The sky was a gaping wound, torn open by Atraval's descent. Lightning crackled in reverse, coiling upward into the rift above. The black mist that followed him touched the ground and withered grass, stone, even air. The battlefield—scorched, cracked, trembling—was a place of death, yet it throbbed with defiance.
The Demon Lords and True Dragons stood in a wide arc, bruised, bloodied, but not broken.
Atraval descended slowly, like a reaper lowered by his own gravity. His feet touched the earth, and the shockwave that followed buckled the land. Everyone took a step back—even Veldora.
"That aura... it's choking," Luminous whispered, sweat dripping down her temple.
"It's not just magic," said Guy, his voice tight. "It's his very existence."
"We fight with our hands," Rimuru said. "Just like we trained. No magic. No divine skills."
"He cut off everything supernatural," Rudra growled. "Even my Future Sight... it's silent."
Then Atraval moved.
He was fast.
Blinding.
One second he stood still, the next, he was in front of Benimaru. A single punch to the gut, and Benimaru flew back like a meteor, skidding across the battlefield, carving a trench.
"BENIMARU!" Shion shouted.
She charged, screaming, and launched a spinning axe kick that could crush steel. Atraval raised his forearm and blocked it effortlessly, then backhanded her into a hill.
BOOM!
Veldora exploded forward, fists raised, using a mix of sumo and judo. He clashed with Atraval in a brutal flurry, palm slaps and grabs, each one shaking the ground.
"NOW!" Rimuru shouted.
The Demon Lords surged together.
Milim came from above, flipping mid-air and slamming both feet into Atraval's chest with a karate dive kick.
Velgrynd was already in motion, unleashing a combo of Muay Thai elbows and knees, each strike aimed at Atraval's core.
Velzard moved silently, her hits precise like Kenjutsu, her palm strikes like sword cuts.
Leon and Rudra came at Atraval from the flanks. Leon using a tight form of Krav Maga, while Rudra engaged with jujutsu, attempting to trap Atraval's arms in locks.
Atraval snapped Leon's shoulder and lifted Rudra by the throat.
"Predictable," Atraval growled, throwing Rudra like a ragdoll.
But the barrage continued.
Carrion used wild boxing, hammering Atraval's side.
Frey soared low and spun, driving a spinning heel kick to the base of his skull.
Hinata followed up with a bladed palm strike and a perfect knee to the diaphragm, forcing Atraval back two steps.
Guy was everywhere. His technique was unmatched—a perfect blend of northern Shaolin, speed, and brutal street brawling. He ducked Atraval's swing, elbowed his spine, and landed two body shots.
"He can bleed!" Guy yelled.
Atraval's lip was bleeding.
He smiled.
"Finally," Atraval said. "Now you amuse me."
BOOM!
Atraval slammed both palms into the earth. A black shockwave exploded outward, sending everyone flying.
Diablo teleported mid-air (physically, not magically) and tackled Atraval into a crater. He began unleashing a deadly barrage of open palm strikes, each landing like bullets.
"You will not win," Diablo hissed. "You're not the only one without fear."
Draguel grabbed Atraval from behind. A perfect rear naked choke locked around his neck.
"NOW RIMURU!"
Rimuru rushed in, combining kickboxing, boxing, and karate, his movements lightning-fast, breaking past Atraval's guard.
Then, a brutal hook, an uppercut, and finally, a flying knee.
Atraval roared. A scream that shook the sky.
His body ignited with dark flame.
He flung Draguel off his back and began striking with blinding fury.
One by one, they were knocked down—but not out.
Velgrynd locked his arms.
Milim tackled his legs.
Guy and Rimuru returned for a double flying punch.
BOOM!
Atraval fell back, coughing.
He stood up again, slower now.
Everyone gathered, panting, bruised, bleeding.
"We hit him," Rimuru said. "He bleeds. He breathes. He can fall."
"Then let's make him fall," said Guy. "Together."
They charged one last time....
The battlefield was trembling.
Dust and ash swirled through the sky like a vortex of despair. The ground itself cracked open beneath their feet from the sheer pressure in the air. Atraval—the Bane of All Power—stood tall like a titan from the depths of the void. His eyes were pitch black with glowing red irises, and from his body radiated an aura so heavy, so dark, it bent the space around him. The Nullborns had vanished. Now it was just him… and the last hope of the world—the Demon Lords and the True Dragons.
They stood, bruised and already tired, forming a half-circle formation around Atraval. Muscles tense. Fists clenched. Sweat dripping. No magic. Just will. Just flesh.
And then Atraval smirked.
"Come then," he said, his voice like a thousand screams echoing through a canyon. "Let your broken bones sing the song of your arrogance!"
And then it began.
BOOM!
Atraval moved. Fast. Too fast.
Benimaru barely raised his arms before Atraval's elbow slammed into his chest, launching him across the battlefield like a missile. He rolled through dirt, coughing up blood, struggling to breathe. "What… what the hell was that speed…?"
Diablo darted in next, his stance solid, his footwork precise—he had trained endlessly since Yujiro's warning. He jabbed forward, followed with a spinning roundhouse kick, targeting Atraval's temple.
CLANG!
Atraval didn't flinch. His hand shot up and caught Diablo's leg mid-spin. He twisted.
CRACK!!
Diablo screamed in agony as his leg was snapped like a twig and then thrown into a mountain of debris. Shion rushed to help him but Atraval was already behind her.
SMASH!!
A straight punch connected with her back, driving her into the dirt with explosive force. She screamed, but held on, twisting with a ground-based sweep that barely made Atraval step back.
Guy Crimson jumped in—elegant and precise. He blocked Atraval's next punch with his forearm and countered with a brutal palm strike to the jaw. Atraval grunted but didn't move.
"You hit like a child," Atraval growled—and unleashed a spinning backfist that sent Guy flying through several rock formations.
"GUY!!" Rimuru shouted.
Rimuru slid in low, his stance tight. His hands blurred—jabs, hooks, uppercuts, all flowing like water, all trained from Yujiro's brutal hands-on drills. Atraval blocked them all casually, then retaliated.
BANG!
A hook to Rimuru's ribs. He felt something snap. He gasped and dropped to one knee. "Damn it… he's not even trying…"
Meanwhile, Leon Cromwell, Rudra, and Carrion came from three directions—coordinated. Leon led with a flying knee, Rudra came in with a sweep, and Carrion dove in with a downward hammer fist.
THREE. HITS. LANDED.
But Atraval didn't even flinch. He grabbed Leon mid-air by the throat and slammed him into the ground. Then he twisted, evading Carrion's punch, and drove his knee into Carrion's stomach. Carrion coughed blood violently.
Velgrynd and Velzard went in together, both launching into blinding flurries of Muay Thai and boxing strikes. Velgrynd landed a nasty elbow to Atraval's jaw. Velzard followed with a spinning elbow.
For the first time—Atraval took one step back.
"THAT'S IT!!" Veldora roared, charging with a full-body tackle. "Let's take him together!!"
But Atraval ducked under, hooked Veldora's arm, and used his momentum to slam him hard into the ground—like flipping a train.
Luminous was using footwork and precise strikes, ducking under Atraval's sweeping limbs. She landed a clean jab to the eye, then a knee to the chin. "Die already, monster!!" she screamed, pushing harder.
But Atraval had adapted.
He was getting faster. Stronger. Sharper. With every second, his movement got cleaner. More calculated.
He grabbed Luminous by the hair and flung her across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
Only one stood firm.
Milim.
Her hair was wild. Her stance was calm. Her eyes focused.
She was different. Controlled. Disciplined.
Yujiro's training had molded her into a warrior. Not just strong—but smart. Tactical.
Milim clashed with Atraval, fist against fist, elbow against knee, hip against shoulder. The battlefield erupted in a storm of shockwaves from every strike they exchanged.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Every hit shook the land.
Every block sent cracks through the earth.
Every kick lit the air with heat from raw friction.
"You're not like the others," Atraval hissed, licking blood from his lip. "You've fought something worse than me, haven't you?"
Milim didn't answer.
She spun, ducked, drove a rising uppercut into his ribs that made his eyes widen—and followed it with a spinning back kick that sent Atraval sliding.
"She's pushing him back!" shouted Frey in awe.
"She trained with Yujiro the longest," Draguel grunted, getting up. "She's the only one who can stand toe-to-toe!"
Atraval stood again. "Good," he grinned, "then maybe I'll stop playing."
Suddenly, his body pulsed. Veins bulged. His muscles expanded, his skin blackened, and his eyes started glowing like furnace coals.
A wave of darkness exploded out.
Everyone was blown back.
Atraval growled. "Let's see how long your spirit lasts when your bones are dust."
Milim wiped blood from her mouth, clenched her fists again, and stepped forward. Alone. Behind her, the Demon Lords were trying to get back up.
"You want my spirit?" she said with fire in her voice. "Then you're gonna have to break it, Atraval."
And then… she charged again....