"It seems this battle has reached a turning point. Open the gates!" Hamza commanded, his voice booming across the walls as he sensed the immense demonic energy now clashing with Cranel.
The gates of Tarth creaked open, and the horde of demons was met by an army of human fighters surging forward with a thunderous battle cry. At the front of the charge was Hamza himself, his towering frame cutting through the chaos like a spearhead. His fists struck with devastating force, each punch shattering bones and sending demons sprawling lifeless to the ground. The sheer ferocity of his blows invigorated the men behind him, who rallied together, striking down monsters with renewed courage.
"Cranel! I am here, brother!" Hamza roared, his voice carrying above the din of battle. "You can let loose! I'll clean up the mess left in your wake! I will be the shield that protects the men as you act as the Lord's sword!"
Cranel smiled faintly, crimson eyes gleaming as he turned toward the monstrous figure before him. His voice rose, steady and resolute, reciting scripture like a battle hymn:
"No weapon formed against me shall prosper,
And every tongue which rises against me in judgment
I shall condemn.
This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord,
And my righteousness is from Him.
That is why I cannot lose!"
With those words, Cranel dashed forward, his blade of light blazing, meeting Sallos head-on. The demon shrieked, a sound so piercing it rattled the battlefield, and lunged with feral speed. His arm-blade swung wildly, each strike fueled by rage. The ferocity forced Cranel onto the defensive, dodging and blocking in rapid succession. The attacks were uncoordinated, primitive, yet unpredictable — a storm of violence.
Cranel pushed himself back with a burst of wind, creating distance. Sallos leapt after him, closing the gap instantly. Cranel grinned, his voice sharp as steel.
"Wind Blade Hurricane!"
A tornado erupted from his hands, enveloping Sallos in a swirling sphere of cutting gales. Within the storm, countless wind blades slashed relentlessly, tearing at the demon's flesh. Sallos roared in fury, his energy surging until he released a devastating blast. The explosion ripped across the battlefield, a shockwave five hundred meters wide.
Dust and rubble consumed the air. When it cleared, Cranel stumbled from the wreckage, his clothes torn, blood streaking his white hair. He rose to his feet, battered but unbroken, surveying the devastation. Both armies had suffered — human and demon bodies littered the ground, the stench of death heavy in the air.
"Hamza! Hamza!" Cranel shouted, staggering forward.
From above, Sallos descended, his blade poised to impale Cranel's back. Murderous intent radiated from him. Cranel turned too late — but before the strike could land, a colossal blow smashed into Sallos' face, sending him flying.
Standing beside Cranel was Hamza, his armor gleaming, flanked by his two apprentices.
"I am here, brother," Hamza said firmly, his presence a pillar of strength.
"Father, are you okay?" Jeremiah rushed to Cranel, concern etched across his face.
"I am okay," Cranel replied with a grin, despite the blood. "Still pretty much in mint condition."
Sallos recovered, snarling as he faced the humans. Raymond stepped forward, his twin blades drawn, his eyes burning with determination.
"Father Cranel, I ask to take over your hunt," Raymond said, his voice unwavering.
Cranel chuckled. "Knock yourself out. Me and Hamza have bigger fish to fry." He glanced at Hamza, who nodded.
"Will you require backup?" Jeremiah asked Raymond.
"No," Raymond replied calmly. "But I will need you to push back the horde. I will join you after I put down this enemy." Jeremiah nodded and dashed toward the gate, his aura flaring.
"Hamza, shall we finally meet the princes?" Cranel asked, his tone grim.
"Let's go, brother," Hamza answered.
"I leave things here in your stead, Raymond," Cranel said as he and Hamza powered through the demon ranks, cutting a path toward the princes.
Raymond stood alone before Sallos, his aura igniting. A golden light burst from his body, towering fifty feet high and stretching twice as wide. The battlefield trembled under its radiance.
"I can use Holy Time at this level for three minutes," Raymond declared, his voice calm yet commanding. "If you survive that time limit, then you have earned my life." His aura compressed, condensing into a faint golden glow around his frame.
In an instant, Raymond vanished, leaving a crater where he stood. Sallos staggered back, shocked — the boy had disappeared. A heartbeat later, Raymond appeared before him, striking with the hilt of his blade. The force sent Sallos flying, crashing through the air.
Satan's eyes widened, exhilarated. "Impeccable! These humans are truly special! Look — that one sent Sallos flying with a single hit!"
Beelzebub sneered. "That one is nothing special. He's not talented, merely reckless. He's pouring all his magic into a single enhancement spell. Speed and strength, nothing else. He's a glass cannon. He won't last long."
Raymond pressed the assault, his speed blinding, striking Sallos again before he could land. Blow after blow rained down, each strike fueled by divine fury.
But Sallos' rage peaked. As Raymond prepared another strike, the demon unleashed another explosion of energy. The blast hurled them both from the sky. Sallos crashed like a meteor, carving a crater, while Raymond landed with controlled grace.
Sallos groaned, his mind reeling. My head… Purson… is he truly gone? I need to rise. He forced himself up, glaring at Raymond.
Raymond stood calm, pulling two rectangular papers from his pocket. "This battle won't last much longer. I only have a minute left."
Sallos snarled. "I must have lost myself to anger. Regardless, human — after I kill you, I will hunt the one who slew Purson, that is if I did not kill him."
Raymond's eyes narrowed. "Don't worry. You couldn't do it."
He hurled his right sword. Sallos sidestepped, smirking — but Raymond was already upon him, charging with his remaining blade.
Sallos swung down his arm-blade, but Raymond dodged, countering with a palm strike to his abdomen. He twisted, landing another open palm strike to Sallos' back, then leapt away, creating space.
Sallos growled. Those blows… insignificant. Why not use the sword? Does this human overestimate himself?
He lunged, swinging viciously. Raymond parried with his blade, then slammed his forehead into Sallos' skull, following with another palm strike to the neck. Sliding beneath the demon, Raymond recovered his thrown sword.
"That should be ten seconds left," Raymond murmured. Planting both blades into the ground, he clasped his hands together.
"Divine Arc!"
The papers Raymond had placed on Sallos during his palm strikes ignited, glowing with divine energy. They exploded, releasing a torrent of holy power that scorched the demon. Sallos staggered, charred and weakened.
Raymond seized the moment, his blades flashing. With a single decisive strike, he decapitated Sallos.
The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat — then the humans roared, their cheers shaking the walls of Tarth. Raymond raised up a single arm, bathing in the cheers and battle cries.