Seeing the earth shards rushing toward him at breathtaking speed, Orien clicked his tongue in irritation.

Tsk, troublesome...

But instead of retreating, he charged straight into the barrage. His pupils twisted into spiraling red and black, and the world around him seemed to sink into molasses. Every shard, every fluctuation of mana, every minute shift in trajectory became painfully clear to him.

He stepped on the air itself, using compressed demonic energy as footholds, twisting his body at impossible angles as he slipped through the gaps between the shards. His movements were sharp yet controlled, as if he were dancing through a storm he had already memorized.

One spike still managed to scrape across his stomach, tearing flesh and drawing blood. The wound burned for an instant before demonic energy surged through it, sealing it shut within seconds.

Tsk...

He disliked getting hurt, not because it frightened him, but because the ones he was fighting were not worthy enough to injure him.

His gaze shifted toward the Elven Saint who had launched the attack, only to notice another Elven Saint standing behind him, supporting the falling Saint. Without wasting even a breath, Orien kicked off the air and vanished.

In the blink of an eye, he appeared before them, his demonic sword already descending.

But before the blade could land, both Saints disappeared.

-CLANG!!!!!

-SWISH!!

-SWISH!!

The strike was intercepted. Two Elven Saints materialized in front of him. One braced behind a massive shield, barely holding his ground as demonic energy rippled outward. The other met Orien's sword head-on, steel screeching as sparks scattered through the air.

At the same moment, pressure surged from Orien's blind spots.

Alice and Mark appeared.

Mark lunged first, his spear thrusting forward with terrifying precision. Violet space mana wrapped around his body, forming a layered armor, while a crown of distorted space hovered above his head. The spear's tip warped the air itself as it aimed directly for Orien's throat.

Alice followed a heartbeat later. Darkness clung to her like a living shadow, her presence nearly dissolving into the surroundings. Only her eyes burned clearly, sharp and predatory. With her long dark cloak fluttering behind her, she slashed her daggers toward Orien's heart and temple, striking with flawless coordination.

Everything converged at once.

As the two Elven Saints vanished from their previous positions, four Saints closed in around Orien from every direction, leaving no apparent path of escape.

Orien observed it all calmly.

Then he smiled.

**

Let us see how you escape this...

The thought passed through Alice's mind as her daggers struck.

-BAMM!!!!!!

-Spurt!!

An overwhelming force rebounded instantly. Alice and Mark both vomited blood as their organs screamed in protest. Their bodies were hurled backward, sent spinning through the air before they crashed several meters away.

What the hell is that....Although I saw other getting beaten, this is something else...

The shock rattled her thoughts. She had fought Orien before, but this was nothing like those encounters.

Back then, it felt like he was testing us, holding back, almost indifferent. Or maybe he was stalling us, buying time while the demons attacked the academy...

She wiped the blood from her lips and forced herself upright, only for her eyes to widen in horror.

During the gap their retreat created, another Elven Saint was cut down mid-air, his body split cleanly apart by Orien's blade. His Sword falling to the side.

The Saint who had been supporting him with the shield retreated desperately, his face pale and eyes bloodshot.

That power... Close range attacks rebound directly, and long range attacks are useless if he can dodge them like this...

Her jaw tightened. Staying at a distance was impossible. If the melee fighters pulled back, Orien would simply tear through the long range Saints one by one.

And she was not the only one who realized it.

Every Saint present felt the same creeping dread settle into their hearts.

They were all caught in the same deadly bind, forced to fight an enemy who seemed to punish them no matter which path they chose.

"Now this is getting boring, playing cat and mouse with me…"

Orien's words landed like provocation carved into steel. The Saints responded instinctively, their hesitation vanishing as they attacked with renewed ferocity. They pressed him relentlessly, refusing to give him even a moment to breathe.

Yet Orien moved like a phantom drifting through a battlefield. Every attack narrowly missed him, not because he struggled to evade them, but because he expended the bare minimum effort required. Close range strikes barely earned his attention. He neither rushed nor panicked. His focus remained fixed on the Saints still hovering in the air above, as if the ones engaging him directly were little more than background noise.

That indifference weighed heavily on everyone present.

The atmosphere grew oppressive, fear seeping into their bones. What unsettled them most was the simple truth they could not ignore.

Orien had not even taken his demon form yet. It was common knowledge that demons capable of polymorphing into human shapes could only display around seventy to eighty percent of their true strength in this state.

And nor had he used a real weapon or deployed his domain and yet everyone was being beaten like dogs.

No one dared imagine what would happen if he shed that restraint.

For a brief stretch of time, Orien made no aggressive moves. He only observed, drifting through attacks with calm precision.

Then everything shattered as Orien again blocked mana of a floating Saint.

"MYRA!"

Mark and Alice shouted at the same time, horror flooding their voices. Their eyes locked onto her falling body, dropping freely from the sky as if all invisible support had been severed.

Before either of them could move, Orien appeared beside her, silent and sudden, like a reaper answering a call.

"Say goodbye, human."

Her mana had already been sealed. She struggled desperately, trying to force her way through the invisible bindings restraining her, but it was useless.

-SLASH!!

The blade flashed.

Her head separated from her body, and blood erupted outward, raining down across the battlefield and splattering the ground and the surrounding Saints alike.

Nichole and Maelis, locked in brutal combat against the three Generals, could do nothing but watch. The Saints were fighting without mana, relying purely on willpower. Even then, their control was crude. Willpower was undeniably powerful, but manifesting it properly was hard even for someone at Saint rank.

After all they only get the access to will power at Mythical rank. Of course, there are exceptions that get will power access way before reaching Mythical rank.

"NOOOO!!!!!"

Rage and despair twisted the faces of every Saint present. Their eyes burned red as they stared at Orien, hatred boiling over.

Orien laughed.

The sound echoed through the shattered battlefield, cold and mocking.

In that moment of burning rage, Mark sent his thoughts directly to everyone present.

"Ignore this bastard. All of you attack the black sphere at once. Let us see whether he chooses to protect it or kill us."

Their minds churned as they processed his words. Despite losing a precious human Saint, Mark remained frighteningly rational. There was no doubt why he stood as the head of the Human Association.

The Elven Council head glanced at Mark, seeing him in a new light, before sighing inwardly.

It is a gamble. More of us may die. But if we let this stalemate continue, we will be slaughtered one by one.

The decision was made.

They abandoned Orien in unspoken agreement and rushed toward the distant black sphere. Attacks of every kind were unleashed simultaneously. Fire roared. Ice howled. Earth shattered. Lightning tore through the air. Space warped. Darkness swallowed light. Sword slashes and spear thrusts followed, all converging toward the same point.

But before any of it could reach the sphere, Orien appeared like a wind.

He stood directly in front of the oncoming storm, his expression finally turning serious. He raised no defense and made no attempt to evade. His gaze locked onto Mark with chilling intent.

In that instant, Mark felt it.

His mana froze.

Then the attacks arrived.

-BOOM!!!!!

The explosion shook the battlefield, swallowing Orien in a blinding cascade of power. For a fleeting moment, hope flickered.

Then their expressions twisted in disbelief.

Through the chaos, they could still feel it.

Orien's life force, vast and vigorous, surged unabated.

-THRUMM!!!!!!!!!!!

Suddenly, Orien's sword shot toward Mark at neck breaking speed.

Alice reacted instantly. The moment she saw the blade moving and realized that Mark's mana had already been sealed, she threw herself in its path and intercepted the flying sword at the very last second.

-Clang!!!

"Urghh!!!!"

Even after blocking it, the impact forced her to stagger backward. Each step she took carved deep craters into the ground beneath her feet as she struggled to steady herself.

Damn it… it feels like I am fighting someone a whole rank above me…

She cursed inwardly, yet she knew that could not be true. After Saint rank, the gap between ranks was absolute. Someone weaker would not even be able to resist. They would kneel or die without exception.

If Orien were truly above their rank, they would have already been wiped out.

Then why is the gap between us this terrifying…

Her teeth cracked from how hard she clenched them. The pain in her body faded the moment her mind recalled Myra's final expression and the image of her severed head lying somewhere on this blood soaked battlefield. Rage surged, drowning out everything else.

All of this passed through her mind in a blink, for a Saint's thoughts moved faster than ordinary perception.

The demonic sword that Alice had deflected did not lose its momentum. Instead, it curved unnaturally through the air. In the same instant, it sealed the mana of another Saint mid flight and then pierced straight through the heart of an Elven Saint who had no time to react.

Her body burst apart midair. Unlike those fighting at close range, her physique was weaker, unable to endure the residual force.

Mark felt Orien's gaze lift from him. His mana flow stabilized, but the price was immediate and cruel.

Another Saint had died.

Not even five minutes have passed. Six Saints have their powers sealed and unable to fight. Four are dead. Only six of us remain…

Mark's expression darkened, and the same grim realization spread across every remaining face. His eyes tracked the demonic sword as it streaked through the air once more, this time heading toward another Saint. A few close range fighters were already rushing to intercept it.

Then his eyes widened.

Fuck!!!!

He screamed inwardly and turned sharply, charging toward the Saints battling the Demon Generals. He had seen it, everyone saw it.

Orien was already moving.

A second sword of demonic energy had formed in Orien's hand and he vanished like a blur. The dust and debris from the previous clash still lingered in the air, but it was nowhere near enough to obscure their sight.

They rushed at the same time towards the way he was moving, but....

They were too slow.

Orien's body overflowed with excess energy gained from all those attacks done by the Human and Elven Saints.

He used only a fraction of it, yet he appeared instantly before the six Saints locked in combat with the Demon Generals. Without hesitation, he swung his sword in a wide horizontal arc.

"Die!!!"

Nichole, Maelis, and the others eyes were horrified and they did everything they could to retreat. They pushed their bodies beyond their limits, but the attack was overwhelming. It felt as though the strike carried the combined power of dozens of Saints.

The crescent slash engulfed them.

-BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***

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