The bullets hammered against Prince Mark's shield in rapid succession, striking it more than a dozen times in less than a second. The force drove him back, and he immediately cut his thrusters, darting behind a massive stone outcropping for cover. Nearby, Clara reacted just as quickly, conjuring a fire shield around herself as the remaining bullets slammed into it and disintegrated in bursts of heat and sparks.
Instead of retreating, she shifted her stance. The fire shield collapsed inward, reshaping into a blazing whip that snapped outward with a sharp crack. Insidious leaped back as the flames lashed toward him, the heat licking close enough to scorch the ground at his feet.
"Just die already!" Insidious screamed.
With a furious gesture, he tore the stone Prince Mark was hiding behind straight out of the earth, hoisting it overhead. He twisted, ready to bring it crashing down—
The chest plating of Prince Mark's G.E.A.R. split apart.
Six micro-missiles launched in rapid sequence, streaking forward and detonating against the stone. The explosion shattered it midair, fragments vaporized before they could fall.
Prince Mark surged forward through the smoke and turned his head toward Clara. "Your magic is the only thing that actually threatens him," he said sharply. "I'll keep his attention. Focus on getting one clean hit."
Without waiting for confirmation, he accelerated upward, weaving through the treetops at high speed. From the G.E.A.R.'s right arm, a compact twin-barreled firearm deployed and opened fire, bullets coming from constantly shifting angles as Prince Mark circled. Insidious was forced to halt his advance, red energy flaring as he used his ability to stop the bullets midair, dragging them to a halt no matter where they came from.
Meanwhile, Clara drew in as much mana as she could manage.
Fire coalesced in front of her, forming the frame of a massive crossbow—far larger than any normal weapon, its size pushing the absolute limit of what a single person could lift and aim. She planted her feet, muscles straining as she steadied it, the bowstring of pure flame drawn back and trembling with contained force.
She didn't fire.
*He can definitely feel the mana,* she thought, watching Insidious carefully. *I need to wait for the perfect moment.*
Insidious snarled and thrust both hands forward, his ability surging as he dragged every suspended bullet together into a single, compressed mass. Prince Mark's weapon clicked dry as his ammunition ran out.
"Eat this!" Insidious shouted.
He launched the dense projectile forward.
The mass of fused bullets hit Prince Mark's shield with catastrophic force. It punched straight through, tearing past the barrier and slamming into his chest. The impact hurled him backward, his body crashing through tree after tree before finally disappearing into the forest beyond.
Insidious staggered, dropping to one knee as he panted heavily, the effort clearly draining him. His breathing was ragged, shoulders rising and falling as he tried to recover.
Clara's eyes widened.
*Now!*
She was about to fire—
"Hellscape!" Insidious began, his eyes glowing red as power surged around him.
He barely managed to start the next word.
"Insidious Tra—!"
BOOM.
Something hit him from behind with overwhelming force, smashing him straight into the ground and driving a crater into the earth.
"Did you forget we were here?" Hittag asked.
He stepped forward, seized the imp by one arm, and hurled him through the air toward Clara. She nodded once, already aligned, and released the shot.
The fire crossbow bolt struck Insidious midair.
He didn't even scream.
The flames engulfed him instantly, incinerating his body within moments until nothing remained. The clearing fell silent as the heat dissipated.
Everyone let out a breath they hadn't realized they were holding.
Then Clara's composure shattered.
"Prince Mark!" she called out, panic breaking through her voice. "Are you alright?!"
A moment later, Prince Mark emerged from the treeline, armor scorched and dented but intact. "I'm fine," he said calmly. "My G.E.A.R. is damaged, but I am fine."
He turned to Hittag and Gurion, who stepped out from cover, his expressions downcast.
"You two," Prince Mark said firmly. "Follow us. You're going back to the coliseum."
Gurion hesitated, looking up at him. "But what about Xain?" he asked. "What happened to him? Shouldn't we do something about that?"
Prince Mark stood still for a moment.
Then he shook his head.
"Even if we knew what happened," he said quietly, "there is no way we could get in the middle of their fight."
Just as those words left Prince Mark's mouth, a distant detonation rolled across the land.
The ground shuddered beneath their feet as a violent shockwave swept through the forest, rattling armor, bending branches, and kicking up dust. Everyone turned toward the source in unison. Far off in the distance, a towering column of dirt and smoke climbed into the sky, spreading outward as the echo of the blast thundered on.
The battle was still raging.
At the heart of the devastation, Arkanis and the Demon of Hatred faced one another amid scorched earth and shattered trees.
"How are you so durable?" Arkanis asked evenly.
The Demon of Hatred stood bloodied, chunks of flesh torn away, his body still steaming from having taken what was effectively a miniature nuclear blast head-on. Despite that, he remained upright, breathing hard but unbroken.
"Because that little fire is nothing compared to the burning Hatred I feel for you!" the demon snarled. "That's what makes me tough!"
His blue horn flared to life.
With a violent sweep of his arms, he unleashed a barrage of thin blue slashes that screamed through the air, carving trenches through the ground and cleaving straight through trees. Arkanis vanished just before they reached him, reappearing an instant later atop the splintered remains of a fallen trunk.
"Is that so?" Arkanis replied calmly.
He lifted his staff, preparing to retaliate—
Then he froze.
His eyes unfocused slightly, his posture stilling as if he were listening to something no one else could perceive.
"What's wrong, bastard?!" the Demon of Hatred shouted. "Why did you stop?!"
Arkanis exhaled slowly.
"Another one…" he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Another one of the people I knew for thousands of years just died…"
He lowered his gaze, looking down at the Demon of Hatred below.
"Tell me something," he said, his tone quiet but deliberate. "You said your Hatred is what makes you strong, correct?"
His magenta eyes gleamed faintly.
"I think," he continued, "I am beginning to feel something similar for this world."
He straightened.
"So let us see if it makes me strong as well."
Mana erupted from him.
It poured off his body in overwhelming volume, so dense it became visible—burning, writhing, a fierce purple blaze that distorted the air around him. The pressure slammed outward, rolling across the battlefield and beyond, felt throughout the city itself. Even those with no sensitivity to mana felt an instinctive dread as the surge washed over them.
The calm that had defined the Strongest Demon Lord was gone.