strength. He had taken it to confirm a suspicion.
Under normal conditions, that attack shouldn't have been able to do this much. Which meant it had been enhanced, or altered by something behind it.