A/N: New chapter, no unnecessary long talking, just pure action.
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No more words were needed. The air itself had grown heavy with the promise of annihilation. King's golden eyes, fixed on the triad of calamities before him, narrowed with focused intent.
Within his chest, the King Engine revved. The deep thud-thud-thud transformed into a rapid, mechanized VUM-VUM-VUM that was less a heartbeat and more the ignition cycle of a planetary engine. The sound radiated outward, a tangible wave of pressure that flattened loose rubble and made the very dust on the ground jump. Heroes miles away, tending to wounds, heard it and froze. It was the sound of a legend shifting from defense to utter, unleashed offense.
Then, he activated it.
Super Sparking King Mode.
A corona of crackling, furious gold erupted from his body, not as a passive aura but as a visible, seething energy that spat bolts of royal lightning into the ground at his feet. His muscles, already honed to Dragon-level perfection, swelled and defined further, not with bulk, but with hyper-dense, coiled power. The tattered remains of his shirt strained and tore, revealing a physique that seemed carved from living auric ore. The King's Armor did not manifest as a separate shell; it was his skin now, a seamless, glowing second layer humming with inviolable density. His King's Eyes blazed, the world not just slowing, but revealing the intricate latticework of force, intention, and weakness in everything around him.
Before anyone could move, King moved. He did not use Royal Acceleration. He simply pushed off.
The ground where he stood vaporized in a silent, circular pit ten meters wide, the bedrock sublimating into plasma from the sheer, unconverted kinetic transfer. He became a screaming lance of sparking gold, crossing the distance to the monsters in a time frame so short it bypassed perception.
The first to react was not Platinum Sperm, but Evil Natural Water. Its formless consciousness, attuned to violent motion, reacted instinctively. A portion of its body telescoped into a high-pressure needle finer than a laser and fired a stream of water so concentrated it could pierce a meter of reinforced steel. Simultaneously, Homeless Emperor, shrieking to cover his earlier fear, gestured wildly. A dozen spheres of divine energy, each hot as a solar flare, materialized in King's path and detonated in a sequenced wall of annihilation.
King did not stop. He didn't even dodge in a conventional sense. His King's Eyes saw the matrix of the attacks—the trajectory of the water needle, the millisecond delay between energy detonations. In the Sparking Mode, his body responded to thought alone. He tilted his axis of movement by a single degree. The water needle passed so close it sheared a flickering strand of golden energy from his corona. He moved through the gaps in the explosive sequence, the shockwaves and heat washing over his armor like a warm, violent breeze, not slowing him for a microsecond.
His target was the center: Platinum Sperm.
The perfected being had observed the initial movement, his analytical mind calculating speeds and vectors. He determined the optimal interception point and arrived there, a silent, platinum phantom. His fist, moving faster than any sound, aimed to meet King's charge with a counter-punch that could shatter a continent's plate.
King's fist met his.
The impact created a void.
For an instant, all noise was sucked from the world. Then, reality rushed back in with a KA-BOOM-WHOOM that was less a noise and more a fundamental tear in the atmosphere. A spherical shockwave, visible as a blur of distorted light and force, exploded outward from their clasped fists. It scoured the landscape for five hundred meters in every direction, instantly pulverizing what little standing rubble remained into uniform fine powder and shearing the tops off distant, broken buildings.
Platinum Sperm's flawless eyes widened a fraction. The force transmitted up his arm was not merely equal to his own; it was denser, layered with a crushing, authoritative weight he had never felt. He was not pushed back, but his flawless stance was compromised for a single, critical instant.
That instant was all King needed. Disengaging the deadlock, he became a whirlwind. This was not the strategic, efficient combat of before. This was the Sparking King Mode in full, devastating expression.
Homeless Emperor rained down fury. "DIE! DIE IN HOLY LIGHT!" Lances of energy, spheres of purification, and wide-area beams crisscrossed the sky, turning the area into a hellish anti-aircraft barrage. Evil Natural Water, mimicking the energy, fired volleys of hyper-pressurized water cutters and wide-area acidic deluges.
King moved through it all like a blur. One moment he was driving a hammer-blow into Platinum Sperm's guard with a KRUNCH—the sound of a mountain being dropped on an anvil, sending concentric tremor rings through the earth. The next, he was leaning back at an impossible angle, a sun-hot energy beam and a water cutter scissoring through the space his chest had occupied. He used the recoil from a blocked platinum jab to flip backwards, evading a pool of expanding water, and landed just in time to catch a follow-up platinum kick on his forearms.
BOOM.
Each block, each dodge, each counter-strike was a cataclysm. Every time King's sparking fist met Platinum Sperm's flawless form, the air shattered. They were redrawing the map of already destroyed Z-City with their footsteps. A glancing blow from King, deflected into the ground, birthed a new ravine. A leap to avoid a homing energy sphere left a crater where he pushed off. Evil Natural Water's attacks, missing him, dissolved entire swaths of bedrock into quicksand or pockmarked the landscape with deep, steaming boreholes.
Homeless Emperor hovered, unleashing torrents of light. "Stand still! Face your judgment!" But King was a sparking ghost, using Platinum Sperm as both an opponent and a living shield. He'd parry a platinum strike into the path of an energy lance, forcing Homeless Emperor to abort. He'd kick a half-ton chunk of rubble into Evil Natural Water's main body, momentarily disrupting its attacks.
The speed was incomprehensible. To the few distant observers with enhanced sight, it was not just a fight but a storm of afterimages—a platinum streak and a gold-sparking comet colliding, separating, and colliding again, all within a permanent, expanding typhoon of divine light and corrosive water. The King Engine's roar was the constant bass note to this symphony of destruction.
King's mind was cold, calculating even amidst the frenzy. Platinum Sperm: Speed nearly matches mine. Durability is extreme. Predictable in his pursuit of optimal combat vectors. Homeless Emperor: Powerful but emotional. Attacks are telegraphed by his rage. Evil Natural Water: Purely reactive. Mimics the most recent threat.
He landed from a jump, and all three attacked at once: a platinum fist from the left, a dense grid of energy balls from above, a wave of replicating, sharpened water from the right. A perfect, inescapable pincer.
King didn't try to escape. He dropped his center of gravity and crossed his arms. His King's Armor, supercharged by the Sparking Mode, flared into a perfect, brilliant sphere around him.
The triple impact was a singular, eye-searing flash and a sound that silenced the world for three full seconds. When it cleared, King stood in a hemispherical pit of glass, steam rising from his form. The armor had held.
Platinum Sperm landed lightly on the pit's edge, his first hint of frustration showing in a slight tightening of his mouth. "King you really are anoying to deal with."
Homeless Emperor panted, energy expenditure starting to show. "Just… just die already!"
Evil Natural Water simply quivered, growing larger as it incorporated the moisture from the vaporized attacks.
King rose from his defensive stance, sparking energy wreathing him like a angry deity. He had tested their coordination, measured their power, and survived their combined assault.
The glass-lined crater still glowed from the heat of the triple impact. King stood at its center, the crackling corona of Super Sparking King Mode spitting golden embers onto the vitrified ground.
Across from him, Platinum Sperm reset his flawless stance, a micro-fracture on his knuckle from the last clash already smoothing away. Homeless Emperor hovered erratically, his breath coming in ragged, furious heaves, divine energy flickering around him like a unstable reactor. Evil Natural Water expanded, absorbing the ambient moisture from the superheated air, its surface shimmering with copied fragments of both psychic and physical energy.
King then took a breath. The King Engine's revving roar hit a new, searing pitch. Then, he activated Royal Acceleration.
Before, his speed was a blur, a flicker. Now, with the Sparking Mode's x5 multiplier applied to an already Dragon-level ability, it became something else entirely. He didn't just move he deleted the space between himself and his enemies.
To the three monsters, the world simply stuttered. One moment, King was in the crater. The next, a line of sparking afterimages connected him to Platinum Sperm, and a universe of force detonated in the platinum being's torso.
It wasn't a single punch. It was a Barrage of Annihilation delivered in the time it takes a neuron to fire. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP! Five world-ending impacts, each stronger than the blow that had felled the Five Grief Tyrant, landed in a perfect, concentrated cluster on Platinum Sperm's sternum. The sound was a single, extended roar of torment from the air itself. Platinum Sperm's eyes went wide with pure, analytical shock. He hadn't seen it. He had calculated the probable trajectory, but the speed had exceeded his predictive model. He was lifted off his feet, not thrown, but carried backwards by the concussive tide, his flawless form screeching as it plowed a trench through the glass and bedrock.
Before the first trench was finished, King was already elsewhere. He appeared in front of Homeless Emperor, who was still screaming a curse that hadn't fully left his lips. King didn't use a technique. He simply drove a palm, sheathed in sparking gold, straight into the fanatic's face.
CRUNCH.
The impact was wet and brutal. Homeless Emperor's head snapped back with a sound of breaking teeth and dislocating bone. His divine aura flickered and died as his concentration shattered. He dropped from the sky like a puppet with cut strings, crashing into a pile of rubble with a broken, gurgling cry.
A nanosecond later, King was above Evil Natural Water. His King's Eyes saw its structure—a cohesive, mindless mass. He pointed a finger down and unleashed a sustained, pencil-thin Kinetic Blast directly into its center, not to vaporize, but to disrupt. PANG-PANG-PANG-PANG! He fired a staccato series, each blast punching a perfectly cylindrical hole clean through the watery entity. The water attempted to flow back, to reform, but the holes persisted for a fraction longer, disrupting its cohesion.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the acceleration ceased. King stood back near the original crater, the afterimages collapsing into him. Less than a second of subjective time had passed. The battlefield had been fundamentally altered.
Platinum Sperm hauled himself out of the hundred-meter trench, a visible, hairline fracture network now spiderwebbing across his chest-plate. For the first time, his voice held a tremor, not of fear, but of recalculating fury. "Your speed… exceeds prior parameters by… 500%. You were holding back."
From the rubble pile, Homeless Emperor clawed his way out. His jaw hung at a sickening angle, his divine radiance replaced by a feverish, pain-riddled glow. He spat a glob of blood and teeth, his words mangled but dripping with hysterical hatred. "You… broke my face… YOU BROKE THE VESSEL OF GOD!" He clutched his head, energy not coalescing into spheres but erupting from him in jagged, uncontrolled lashes. "I'LL FLOOD THIS WORLD IN LIGHT! NO HOLDING BACK! NO MORE!"
Evil Natural Water's holes sealed, but its form became more aggressive, sprouting dozens of needle-like protrusions that hummed with a copied, degraded version of King's own kinetic energy.
"Holding back?" King repeated, his voice a low hum over the Engine's roar. "That was calibration."
The monsters attacked with a simultaneous, all-out fury. Their earlier strategy was gone, replaced by personalized, maximum-output rage.
Platinum Sperm shot forward with adaptive, micro-corrected bursts of speed meant to match King's acceleration. He was learning, his every movement now a counter-algorithm to King's last.
Homeless Emperor, unhinged, didn't aim. He unleashed. He threw his arms wide, and the sky filled with energy. Not dozens, but thousands of spheres—some as large as houses, some as small as marbles, a chaotic galaxy of destruction that blotted out the dusty sky. They fell in a indiscriminate storm, targeting not just King, but the entire area, a mad god's attempt to erase the chessboard entirely.
Evil Natural Water fired. like a wall of hyper-pressurized, kinetic-charged water needles, a shotgun blast the size of a city block, impossible to fully dodge.
King moved. Royal Acceleration wasn't a constant now. He used micro-bursts, creating impossible zig-zags that made a mockery of Platinum Sperm's predictions. He and the platinum monster became a tangled knot of striking afterimages, their clash points erupting in silent vacuums that then boomed with delayed thunder.
But the real threat was the sky and the water-wall. King couldn't dodge everything. A house-sized energy crashed where he'd been a microsecond prior, erupting into a firestorm that melted the landscape. A hundred water needles shredded the space he was moving into.
This was where his King's Eyes and his arsenal merged. As he traded a furious exchange of blows with Platinum Sperm—a sparking fist deflected into a platinum kick, a knee-block answering a jaw strike—his perception split. He tracked the falling energy constellations and the approaching water-wall.
His left hand, busy blocking a platinum elbow, extended a finger. PANG. A Kinetic Blast, no wider than a needle, lanced upward and intersected a falling marble-sized energy. Both canceled in a tiny, silent pop. He didn't stop. PANG-PANG-PANG! While his right arm hammered at Platinum Sperm's guard, his left hand became an anti-air battery. Each shot was a mathematically perfect interception, a golden bullet of pure force meeting a sphere of divine light, neutralizing them before they could hit the ground and add to the cataclysm.
For Homeless Emperor, it was madness. "STOP THAT! STOP CANCELLING THEM!" he screamed, his dislocated jaw flapping. He poured more energy, creating more spheres, faster. But for every ten he made, King's pinpoint Kinetic Blasts picked off two, three, four of the most strategically threatening ones, the ones that would have boxed King in or destroyed the ground under his feet.
The water-wall hit. King couldn't shoot it all. He took a grazing hit across the shoulder. The King's Armor flared, deflecting the kinetic charge and vaporizing the water, but the force shoved him a foot to the side—a fatal opening against a lesser foe. Platinum Sperm seized it, a fist like a meteor heading for King's now-unbalanced head.
King didn't try to recover. He accelerated into the stumble, dropping below the platinum fist. He came up inside Platinum Sperm's guard, his sparking forehead aimed for the chin.
CRACK!
It wasn't a clean hit, but it was enough to snap Platinum Sperm's head back and give King the centimeter of space he needed to blast off again, leaving a sphere of golden energy behind that detonated in the perfect being's face.
The battle was no longer a chaotic brawl. It was a terrifyingly precise dance of annihilation. King was a sparking comet dueling a platinum lightning bolt, while simultaneously playing a lethal game of aerial chess with a mad god and neutralizing a relentless, mindless tidal wave. The King Engine was a constant warp-speed drumroll, the soundtrack to a being operating on a level that redefined the word "S-Class."
Homeless Emperor, frothing with rage and exertion, saw his divine storm being systematically dismantled. He wasn't winning. He was being managed.
And that, for the herald of god, was the ultimate insult.
The triad of calamities was a problem of geometry. Platinum Sperm was the immovable, relentless point, a constant, razor-sharp pressure demanding parry and riposte. Homeless Emperor and Evil Natural Water were the area effects, the chaotic fields of bombardment and replication that shrank the battlefield and drained focus. King's mind, operating at the blinding speed of Super Sparking King Mode, sliced through the sensory overload. The King's Eyes weren't just tracking attacks; they were running a relentless cost-benefit analysis.
Evil Natural Water is a logic loop. Destroying water is futile. It requires containment or environmental negation—a later problem. Homeless Emperor is the amplifier, the chaos engine. His attacks are wild but increase in density, forcing defensive calculations that benefit Platinum Sperm's precision. He is also… fragile.
The realization was as clear as the golden light wreathing him. The fanatic's power was external, loaned, vast but poorly anchored. His body had dislocated from a single, non-lethal blow. He was the keystone of their ranged onslaught. Remove him, and the battlefield simplifies.
A plan crystallized in the space between nanoseconds. Platinum Sperm lunged, a platinum spear aimed at King's heart. Homeless Emperor, frothing, conjured another dense cluster of energy spheres above. Evil Natural Water mimicked the action, forming a canopy of shimmering, lethal droplets.
Instead of meeting the spear or dodging the rain, King committed.
Royal Acceleration burned at its maximum. The sparking gold of his form stretched into a searing line. He moved toward Platinum Sperm, not away. The perfect being adjusted, his fist calibrating to intercept King's trajectory with bone-shattering force.
But at the last possible Planck second, King veered. He didn't dodge around Platinum Sperm; he used the monster's own attacking momentum as a screen. He shot past him so close the shockwave of their near-miss sheared a layer of sparking energy from King's aura and scored a thin line across Platinum Sperm's shoulder. The move was a feint of such audacious simplicity that it relied entirely on speed the platinum being had just barely begun to model.
King's new trajectory was a straight, uncompromising line to Homeless Emperor. The fanatic's wide, bloodshot eyes had just registered King's change of vector. His mangled mouth began to form a word—a curse, a prayer, a command to his orbiting spheres.
He never got it out.
King's sparking hand, moving faster than neural impulse, closed around Homeless Emperor's throat. There was no grace, no technique. It was a predator's strike. The feeling was unmistakable—brittle cartilage, a fragile windpipe, the frantic pulse of a very human carotid artery beneath thin skin. The divine aura around the man snuffed out like a candle in a vacuum, revealing the terrified, mortal husk beneath.
"Wha—?" Homeless Emperor gagged.
King did not pause. He arrested his forward momentum by converting it downward. He slammed Homeless Emperor into the earth not like a hero defeating a monster, but like a blacksmith hammering hot iron.
KR-SHOOOOOM!
The impact was not an explosion, but an act of profound compaction. The ground did not crater; it dimpled, then solidified into a perfect, bowl-shaped depression of fused stone twenty meters wide. The shockwave was a visible ring of dust that shot outwards at supersonic speed. Every one of Homeless Emperor's conjured energy spheres winked out of existence simultaneously, their connection severed.
In the center of the bowl, Homeless Emperor lay embedded, his body a broken puzzle. Bones, reinforced by no monstrous physiology, were pulverized. His divine radiance was utterly gone, leaving only the stink of blood, ozone, and voided bowels. Yet, his eyes, wide with a terror deeper than any monster's, still flickered with a fading, mad light.
King stood over him, one hand still around his throat. He applied pressure, methodical and cold. The goal was not just to kill, but to end—to decisively sever whatever link held this borrowed power. He felt the trachea collapse, the cervical vertebrae beginning to grate.
And then, he saw it.
Homeless Emperor's eyes weren't looking at him anymore. They were looking through him, eyes locked on the moon, into a terrifying, personal abyss. A strangled, wet whisper, more breath than voice, escaped his ruined mouth, carrying a tone of ultimate, childlike betrayal.
"M-My God...f-forgive… give me… another ch-chance… i-i beg of you..."
The plea was not directed at King. It was aimed at the absent, capricious god who had granted him power and now watched it fail. As the words left his lips, his body did not just die. It began to unmake. It disintegrated from the extremities inward, not into dust or gore, but into faint, shimmering motes of light that rose for a moment before evaporating into nothingness. In seconds, there was no corpse. Only a faint, scorched outline on the fused stone and the lingering, psychic echo of absolute, divine abandonment.
[Dragon-Level Threat Neutralized: "Homeless Emperor."]
[BP Awarded: 300,000. Note: Elimination classified as 'Assist.' External Divine Revocation confirmed as contributing factor.]
[Total BP: 395,000.]
Assist? The thought was a spike of cold surprise in King's hyper-focused mind. His own power source… turned on him? Retribution for failure? The implications were vast and unsettling, but they were for later. The points were substantial, but the notification was a footnote to the primary victory: one-third of the equation was solved.
The silence that followed was profound and brief. The cacophony of energy storms had ceased. Only the restless slosh of Evil Natural Water and the low, building hum of pure, metallic fury remained.
King turned.
Platinum Sperm stood at the edge of the impact bowl. He was no longer in a combat stance. He was simply standing, his flawless body humming with a vibration that made the air around him shimmer like a heat haze. The hairline fractures on his chest were gone, fully healed, but his expression was utterly new. The analytical detachment had evaporated. In its place was a pure, distilled, and utterly silent rage. His perfect lips were drawn back from his teeth not in a snarl, but in a rictus of offended, transcendent wrath.
He had been ignored. Used as a momentary screen. While he, the perfected form, the ultimate expression of biological might, was engaged, his opponent had simply… walked past him to crush a weaker, noisier foe. It was the most profound insult his logical consciousness could conceive.
"You…" Platinum Sperm's voice was no longer a hum. It was a blade of vibrating tungsten, sharp enough to cut the soul. "You ignored me."
He didn't shout. The words were flat, final.
Then, he moved.
There was no tell, no shift in weight. One moment he was at the bowl's edge. The next, his fist—now glowing with compressed, white-hot kinetic energy from sheer speed—was filling King's entire world. It wasn't an attack; it was a statement of erasure, faster than anything he had thrown before, fueled by a fury that rewrote his own limits.
King's King's Eyes flared, the precognitive flicker screaming a warning a microsecond too late. He couldn't fully dodge. He couldn't block. All he could do was activate Royal Acceleration at its absolute peak and twist his sparking body in the narrowest possible evasion.
The platinum fist grazed his ribs.
The King's Armor, capable of weathering the combined assault of three Dragons, screamed. A spiderweb of brilliant gold cracks exploded across the point of impact. The force, even glancing, was monstrous. It didn't feel like being hit; it felt like a mountain range had tapped him. The air in his lungs turned to fire. He was catapulted sideways, a golden comet turned into a deflected bullet, crashing through three skeletal remnants of buildings before skidding to a stop in a plume of pulverized concrete.
He rose slowly, the golden cracks on his armor already healing, but the ache in his side was deep and real. The sparking corona around him flickered, then stabilized, burning brighter in response to the damage.
Across the wasteland, Platinum Sperm lowered his fist. Smoke curled from his knuckles. His eyes were pits of white-hot fury.
"Now," he said, the word a promise of annihilation. "You will not look away again. You will see nothing but me, until there is nothing left to see."
The second phase of the duel had begun. The tactician was gone. The calculator was gone. All that remained was the King and the perfected, enraged instrument of his wrath, standing alone in a field cleared of distractions. The King Engine met the humming vibration of Platinum Sperm's fury, and the very ruins of Z-City seemed to hold their breath.
The calculus was complete. Homeless Emperor was unmade by his own betrayed god. The chaotic, divine storm was silenced. Now, the equation had two remaining variables: the perfected physical instrument and the mindless, replicating element. Platinum Sperm's rage was a cold, focused furnace, but rage made even a perfect being predictable. Evil Natural Water was an endless problem, but a problem without strategy, without adaptation beyond mimicry.
King rose from the rubble, the sparking gold of his Super Sparking King Mode burning with unwavering intensity. The cracks in his armor had sealed, but the deep ache from the glancing blow was a constant reminder: against this level of power, even a graze was catastrophic. He couldn't afford to trade blows indefinitely. The Sparking Mode was a torrent of energy, and he could feel the strain singing in his Dragon-level bones. This needed to end, and end decisively.
Platinum Sperm shot forward, not with a battle cry, but with the silent, shrieking whistle of air parting before absolute speed. He was done with analysis, with testing. This was pure elimination.
King didn't try to match his intricate vectors. He planted his feet, grounding himself in the shattered earth. As the platinum blur closed in, King didn't dodge. He rotated, channeling every ounce of the Sparking Mode's multiplicative might—the x5 multiplier focused into a single, pivotal motion. His torso twisted, his right arm pulling back not just with muscle, but with the concentrated inertia of his entire being. He met Platinum Sperm's charge not with a Counter-Decree.
The punch was a golden sun collapsing into a fist.
It connected with a sound that had no analogue in nature—a KR-GONG that was less an impact and more a fundamental correction to reality. The shockwave blew outwards in a flat plane, shearing the tops off every piece of rubble for three hundred meters.
Platinum Sperm's flawless forward momentum reversed utterly. Something inside his torso—His ribs, structural members of his impossible biology—gave way with a sharp, crystalline CRACK. He didn't cry out; a short, punched-out grunt escaped him as he was catapulted backwards, a platinum meteor carving a new, ragged canyon through the battlefield.
The opening was measured in heartbeats. King didn't watch him fly. His King's Eyes were already locked on the shimmering, expanding pool of Evil Natural Water. It was replicating, forming dozens of needle-barrels charged with copied kinetic energy, preparing to saturate the area.
King was upon it before the first barrel could fire. He didn't use a technique meant to vaporize water. He used controlled, brutal, deforming force. A hammer-fist strike from the sky hit its center not to disperse, but to stomp it flat, spreading the cohesive mass thin. As it recoiled, trying to pull itself back into a hemisphere, he was there again, a sparking piston driving a fist into its heart, creating a permanent vortex of chaotic current. He moved around and through it, a golden storm of percussive trauma. Every time it tried to coalesce, to form a weapon or regain symmetry, another blow landed scrambling it, keeping it in a state of pained, turbulent incoherence. It was like beating a sentient puddle into foam.
A shriek of pure, metallic fury announced Platinum Sperm's return. The canyon he'd created erupted, and he emerged, the crack in his torso visibly healing but his expression one of apocalyptic wrath. He descended on King like the judgment of an angry, flawless machine.
King, one fist deep in the churning waters of Evil Natural Water, looked up. He didn't pull back. He used his purchase to pivot, swinging his entire sparking body around in a devastating arc. His other fist, a comet of golden wrath, met Platinum Sperm's descending strike in a perfectly timed haymaker.
SHING-CRUNCH!
This time, the sound was of shearing metal and shattering crystal. The blow connected squarely on the side of Platinum Sperm's head. The perfect being's neck snapped to the side with a violent jerk. The rage in his eyes blinked into stunned, white-static shock. His flight path was obliterated. He spun out of control, crashing down not onto solid ground, but directly into the center of the violently churning, semi-coherent mass of Evil Natural Water.
The elemental monster, sensing immense power and threat, instinctively reacted. It enveloped him, not to consume, but to restrain, its chaotic currents gripping his platinum form, slowing his rise, confusing his senses with its mindless, churning pressure.
For a single, breathless second, they were entangled—the perfect physical being and the primal, formless element, a tableau of monstrous struggle.
King saw it. The alignment. The moment.
He ceased his sparking, erratic movements. He landed softly, twenty meters before the struggling mass. The cacophonous roar of the King Engine, which had been a constant war-drum, suddenly stilled into an ominous, deep silence. It was the silence of a breath held before the thunderclap.
He brought his hands together before his chest, palms facing the entangled horrors. No dramatic flourish. It was a gesture of terrible, final focus.
"Ultimate Hellfire," King intoned, the words a vibration that shook the dust from the ground at his feet. Deep within him, the King Engineunspooled. The vast reservoir of his Level 5 Aura, the belief of millions, the power of a Dragon-slayer, began to flow. It drained from every cell, funneling down his arms, concentrating in the space between his palms. The golden, sparking energy of his mode collapsed inward, compressing into a single, terrifying point of light. It was so bright it cast no shadows, only bleached everything into stark monochrome.
Platinum Sperm, fighting the watery bonds, managed to turn his head. His eyes, for the first time, showed not rage, not calculation, but raw, primal dread. He recognized the energy signature—not its nature, but its scale. It was the same cataclysmic magnitude as Psykos-Orochi's final beam, but controlled, focused, and brimming with an authority that crushed the spirit. "That... energy...!" he rasped, his voice drowned by the gathering whine.
"Burst," King continued, his voice growing deeper, resonating with the power building within him. The point of light between his hands swelled, not in size, but in density. It warped the space around it, sucking in loose debris which vaporized before touching it. The very light in the ruined city began to bend toward him.
Evil Natural Water, sensing the concentrated, apocalyptic energy, thrashed wildly, trying to disperse, to flee, but it was too entangled with Platinum Sperm, who was now desperately trying to break free, to put the elemental between himself and King.
"Wave Motion Cannon!," King declared, and the word was a command to the universe. The contained star between his palms ignited. Golden light, so intense it was white, lanced out in a perfect, cylindrical beam. It was not fire. It was annihilation given form. A wave of pure royal authority that erased the concept of anything in its path.
It hit the entangled mass of Platinum Sperm and Evil Natural Water.
There was no explosion.
There was disintegration.
The beam consumed them. Platinum Sperm had time for one final, silent scream, his flawless form offering no more resistance to this absolute force than paper to a blowtorch. He and the churning mass of Evil Natural Water were turned, atom by atom, into a expanding cloud of incandescent plasma, which was then itself swallowed by the continuing beam. The Hellfire Wave Motion Cannon continued, unabated, a flat, horizon-wide blade of golden destruction that extended into the distance. It carved a perfectly smooth, glass-walled canyon hundreds of meters wide and kilometers long through the remains of Z-City and into the landscape beyond, silencing everything in its path. The sky was split in two by its passage, the clouds vaporized in a perfect, straight channel. For that moment, night turned to an artificial, terrifying golden noon.
And then, King closed his hands. The beam ceased. The unearthly light vanished.
The silence that followed was absolute, deeper than any before. The very air felt thin, scoured clean.
King stood, smoke rising from his arms, his clothes singed. The Super Sparking King Mode flickered and died, the last golden sparks falling from his body like dying embers. The monumental drain of channeling both the Mode and the Cannon hit him like a physical collapse. Every muscle turned to water, every bone felt like glass. His vision swam. He took one stumbling step forward and then his legs gave out. He fell to his knees, then slumped forward onto his hands, breathing in ragged, shuddering gasps that stirred the hot, glassy sand beneath him.
The system notifications chimed in his mind, their tones distant and surreal.
[Dragon-Level Threat Neutralized: "Platinum Sperm." Final Evolution of Black Sperm biomass. BP Awarded: 890,000.]
[Dragon-Level Threat Neutralized: "Evil Natural Water." Pseudo-Calamity Entity. BP Awarded: 760,000.]
[Total BP from Engagement: 1,650,000.]
[Current Total BP: 2,045,000.]
Two million points. A number so vast it was meaningless in his exhausted state. It was a king's ransom earned in a king's battle.
In the ringing silence, other sounds slowly returned. The groan of settling rock. The distant crackle of fire. And then, voices, hushed and full of awe, carried on the scorched wind.
From the distant ridge lines and rubble fields, figures emerged. Silhouettes against the glowing, glass-lined canyon that now dominated the landscape. He saw the bulky shape of Pig God, the small, stunned figure of Child Emperor beside the hulking Puri-Puri Prisoner. Further back, Zombieman lit a cigarette, the flame trembling slightly in his hand. Atomic Samurai leaned on Iaian, both simply staring. Genos, his core faintly glowing, was being supported by Puri-puri Prisioner
They had seen it. The final, dazzling, horrifying decree. The end of three Dragon-level executives at the hands of one man.
They began to make their way down, slowly, picking their way through the newly forged hellscape of glass and vaporized stone, their movements hesitant, as if approaching the epicenter of a divine event.
King saw them coming, their forms blurry through his exhaustion. He had no strength to rise, to speak, to acknowledge. He had spent everything—his energy, his trump cards, his aura—to buy this silence, this victory, this staggering fortune of points.
He had done it.
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A/N: We got over 2,000,000 BP now.
So, i want you guys to give me some suggestions on what abilities or upgrades King should buy in the future. Put them in the Box of Suggestions and maybe ill add it.
[Box of suggestion]