"Father, let's change locations for this fight. We're scaring these soldiers out of their wits."
In the fantastically transformed sky, Muria unleashed one earth-shattering blow after another. Each attack carried the force to sunder mountains and split the earth, yet his father, Ansoral, received them all effortlessly, dissipating their power before they could spread. Both were consciously restraining the scale of their battle.
"Hmm." Ansoral replied in a deep voice. With that, their battlefield began to shift beyond the Norman Defense Line, heading directly toward territory belonging to the alien invaders.
This sudden shift startled the alien generals lurking nearby. You're fighting, fine, but why are you moving toward our territory? What are you planning?
As the alien generals started to panic, Muria, noticing that the battle's aftermath would no longer affect the Norman Defense Line, relaxed his restraint. He stopped deliberately suppressing his power and ceased nullifying his father's every strike.
As a result, mountains crumbled, the earth sank, and plains cracked apart. Beneath Muria and Ansoral, the land looked like it was undergoing the apocalypse. The terrain morphed constantly under their blows, as if it were dough being kneaded and reshaped at will.
"Such power shouldn't go to waste." Seeing the catastrophic destruction caused by their battle, Muria's expression shifted. Recalling the strategic maps he had memorized, he began steering their fight toward the nearest alien stronghold.
...
"Do we intervene now? These two humans are heading toward our fortress. At this rate, it won't be long before their battle wipes out our entire stronghold."
Amid the remains of a mountain half-destroyed by the battle, an alien general emerged from the rubble, looking toward the rapidly receding sphere of gold and white light in the distance.
"What, the three of us? You're joking, right? If you want to die, go ahead, but don't drag me into it. I'm not done living yet." Another alien general materialized out of thin air, having just used his innate stealth ability.
"Where's Gerard?" The two generals suddenly realized that their third companion had yet to appear.
"What's with Gerard? Don't tell me he got caught in the crossfire from their fight."
"Impossible. Even I took an attack right overhead and didn't move an inch."
"Do you remember where Gerard was hiding?"
"Vaguely. Let's check."
Soon, the two generals unearthed a mutilated corpse from the rubble. They exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing their comrade from the traces of lingering energy and distinct biological features on the remains.
Gerard, their fellow general assigned to observe the martial sovereigns, had died humiliatingly here. Judging by the surrounding damage, he had been hiding in the rubble when a stray attack pierced through, striking him fatally.
"What a joke. Are these humans monsters? A casual strike killed Gerard?"
Overwhelmed by a sense of shared doom, the alien generals studied the attack that had obliterated their companion. It was a strike that had demolished the entire mountain, boring a deep, glowing hole into the earth. Molten rock flickered faintly at the bottom, suggesting the blow had penetrated all the way to the mantle.
"Maybe he was discovered, and they deliberately attacked."
"Discovered? Then why are we fine? Our stealth isn't much better than his. If they spotted Gerard, why not us?"
"Maybe he was just unlucky?"
"..."
The two alien generals silently gathered their comrade's remains before hurriedly pursuing Muria and Ansoral, who were disappearing over the horizon.
They knew approaching these two humans was incredibly dangerous, with death lurking at every turn. Yet as generals, it was their duty.
...
"Muria, your thoughts are too scattered. A fight is a fight. You're overthinking things."
Ansoral had long noticed Muria deliberately steering their battlefield toward a specific location. Though he pointed it out calmly, he made no move to stop it. To him, it didn't matter where the fight took place.
"Father, I enjoy fighting too, but not as much as you. I don't see fighting as everything. While I can find joy in battle, I can also find it elsewhere."
Muria's response was measured, reflecting the difference between himself and most Titans—a distinction his parents were well aware of.
"Hmm." Ansoral grunted softly, offering no further comment. While he hoped Muria would one day share his passion for combat, he respected his son's preferences and choices.
"Ah, here we are. Father, the warm-up is over. Let's begin the real fight."
After a moment of silence, a fortress radiating purple-black light came into view. Muria's eyes lit up, a faint smile forming as countless stars rose from the cloud sea around him. Torrential martial energy surged from these stars, thickening the atmosphere around him with oppressive might.
"Gathered strength, a sovereign's path," Ansoral remarked, observing Muria's conjured aspect. He could tell that the energy flowing through Muria's stars didn't originate from Muria himself.
To Ansoral, the energy was chaotic and impure. Yet the sheer volume was staggering, unified under Muria's sovereign will.
In response, Ansoral unleashed the fruits of his own cultivation. A towering golden war god appeared behind him, exuding a martial aura so intense it seemed to pierce the heavens.
The battlefield shifted yet again. The fortress below them was enveloped in suffocating martial pressure. One by one, the aliens within exploded under the strain, their remains carpeting the fortress in blood and gore.
This was just the beginning. As the father and son clashed, their missed strikes rained down on the fortress, turning it into a fragile sandcastle crushed by relentless waves.
"Stop!"
As the fortress crumbled and aliens fled in despair, a voice filled with fury rang out. Two alien generals charged in on their mounts, attempting to halt the destruction.
But before they could act, two massive hands descended like falling skies, reducing them to dust in midair.
The aliens who had dared to hope for salvation fell into deeper despair. Some gave up entirely, standing still and awaiting death. Others chose a quicker end, turning their weapons on themselves.
...
"Brutal. Just brutal."
The devastating scene played out before four star-armored warriors observing from a distance. One of them clicked his tongue, muttering in awe.
"Still, it's oddly satisfying to watch."
"Why were we even sent here? With power like this, they don't need us standing guard. Feels like we're just the audience here."
"Being an audience isn't bad. When else are we going to witness two martial sovereigns in action? This might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"Record everything. This kind of footage is priceless."
"Are martial artists really that much stronger than us star-armored warriors? I heard they're supposed to be on the same level as titled star-armored warriors, but it feels like they're in a completely different league."
"Are you trying to say something?"
"I'm thinking about switching to martial arts. What do you think?"
"Don't bother. I looked it up. At your age, it's too late. Give up!"
The four star-armored warriors joked among themselves as they trailed the martial sovereigns. They watched as the father-son duo obliterated fortress after fortress, wiping out the aliens within and slaying general after general who dared to stand in their way.
_________________________
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