Caron's blatant provocation finally stirred the Mercenary King, Nelson, to rise from his seat. But even after watching his prized subordinates be wiped out in an instant, his expression remained relaxed.
"You've exceeded expectations," Nelson said, his voice booming. "So the rumors weren't exaggerated after all."
Along with his voice, Nelson's mana surged outward in all directions.
Groans erupted throughout the arena. Even seasoned pirates, who had weathered countless battlefields, were now grimacing and barely withstanding the pressure of his presence.
Boom!
Without hesitation, Nelson leapt forward and landed before Caron. The sunlight glinted off the golden armor adorning his body, casting dazzling reflections.
"Your swordsmanship was quite the spectacle," Nelson said. "A real treat for the eyes. But it's clear now that you'll be a hindrance to my plans."
"I am Xenon, the Sixth Hero," Caron said firmly.
"Caron Leston," Nelson replied without a blink.
"Is your brain made of muscle too? You're spouting nonsense," Caron shot back.
"Heh. I figured you'd say that," Nelson chuckled. "Still, thanks to you showing up in person, this'll be much simpler."
Srrrkt.
Nelson unsheathed his sword from a crimson scabbard, curling his lips into a smile and saying, "It's been a long time since I've fought someone at your level. It's rare to cross swords with someone who's reached 8-Star."
Caron recalled what Kynda had told him about Nelson.
This was the man who had climbed to the top and claimed the title of Mercenary King. Regardless of ambition or scheming, the position required raw power as a baseline.
Kynda had warned him not to take Nelson lightly.
Nelson was a warrior who had survived countless warzones. In battle, he was more seasoned, more relentless, than anyone Caron had faced.
And more importantly, Nelson wielded a strange form of swordsmanship.
Srrrkt.
From beneath his cloak, Nelson drew another sword. In his right hand, he held a longsword about the length of Guillotine. But in his left hand, he gripped a much shorter blade, barely half the size. They were two swords of mismatched lengths.
Unlike anything Caron had faced before, these blades weren't forged with any regard for form; they were weapons designed solely to kill.
"I admit you're in a different league than the other brats," Nelson said. "So I'll gladly accept your challenge."
Crimson mana surged from Nelson's body. Its bestial force began to push back the sea of mana Caron had spread throughout the arena, gnawing into that same sea.
"This bastard... He's something else," Guillotine murmured in grudging admiration.
Caron wasn't winning in terms of raw mana. For a so-called mercenary, Nelson's power was absurdly immense.
"Let's have some fun, kid!" Nelson shouted as he stepped into the sea, slicing through it with his stride.
His red longsword came flying for Caron's throat, carrying a dense aura that effortlessly cut through the swirling whirlpools Caron had conjured.
Clang!
Caron calmly lifted Guillotine and deflected the blow.
But then, with a flick of his wrist, Nelson tossed his short sword into the air and immediately detonated it with a burst of mana.
Clang!
The black blade soared through the air and bent like a boomerang, arcing straight back toward Caron. Simultaneously, Nelson regained his stance and thrust his long sword forward again.
The two attacks closed in with exquisite timing.
Caron found himself smiling despite the danger, thinking, Now this is fun.
There was no elegance and no artistry. There was nothing noble about it. In fact, calling it swordsmanship was almost insulting.
A blade that aims only for the kill, Caron thought.
All weapons were created to end lives. In that sense, Nelson's swordplay was true to its most primal purpose.
Block one, and the other pierces your throat, Caron thought.
Such precise staggered timing spoke volumes about Nelson's battlefield experience. Blocking both was virtually impossible.
For one person alone, that is, Caron thought.
Clang!
Caron couldn't block them alone...
But it would be possible if he wasn't alone.
Caron summoned a clone to knock away the boomerang-like shortsword, while he himself deflected Nelson's red longsword with Guillotine.
Clang!
Mana clashed and tangled, generating a massive shockwave. That wave rocked the arena—already half-destroyed—and shook it to its very foundations.
"Guh-huk!"
"Aaaargh!"
Screams erupted from every corner of the arena.
Mercenaries, pirates, and even nobles collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood. The shockwave from the clash of two warriors who had reached 8-Star was monstrous. It was so intense that it tore through the bodies of anyone too weak to withstand it.
Yet, at the eye of the storm, the two men responsible stood calmly, glaring at one another without the slightest tremor in their expressions.
Nelson brought his black sword back into his hand with a pulse of mana, then licked his lips slowly and said, "You haven't been an 8-Star for long, but you handle yourself well."
"I was born an 8-Star," Caron replied with a smirk.
"Hehehe... So the rumors were true. You really are insane," Nelson said.
"My name is Xenon," Caron said with a crooked grin. "I'm the man who will take your head and become the next Mercenary King... Not that you'd believe that."
"I heard you'd absorbed the power of a doppelganger," Nelson said, eyes narrowing. "At first I wasn't sure, but it's true, isn't it? And at this point, what makes you any different from the demons?"
"I like demons too," Caron said coolly.
"Oh? So you're finally showing your true colors?" Nelson asked.
"I like killing demons," Caron answered. His tone changed, turning razor-sharp.
He twirled his sword lightly, his eyes fixed on Nelson with a look that could only be described as amused.
"We've figured each other out by now, haven't we? Why drag this out any further?" Caron asked.
"You're in a rush," Nelson said with a chuckle. "Fine cuisine is meant to be savored slowly."
"Why bother with all that trouble?" Caron asked, his voice dismissive.
Whoosh.
Azure mana—clear and deep like the abyss—began to surge from Caron's body once again, flooding the space around them without restraint.
"Let's end this with one clean blow," he said.
A drawn-out fight was a bad idea. Caron knew that instinctively. The man standing before him had accumulated more real combat experience than he could ever match—even across lifetimes.
The longer the fight lasted, the more likely it was that Nelson would find openings, take control, and turn the tide.
As Caron's massive wave of mana spread, Nelson let out a low, appreciative whistle and said, "If I'd met you five years from now, I'd have lost with nothing to say. I acknowledge your talent."
True to his veteran instincts, he had seen right through Caron's intent.
"You're going to summon that moon again, aren't you?" Nelson asked.
The memory of the moon shattering was still fresh in his mind. Though they were enemies, Nelson couldn't help but respect the sheer majesty of Caron's swordplay.
It was the kind of technique every swordsman dreamed of—harsh, overwhelming, and achingly beautiful. The thought of facing it again made his heart beat faster.
This place was no different from the battlefield. And the kid standing before him was strong enough to make even a seasoned mercenary king tense with anticipation.
"There's no running from this," Nelson muttered, smiling as he stared forward.
But it wasn't just one moon this time. Before him hovered five moons, each created by a different Caron.
It was an overwhelming, terrifyingly vast amount of mana. Even for a knight who had reached 8-Star, this level of force could only mean one thing: Caron had poured in everything he had.
There's no avoiding this, Nelson thought.
He couldn't dodge that kind of attack. If he even tried, it would crush him where he stood. The cunning rookie had forced his hand.
"So sly," Nelson muttered.
He raised his hand lazily and waved toward the stands behind him. Screams burst out immediately from the audience.
"Gaaah!"
"M-Mercenary King!"
Dark tendrils appeared in the air, snaking out and linking themselves to Nelson. There was no doubt—it was dark magic.
Caron gave a dry laugh, then asked, "You're not even bothering to hide it anymore?"
"If I want to bring down both you and the Queen in one sweep, then I have no choice," Nelson said. "Victory doesn't require honor—only results. History is written by the winner, kid. I'll make sure to leave your head intact. I'll need it to bargain with the Ducal Family of Leston."
Both of Nelson's swords began to carve massive arcs through the air. A blood-red sun flared into existence above them, rising as if born from the screams of the crowd.
"I'm already seeing what lies beyond the wall, Caron Leston," Nelson said. "This little game ends here."
The arrogant Mercenary King smiled. The sun, infused with dark mana, glowed ominously in the sky.
"Seria," Caron said softly.
The saintess sighed and immediately began sealing off the surrounding space. She said with a hint of strain in her voice, "...Even with my power, I can't fully suppress this."
When two warriors at 8-Star clashed at full strength, even the power of light couldn't stop all casualties.
But Caron simply nodded, his confident smile never wavering. He said, "It's fine. It won't be as dangerous as you think."
He raised his gaze to the crimson sun burning above him—and then, without a moment of hesitation, hurled a moon straight into it.
Moments later...
Boom!
With a thunderous roar loud enough to rupture eardrums, moon and sun collided and twisted into chaos.
***
Leo narrowed his eyes and looked down at the arena below. He thought, That crazy bastard!
An explosion had erupted with such force it felt as if it could rip his core apart. Leo quickly scanned his surroundings—most of the spectators had already collapsed, unconscious.
If he hadn't instinctively drawn up mana to shield his core, Leo could have ended up just like them. That was how terrifying the explosion had been.
"Are you all right?" Queen Kynda asked, gently patting his back.
Leo barely managed a nod in response. "I... I can endure it."
Kynda chuckled softly and said, "As expected of Duke Halo's grandson. That blast would've shattered a normal knight's core. You've grown quite a bit since I saw you in the Southern Great Forest."
Upon hearing her praise, Leo gave a strained smile, then turned his eyes back toward the arena.
Or rather, what had once been the arena. It had been utterly destroyed—no longer recognizable. At its center now yawned an impossibly deep crater.
There was no sign of Caron or the Mercenary King.
"Did Caron win?" Leo asked cautiously.
Kynda tilted her head, a cryptic smile playing on her lips, then answered, "The moon devoured the sun... but whether he won or not, I don't know."
"What do you mean by—" Leo began, but was cut off.
"Stay here," Kynda interrupted. "It's my turn now."
She stepped forward and wrenched her spear from the ground where it had been embedded. Gripping the shaft with practiced ease, she leapt lightly into the pit.
The stench of blood choked the air. Mercenaries drained of all their life force by Nelson lay dead in various places, having died coughing up blood.
Several nobles who had been watching the match from the spectator stands were torn apart beyond recognition by the collision of the sun and moon, their lives brought to an end.
Clicking her tongue, Kynda landed in the crater and swept her spear in a wide arc, clearing away the lingering dust.
And then she saw him. A lone figure standing tall in the very center—eyes glowing with a brilliant, unmistakable blue.
It was Caron.
"Are you planning to reveal your true identity now?" Kynda asked.
Caron grinned playfully and answered, "My disguise broke. The artifact's busted. I guess I'll have to ask the Imperial Magic Tower Master to fix it."
"Sometimes I really do wonder where your vitality comes from," Kynda muttered, scanning him from head to toe.
Blood streamed from Caron, soaking the ground beneath him. His right arm, the one holding his sword, was half-severed and dangled loosely. A deep gash ran across his neck.
And yet, he stood.
"You won," Kynda said.
Caron gave a noncommittal shrug and replied, "It's not over yet."
"What do you—?" Kynda asked, but was interrupted.
"Kuhhh..."
Nelson, who had collapsed on the ground, rose to his feet once more. However, Kynda felt something unfamiliar about him.
"What a splendid body," Nelson said, smiling as he looked down at himself.
His body, as battered as Caron's just moments ago, had begun to regenerate at a terrifying pace.
Sensing danger, Kynda immediately hurled her spear.
Slash!
It tore through the air, aiming straight for Nelson's chest, but a violet blade appeared out of nowhere and swatted the Queen's spear away mid-flight.
Clang!
"This is the perfect time to claim your head, Caron Leston," Nelson sneered.
His eyes gleamed purple, and a multitude of weapons floated behind him, each one pulsing with grotesque dark mana.
Clicking her tongue again, Kynda recalled her spear.
"This wasn't part of the deal, Caron," she said. "You didn't mention I'd be up against this kind of monster."
"Oh come on," Caron replied with a smirk. "You had to have guessed already. Don't act surprised now."
"Not exactly the best odds for a two-person fight," Kynda muttered. "You're practically a corpse at this point. And that... That's the Demon King of Slaughter possessing Nelson's body. This won't be easy."
Kynda had figured it out quickly.
It was the Demon King of Slaughter himself. A monstrous, blood-soaked entity had taken residence inside the Mercenary King.
But Caron just waved lazily and smiled, then said, "Well then... It's time to hold up your end of the deal, Dark Magic Tower Master. Show us what you're worth."
"Of course."
A moment later, hundreds of chains rained down from the sky.
Caron looked up at the descending trap and smirked with satisfaction.
"Welcome to the snare," he said. "We've met before, haven't we?"