Thorne staggered backward several steps, his breathing labored. His chest gaped open, revealing a wound that should have healed long ago. Ordinarily, his regeneration was almost instantaneous. Yet this time, his body remained motionless. No signs of healing appeared.
This was no ordinary failure. Something within him was reaching its end.
A few meters away, Kyriel was gradually regaining his strength. The poison that had invaded his body was dissipating, allowing his physical condition to return to something closer to normal.
Larva, meanwhile, kept his eyes fixed on Thorne.
His gaze had settled on the wound he had inflicted upon him. It should have closed long ago, yet its edges remained unchanged.
At first glance, Larva might have believed that his attack had finally achieved its purpose. The reality, however, was far more cruel. It was not so much his blow that had overcome Thorne's regeneration as the imminent expiration of the effects of the stimulant Thorne had consumed.
The power he had gained from the stimulant was about to abandon him.
Thorne staggered again.
Beneath his skin, his veins darkened, pulsing irregularly. A corrupted substance seemed to have replaced his blood, circulating throughout his body as though his entire organism had been contaminated. His hair, once a brilliant white, gradually lost its color until it became a deep black. As for the scarlet markings covering his skin, they faded one after another.
He realized that his time was now running out.
The end of the stimulant's effects meant an abrupt return to his natural limits, but his body, having been pushed too far, might not survive the consequences.
Yet even in the face of this impending end, Thorne never considered fleeing.
His mission remained the only thing that gave his existence meaning. He had received an order from his god, and regardless of the circumstances, he could not accept returning empty-handed. Failure was not an option. Even death seemed preferable to betraying his master's expectations.
As his legs threatened to give way, he slowly straightened his back.
A fraction of a second later, the gaping wound in his chest closed.
Larva frowned slightly. No matter how ridiculous he found such stubbornness, he could not deny his opponent's tenacity. Even on the verge of collapse, the man stubbornly refused to fall.
Kyriel, now free from the effects of the poison, stepped forward.
He still did not understand Thorne's motives or why the latter attached such disproportionate importance to this mission. But the battle had already caused enough damage. The examinees had been dragged into a confrontation that far exceeded their capabilities.
"Enough! We've gone much too far. Even if you've probably injured or killed one of my brothers in your fit of stupidity, I won't kill you in return. Revenge is not an option for me," Kyriel said.
He knew he could never forgive this man for what he had done. The mere thought that his family might have been harmed was enough to awaken an almost unbearable pain within him. Nevertheless, he refused to let that pain make his decisions for him or allow himself to be consumed by revenge.
To Kyriel, revenge could not bring the dead back to life. It could neither erase wounds nor repair the suffering that had already been inflicted. It merely transferred evil from one individual to another, perpetuating an endless chain from which no one would truly emerge victorious.
He was not trying to absolve Thorne of his crimes, nor was he seeking to become his friend. He simply wanted to put an end to this battle before it devoured everything they had left.
For Larva, the very idea of ending the fight was profoundly boring. After everything that had just happened, giving up now seemed almost absurd.
But Kyriel's words had a far more violent effect on Thorne.
Anger surged within him, accompanied by a humiliation he could not bear. Being spared by an opponent he considered inferior was already an insult. Becoming the object of his compassion was even more humiliating.
He, receiving pity from a mere fragment?
Never.
His voice rose, distorted by a rage that seemed directed more at his own helplessness than at Kyriel. He wanted to reaffirm his dignity. But the words died in his throat.
For the sky had just changed.
The clouds suddenly darkened, as though an invisible hand had extinguished the world's light. A streak of brilliance tore across the heavens, ripping through the clouds. The air began to vibrate. An indescribable pressure descended upon the region, turning every breath into a painful struggle.
Then a silhouette descended from the sky. It crashed violently into the ground a few meters behind Thorne.
The earth split beneath the impact, sending an enormous mass of dust and debris into the air. A gaping crater appeared in the middle of the battlefield, and at its center stood a man.
His long white hair billowed in the wind. Above him, lightning multiplied across a sky now plunged into darkness.
Neptune had arrived.
Kyriel and Larva were violently forced against the ground. An invisible force crushed their bodies. Their muscles contracted in vain, unable to respond to their will. Every fiber of their being seemed to scream beneath a pressure that threatened to crush their bones from within. Even breathing became a struggle. Thinking required an extraordinary effort.
Blood burst from their mouths as their consciousness wavered beneath the weight of this overwhelming presence. This was not an attack in the ordinary sense of the term. Neptune had not even touched them, yet their bodies were already suffering the consequences of his mere presence.
Such an abyssal difference in power could not be overcome through courage or willpower.
Yet Thorne, who stood in Neptune's immediate vicinity, appeared completely unaffected by this pressure. While Kyriel and Larva struggled to breathe, he remained standing, as though this man's aura posed no threat to him whatsoever.
Kyriel did not fail to notice this difference. However, he was incapable of dwelling on the observation. Every second spent under this pressure brought his body closer to collapse.
A million kilometers away, another catastrophe had just unfolded.
The immense arena where the majority of the participants had gathered was suddenly plunged into darkness. Lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the monumental structures and countless stands with a sinister glow.
Neptune's colossal pressure had crossed a distance that should have made any direct influence on this scale impossible.
When it reached the arena, the gigantic surveillance screens exploded almost simultaneously, their structures shattering under the impact of this invisible force. On the sand, the apprentices were hurled to the ground. Those who attempted to resist watched their legs buckle beneath their own weight, while others lost consciousness without even understanding what had happened.
Panic spread among the spectators. A considerable portion of the crowd collapsed, unable to withstand the pressure that had just descended upon them. Within moments, the entire arena was plunged into chaos.
Yet some individuals remained perfectly conscious, including the twelve commanders, the Divine Kings, and Larva's master.
They immediately recognized the nature of this manifestation and understood the gravity of the situation.
A being capable of extending such overwhelming pressure across a million kilometers had just appeared, and the consequences of a confrontation at this level extended far beyond the scope of the examination.
One of the officials immediately grasped the urgency of the situation.
"Evacuate this place immediately!" one of the Divine Kings shouted.
The examination was suspended without delay, and an immediate evacuation order was issued. The twelve commanders present were tasked with securing the apprentice swordsmen and all the trainees scattered throughout the designated territory. Every participant had to be located, protected, and brought back safely. No exceptions would be tolerated.
Amid the commotion, Larva's master paid little attention to the fate of the arena. His expression had hardened. He understood what this pressure meant and could no longer afford to wait.
"Larva, hold on. I'm coming," he said as he flew off at full speed.
On the battlefield, Kyriel and Larva were still lying on the ground. Even the slightest movement inflicted unbearable pain upon them.
Nothing they had faced until now had prepared them for Neptune. Suddenly, the latter calmly walked toward Thorne, and as he drew closer, the pressure grew even more intense.
Neptune finally stopped in front of his subordinate, his gaze settling upon him with measured interest.
"Under ordinary circumstances, anyone subjected to the weight of my aura would have perished instantly. Yet the two of you are still managing to remain conscious! Impressive!" he explained.
Neptune now understood why his subordinate had yet to accomplish the objective entrusted to him, and he stared intently at Thorne. The latter, however, did not dare meet his gaze.
He immediately fell to his knees, lowering his head until he was prostrating himself before his lord.
"Oh, my lord!" he exclaimed.
"I acknowledge my failure. My determination faltered, and my own limitations stood in the way of my master's will. I implore you to forgive me," Thorne added.
However, Neptune showed no anger.
"So, you used the seed!" Neptune asked.
He had already noticed the signs of deterioration affecting Thorne's body. The stimulant he had entrusted to him had been consumed, and its effects had now dissipated, along with the exceptional power Thorne had gained from it.
"Yes, my lord!" Thorne replied.
Thorne invoked his helplessness against the two apprentices to justify resorting to such an extreme measure. Yet he did not consider his mission lost just yet. His lord could heal him. He could restore his strength, allow him to punish the two boys, and finally complete the task he had been ordered to carry out. All Neptune had to do was will it.
Neptune ordered him to stand up, declaring that he had done nothing wrong, and an almost childlike joy illuminated Thorne's face.
After fearing his master's disappointment for so long, he had finally obtained his approval. His failure suddenly seemed to lose all significance. All he had to do was stand up to reclaim his place beside the one he served, and he obeyed immediately.
But at the precise moment he returned to an upright position, Neptune placed a hand on him, and Thorne disappeared. His body evaporated, leaving no trace of his presence, as though he had never existed in that place.
Neptune had just erased him.
Despite the pain still crushing his body, Kyriel felt his mind freeze at the sight. Even Larva could not comprehend what he had just witnessed.
"What did you do to him?" Larva managed to articulate, trying to understand what Neptune had done.
The answer came with absolute coldness.
"Death? No, the term is insufficient. He was erased. A being incapable of accomplishing such a simple mission no longer served any purpose in my eyes," Neptune replied.
He went on to explain that, for beings such as himself, killing an inferior being like Thorne did not necessarily mean destroying its body. It could go much further, to the point of completely eliminating everything that constituted its existence. Thorne's body and soul had been erased, and nothing remained of him.
These words awakened a terror in the two apprentices that no previous confrontation had ever managed to provoke.
They now understood the nature of the adversary standing before them. Neptune did not merely possess power superior to their own. He had the means to put an end to their existence without granting them the slightest opportunity to resist.
Without giving them time to think any further, Neptune unleashed a wave of dark energy. Kyriel and Larva were unable to move.
Death was approaching, and this time, no strategy seemed capable of saving them. But just as the dark energy was about to reach them, something happened.
A light suddenly appeared in front of them and repelled the wave of dark energy. At the same moment, luminous swords materialized above Neptune and crashed violently into him one after another, raising an enormous cloud of dust.
It was an attack of unimaginable ferocity.
It was Commander Raizel and Larva's master who had just arrived on the battlefield.