Eugene and Molon had changed the place of their sparring months ago.
It wasn't that they had stopped controlling their strength. No. Instead, both had grown accustomed to unleashing their full power without destroying their surroundings. They were able to focus solely on each other.
Just as Eugene had become familiar with Molon's strength and style of combat, Molon had completed the rehabilitation of power he had not used in hundreds of years. He had recovered a battle sense he had long forgotten.
Raguyaran.
It was the edge of the world, a land of nothingness. A still sea was visible in the far distance, but no sound of waves reached one’s ear. No living thing could be found in this empty land between mountains and sea.
'I am….' Molon gripped his axe with both hands as he thought.
Eugene stood at a distance. His right hand was clasped around the handle of the Holy Sword, and his posture was relaxed and seemingly effortless. However, it was not a reflection of his arrogance. That composure and tranquility were the precursors of myriad possibilities. It allowed Eugene to act and respond in an instant.
'I will no longer be able to defeat Hamel,' Molon acknowledged the fact with a calm acceptance.
He had known it for some time. He had come to this inevitable conclusion half a year ago when Eugene’s sword had first sliced through his axe.
From that point on, the countless possibilities within Eugene had surpassed the power Molon had attained.
The two had sparred daily for half a year.
Molon did not feel like he had become particularly stronger. For him, that half year was akin to a form of rehabilitation.
His prime had been one hundred and fifty years ago, at the dawn of his mission, and in the years since his prime had faded away. His eyes remained keen, but all senses of battle had been dulled by madness.
However, he had shaken off the madness and sparred with Eugene. He had strived to regain what he had lost. He had revitalized his dulled senses. The results were satisfactory, but nonetheless, he had not become stronger than how he had been in his prime.
What about Eugene? While Molon had reclaimed what he had lost, Eugene had gained much more in addition to what he already possessed.
To be stronger than I was yesterday. It was a phrase that could sound like a jest, yet Molon knew all too well it was no mere saying. Indeed, he experienced it firsthand every single day.
It was the same even now. They had sparred yesterday. But was the figure before him truly the Hamel of yesterday? Molon couldn’t help but smile unwittingly.
‘It had to be you.’
Hamel was the reincarnation of an ancient god of war. That was his destiny.
But that was merely a past life he was unaware of. Perhaps Vermouth had chosen Hamel because he was a fated existence, but Molon believed Hamel's uniqueness lay more in his nature than in his past life.
He drove himself to the point of cruelty. He never neglected even a single moment of training. He was undeterred by the pain of a breaking body, and he was never satisfied with what he had but ceaselessly pursued attaining the next step.
Hamel was such a person.
'I am glad to have you as a comrade.'
Molon raised his axe.
'I am grateful I did not go mad before we reunited.'
He sincerely believed that.
Throughout the six months of sparring, Molon felt that he was grateful to have been of help to Hamel. It pleased him that he could do so. If he had completely lost his mind, if he had become so broken that he couldn't even wield his axe, then he would not have been able to accompany Hamel through life and death as he wished.
"Hamel," Molon called out, his gaze traversing the length of his raised axe to meet Eugene's. "You never once gave your all in these six months, did you?"
In terms of victories, Molon held the lead.
It was inevitable. In their duels, Eugene had imposed many restrictions on himself.
He had never used Eclipse. He hadn’t even used Ignition, let alone Prominence. He hadn't even unsheathed his Moonlight Sword, nor had he wielded any other weapon. In all his spars with Molon, Eugene had only ever used the Holy Sword, the White Flame Formula, and the Empty Sword.
"That's right," Eugene nodded in agreement.
The reason he hadn't used those techniques was simple. What Eugene wanted from his spars with Molon was to awaken and consciously control the divinity he possessed and the intuition of Agaroth.
To achieve this, he chose to repeatedly spar and skirt the line between life and death.
If he had used Prominence or Ignition, that type of sparring would have been impossible.
Ignition forced Eugene into short, decisive conflicts. Even though the recoil from using it had diminished as he advanced in the proficiency of the White Flame Formula and the enhancement of his body and Core, using Ignition even once meant days of recovery.
Prominence didn't have the same recoil as Ignition. But upon activation, it would amplify Eugene's firepower, which wasn't what he wanted. Eugene had no intention of engaging in a contest of strength and power in his spars with Molon. His aim was to deflect and counter Molon's strength with something other than brute force.
"Hamel," Molon stopped, a sly smile spreading across his face. "I, too, need defeat."
After hearing his words…
Eugene didn't respond but simply stared at Molon. He did not need to ask what Molon meant by that... he let out a soft chuckle.
Defeat.
Eugene had tasted defeat at Molon's hands many times. Even during the Knight March, despite his excuses, the fact remained that he had been defeated at Molon’s hands. Moreover, the defeats he suffered over the last six months were too numerous to count.
The lessons from each defeat, the realizations of his shortcomings, the additions he made to himself….
He understood them and settled them into his heart.
He didn’t respond to Molon’s words. It was not necessary. Right now, Eugene’s focus was to meet Molon's expectations. Eugene silently sheathed the Holy Sword and stored it in his cloak.
Placing his right hand over his left chest, he stood poised.
Kristina let out a long sigh while watching him from a distance as she said, "It's the first time since he defeated the Demon King of Fury."
[To think he managed to hold back for half a year. He must have wanted to use it every time Molon left him half-dead,] Anise grumbled internally.
Kristina listened while initiating holy magic. Eight wings unfurled behind her, and a radiant light spread beneath her feet.
“Hands,” Kristina said.
At her command, Raimira firmly grasped Kristina’s robe from the left side, and Mer took her right hand. Raimira nodded with a bashful smile after hearing the whisper.
"Yes." Mer considered it an inevitable act to hold Kristina's hand. She needed to hold someone’s hand, and with Lady Sienna absent, the hand of the Saint was the only option left to her.
Had the two Saints been spiteful, she never would have consented to this intimacy. But considering their daily kindness — brushing her hair, helping her dress, even bathing together — it was only natural to reciprocate the favor.
Mer's compliance was one thing, but Raimira had long been devoted to the two Saints. She was even more inclined.
'Mother,' Raimira called out in her mind.
She would one day assert that title boldly. Raimira entertained the thought as she clung to Kristina's robe. Kristina extended her left palm, which was marked with the Stigmata, and erected a barrier.
The creation of the barrier and Eugene's activation of Ignition happened almost simultaneously.
Booooom!
A storm of black flames surged around Eugene. It swirled outward in a growing spiral. The flames were not just black; within them twinkled countless sparkles, making it seem as if an entire galaxy was swirling around Eugene.
The Universe.
Ignition unveiled the universe that Eugene harbored. The universe looked as if it could expand and stretch forever. However, it stopped expanding after a certain point, and with a crackle, lightning began to course between the stars. The universe condensed around Eugene. A gale swept through the land devoid of wind.
"My goodness," Kristina said, shocked.
The mere aftermath of the power shattered Kristina’s barrier. She blinked in disbelief even as she was pushed back by the gust of wind.
"This lady sees it with her own eyes, yet she cannot comprehend it," commented Raimira.
She had transformed her arms into those of a dragon out of concern for the backlash. She shivered. Even as a dragon hatchling, Raimira was overwhelmed by the absurdly immense force emanating from Eugene.
"Yet…," murmured Mer without realizing from behind the dragon's arm that she was using as a cover. "It's beautiful."
Nebulae soared into the sky.
Just as the White Flame Formula and Ignition had transformed, so had Prominence. Though the shape of the wings remained the same, they no longer resembled a flame.
Molon, too, watched Eugene with blank eyes.
Eugene’s universe expanded with the activation of Ignition. Without realizing it, Molon had concentrated his strength into the hand gripping his axe. As the universe condensed and wings of nebulae rose behind Eugene—
"Uhahaha...." Molon laughed while gazing at the ground beneath him.
He could see the marks created by his feet. There were traces of him stepping back. He now noticed the considerable distance between them. When was the last time he had instinctively retreated after feeling such a sense of crisis?
There was a clash of alien hues. A vicious black devoured everything while crimson coursed like blood through veins. Eugene drew forth his divine sword from his chest, a fusion of both colors.
"I won't use the Moonlight Sword," Eugene said.
Luster flitted through his golden eyes as divinity and intuition imbued his thoughts. He held the Divine Sword of Agaroth. Though Eugene Lionheart was increasingly revered as the Hero and his divine power grew, he was still incapable of wielding the Divine Sword repeatedly.
"That sword is dangerous in many ways. But don't feel slighted, Molon," Eugene continued.
Yet, the mere act of drawing the Divine Sword amplified Eugene's divinity.
"This is undoubtedly my full strength," he assured Molon.
He had unleashed Ignition and magnified his firepower with Prominence. And now, he had drawn the Divine Sword, a weapon he could hardly swing more than a few times.
"Uhahahaha…." Molon laughed even though his palms were drenched in sweat. "I’m not confident," he murmured while rubbing the handle of his axe.
It was his first time seeing the sword, yet he could sense what it was.
It was the very symbol of the War God, the weapon that had slain numerous Demon Kings in a bygone era now destroyed. It was the sword that had confronted the Demon King of Destruction.
"Should I call this an honor?" Molon asked. He chuckled while lifting his axe above his head.
Craaackkkk...!
The space around Molon bulged and compressed at once. The area around the axe crackled, then began to ripple. Soon, thin fractures spread like spiderwebs.
'It's a good thing that we're not within the barrier,' Molon thought.
No matter how potent Vermouth's magic was or how perfect the barrier was, if two powers of such abnormal magnitude collided — the barrier might very well shatter.
Or rather, it should have been a concern about the independent world itself.
Molon had never gauged the full extent of his power. With mere brute force, he could pull and crumble the axes of space. He could overturn and destroy the laws that naturally applied to this world with simple strength.
He had never had to exert his full strength to achieve such feats. It just happened when he willed it.
"Moreover…," said Molon.
Crack, crackle, craaackkk.
His veins bulged visibly. His hair fluttered like flames. He lowered his stance while baring his clenched teeth. Then said, "It’s a necessary act."
If he had never gauged his full strength before, now was the time to exert it. To clash, and if he failed — to aspire.
‘This is what I want,' Molon affirmed in his mind.
Kwoooong!
Molon stepped forward.
To them, at this moment, distance meant nothing. With a single step forward, Molon brought his axe down.
It was a blow that was backed with all his might. And he had prepared no follow-up. He didn’t need to worry about what came after since his strike was meant to be fatal. If this strike did not suffice, then it could only mean one thing.
'Is this so?’ Eugene thought.
He watched as his Divine Sword, a blend of engulfing black and blood-red, was enveloped by the light from Molon's axe swing. The sword was wondrous in its own right. However, it did not stand alone. The sword was augmented by the flames of the White Flame Formula, or rather, the universe.
It was vast.
In that fleeting moment, Molon realized his own smallness. He had never thought of himself as small. In his world, he had always been larger than most — his stature, his strength, and even the axe he wielded. Everything about Molon Ruhr was monumental.
But not now. Against the encroaching universe, he felt distinctly minuscule. Oddly, or perhaps comically, he wasn't displeased by this revelation. It did not humiliate him.
He was content.
Having witnessed such grandeur, Molon could envision his next step. His current diminution, his defeat, meant he could aspire to be greater, stronger in the times to come.
"Hahahaha." Molon laughed heartily before setting his axe aside.
It wasn't like last time. He wasn't cut, nor was the handle of his axe broken, and he sustained no injury.
"I've lost, indeed,” admitted Molon.
But he could not push the axe further. The Divine Sword had not cut through Molon's weapon nor his flesh, yet it had vanquished his will.
"Are you satisfied?" asked Eugene.
Eugene laid down the Divine Sword as he fought to catch his breath. With a grin, Molon plunged his axe into the ground.
"I've learned that I am not strong,” said Molon.
"You are strong,” retorted Eugene.
"Not stronger than you, Hamel,” admitted Molon.
Molon raised his hands, empty of the axe, and said, "Knowing I am weak, I cannot settle for where I am now. This axe, I shall not wield again until I've surpassed myself."
Ignition ended, and Prominence faded. The wavering universe retreated back into black flames and dispersed. Eugene fought the urge to collapse as he focused on regulating his breath.
'It feels like I'm dying from just a moment's use,' Eugene thought ruefully.
He thought the recoil had lessened, but it appeared he was wrong. Was it because the power he wielded had grown even larger? Molon stood intact after conceding. But despite being the victor, Eugene was wavering. He struggled to maintain his expression and stance.
"I promise... no, I vow." Molon approached Eugene and offered a handshake. “I will become stronger than I am now."
"Of course, you should,” responded Eugene.
He managed to force out a smile and grasped Molon's hand.
The return grip was so firm that he had to clench his teeth to stifle a cry of pain.