The system prompt chimed in Shuo's mind. He turned, eyes settling on Fenrir—the last threat standing.
"AWOOOO!!"
Fenrir, the God-Slaying Demon Wolf, glared at Shuo, rage and terror warring in its eyes. But it dared not lunge. After witnessing that last, apocalyptic strike, the taste of death was still thick in the air. Fenrir's massive frame began to edge backward, paws scraping the stone.
Shuo arched an eyebrow, his voice laced with mockery.
"What's wrong? Scared already? Sorry, but I'm not letting you off that easy."
He unleashed his power again—black magic coiling around him, a tidal wave of invisible pressure rolling straight for Fenrir.
The wolf shuddered, courage crumbling. It shrank back, heart pounding, but the barrier behind left it nowhere to run. Cornered, Fenrir's eyes went wild. Purple energy gathered at its jaws, building for one desperate, all-or-nothing attack.
Shuo didn't even flinch.
He swept his hand.
BOOM!!!
The ground split open, the palace trembling as if in the grip of an earthquake. Scars hundreds of meters long tore across the blood-red sky.
Fenrir—apex predator, god-killer—was torn apart in a single, casual blow.
Its death wail echoed through the barrier, so chilling that even the bravest felt their skin crawl.
"Th-this… this is insane!"
Odin stared, dumbstruck. He'd thought the unsealed Fenrir was the stuff of nightmares, but compared to Shuo, it was nothing.
Sirzechs and the others could only gape in silence. They'd known Shuo could handle Fenrir, but not like this—so quick, so absolute.
Baraqiel, off to the side, looked positively smug. This was his son-in-law, after all.
The system chimed again:
Ding! Congratulations, host—Fenrir slain. Purple-tier reward granted.
Shuo finally relaxed, glancing at Fenrir's shredded remains before letting the Heaven-Rending Claws fade from his hand. Even with the power of a Transcendent, using the Claws at full strength burned through his reserves—five or six swings, and he'd be running on empty.
But in terms of raw power?
The Heaven-Rending Claws, even unboosted, hit harder in a crowd than his enhanced Excalibur. He wondered: against the Two Heavenly Dragons, famed for their monstrous defense, would the Claws still cut so easily? Fenrir's hide, for all its legend, was nothing in comparison.
Still, he was more than satisfied.
Aside from his Azure Dragon power, his strongest single-target attack was the amped-up Excalibur. For close-quarters or mowing down groups, nothing beat the Claws—at least, unless he started pulling out the truly broken moves.
A collective hiss swept through the barrier as everyone processed what they'd just seen.
"Even Fenrir went down like that? Shuo, you're not just strong—you're a monster!"
Odin's voice was half awe, half horror.
Sirzechs and the rest looked equally rattled. They'd expected a win, not a massacre.
Azazel, meanwhile, was already eyeing Fenrir's corpse, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Next, Odin and the others restored the battered palace to its former glory and dropped the barrier.
But before the dust could settle, Odin and Azazel were already bickering over Fenrir's remains.
And the reason?
Those infamous, god-slaying fangs.
"Oi, you fallen angel brat—Fenrir belongs to the Norse! You trying to steal from us now?"
Odin glared daggers at Azazel, voice full of warning.
Azazel just grinned, utterly shameless.
"Come on, old man. Fenrir attacked us. Shuo took it down. Seems fair we get a souvenir, don't you think?"
Odin's hand twitched toward his spear, murder in his eyes.
But Azazel, ever the negotiator, leaned in and whispered a tempting offer—one involving a trip to the human world, a certain entertainment district, and a "special" spa package.
Odin's resolve crumbled in record time. He waved Azazel off, conceding the corpse with a gruff, "Fine, but you owe me."
Everyone, Shuo included, stared in disbelief.
These two… birds of a feather.
With the wolf's remains claimed, the peace treaty between the Norse and the three Biblical factions was signed at last.
Later, Shuo and Baraqiel made their way to the Gremory estate.
When Akeno caught sight of her father, her face darkened and she turned to leave. Only after Shuo's gentle explanations—and Baraqiel's heartfelt pleas—did she finally agree to talk, her anger slowly thawing.
Shuo also recounted Loki's attack on the Underworld, how he'd disrupted the peace talks and paid the ultimate price.
The girls were shocked for a moment, but quickly shrugged it off.
Attack Shuo? That's just asking to die.
That night, Shuo retreated to his room, flopped onto his bed, and opened his two reward packs.
Ding! Congratulations, host—Purple-tier reward unlocked: [Time-Skip].
He shot upright, staring at the system's message in disbelief.
No way—he'd actually drawn this busted skill!?
[Time-Skip]—the signature move of Hit, the legendary assassin from Dragon Ball.
When Hit first revealed [Time-Skip], it was nearly impossible to counter. But it wasn't true time travel—only gods could pull that off. Instead, [Time-Skip] worked by manipulating ki, creating a perfect copy of oneself while hiding the real body elsewhere.
It was like slipping into a parallel timeline for a split second, making you untouchable. Anyone who relied on sensing ki would be utterly lost.
Breaking [Time-Skip] was nearly impossible, but there were two theoretical methods:
First, if someone could read Shuo's movements and predict his attacks, they might counter it.
Second, if an enemy's power utterly dwarfed his own, they could brute-force their way through the parallel space.
But with Shuo's current strength? The odds of meeting such a foe were slim to none.
With a grin, he claimed and learned [Time-Skip] on the spot.
🔥 Want to read the next 50+ chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]