Chapter 67 - Chapter 64: End Of Obadiah!

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A streak of red-hot fire trailed behind it as it launched, hurtling straight for Lemu's chest. 

For a moment, it looked as though Lemu was doomed— The missile raced toward him, promising instant obliteration, a fiery death with nothing left behind.

But— "God? Sorry, I don't really know him that well."

『Activating skill: Predator…』

Lemu raised a single hand, preparing to let the missile vanish into his dimensional space, neutralizing it effortlessly.

Then— A sudden shout rang through the battlefield.

"STANE!!"

A blur of red and gold lunged from the side, interposing itself between Lemu and the incoming missile.

Tony Stark. Wearing the Mark III armor. Throwing himself straight into the blast. He couldn't tackle Lemu away. He couldn't push him aside. So he did the only thing he could—he took the hit head-on.

BOOM!

The missile struck the Mark III's chest, erupting into a fiery explosion. For a moment, Lemu saw only shadows— A silhouette of a man, burned into the raging inferno.

Tony Stark's armor was thrown violently backward, propelled by the blast, rocketing past Lemu. But in that crucial instant— A small, pale hand reached out. A simple pull and press—a flawless redirection.

Lemu's precise movements absorbed and redirected Stark's excess momentum, stabilizing his flight path mid-air.

Thanks to this, Tony didn't crash violently into the ground.

Instead, he landed on his feet, stumbling but intact.

A maneuver born from high-level martial arts techniques, knowledge that Great Sage had meticulously gathered from the vast archives of the internet.

A subtle but perfect application of force redirection.

Meanwhile— The fire from the explosion washed over Lemu, scorching the ground, igniting debris, and leaving behind waves of intense heat.

But— Not a single strand of his hair was burned. His clothing was charred, yes— But his body? Completely unharmed. A passive skill. Heat and Cold Resistance. A gift of his unique biology.

Across the battlefield, Obadiah Stane stood frozen, watching this impossible scene unfold through his armor's display.

His face twisted in disbelief, confusion, and—most of all—fear.

"What… what the hell ARE you?!" His voice, meant to be angry, was shaky, betraying his growing terror.

"This… this isn't possible!" But Lemu simply waved a hand toward him, his expression calm, almost casual.

Like he was simply saying goodbye to a friend before heading home.

"Goodbye. Take your questions to God."

"Maybe he'll give you an answer." His voice was soft, but it carried with it an unshakable finality.

And just then— From behind Obadiah, a shadow rose. A towering blue-and-white armored figure. Silent. Ghostly. Like a specter of death itself. The Ghost Armor. Controlled entirely by Great Sage.

And it was already in position— To deliver the final blow.

The Ghost Armor gripped its massive greatsword, the plasma thrusters on its back flaring to life, emitting a burst of brilliant white light.

With a smooth, controlled motion, it spun the greatsword in a full arc, shifting its weight—

Then lunged forward, the blade rising from below in a devastating upward slash, aimed directly at the Iron Monger's leg joint.

Every ounce of force and momentum aligned perfectly—

The raw power of the thrusters

The rotational inertia of the blade

The full torque of the armor's twisting motion

The precise strike of the arm movement

Invisible streams of data flowed through the Ghost Armor's internal systems, calculating and adjusting in real-time, creating a perfect synergy of motion and force transmission.

Under Great Sage's flawless computational control, the mechanics reached near-absolute efficiency, ensuring every unit of energy was channeled into the strike.

And then—

SSSHHHRRRIIIEEK!

A deafening screech of metal rending metal tore through the battlefield.

A burst of blinding sparks erupted as the greatsword cleaved effortlessly into the Iron Monger's massive joint—

Like a searing blade slicing through butter.

The Iron Monger's leg—thick as an industrial steel pillar—was severed in a single swing.

The entire limb broke away, crashing onto the rooftop, sending tremors through the structure.

At the same time—

The greatsword itself cracked, its blade chipped and bent from the sheer brutality of the impact.

Lemu's eyes gleamed, his blood thrumming with excitement.

A strike that could carve through the thickest armor…

A technique that fused the mysticism of Eastern swordsmanship with the precision of modern physics…

A battle art only possible thanks to Great Sage's processing power.

If only the blade had been sturdier—this technique wouldn't just be an ambush attack.

It would have been enough to dismantle the Iron Monger in direct combat.

Lemu clenched his fist. One day, I'll forge an even stronger blade. And when that day comes—I'll find a battlefield worthy of it. A true warzone. Where he could stand on the front lines— And carve through enemies like grass.

With a final, calculated motion, the Ghost Armor raised its right leg— Then slammed a powerful kick into the Iron Monger's back. The force tipped Obadiah off-balance, sending his now crippled armor toppling. 

His eyes filled with sheer terror as he realized— He was falling. The reinforced glass skylight beneath him had already been shattered from the previous missile explosion.

And now— He plunged downward. Directly toward the Large Arc Reactor. His mind raced, his hands clawing desperately at the air— But there was nothing to grab. He descended rapidly, gravity pulling him toward oblivion.

A micro-missile streaked from behind, tracking him as he fell— Then detonated, sealing his fate.

The reactor below erupted, unleashing a towering white energy column, surging straight into the heavens.

For an instant— The world fell silent. Then— A blinding pillar of pure energy pierced through the stormy sky, illuminating the entire city, turning the black clouds white.

The sheer force of the explosion sent ripples through the atmosphere, triggering several cascading bolts of lightning across the sky.

Lemu stood on the rooftop, watching the blinding spectacle unfold, his face bathed in the ethereal glow.

This pillar of light reminded him of something—

The Bifrost of Asgard.

A beacon of divine power, breathtaking in its destructive beauty.

A reminder that the timeline is still moving forward.

In a year or two, the God of Thunder himself would descend upon this world.

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If you want to read 15+ chapters ahead and unpublished fanfics you can check out my patreon or just take a visit.

[P].[A].[T].[R].[E].[O].[N]

http://patreon.com/Kazuma_trash