On the battlefield, Reinhardt gazed at the monsters with a calm expression, his sword held firmly in his right hand.
Though he appeared distant and diminutive compared to them, his overwhelming presence—forged through a bloody history with these creatures and his status as a universal adversary—ensured that no one dared to underestimate him. After all, this was Reinhardt de Molière, currently the most powerful human in existence.
The Lion King's eyes, however, were sharp and burning with hatred and rage; a fiery, golden aura radiated from his body, carrying an immense, palpable intent to kill.
"Reinhardt de Molière—so, we meet again at last! My defeat at your hands was a humiliation, and I shall exact a terrible vengeance! Mark my words well!"
The Lion King's voice was thick with threats and promises of retribution as he slammed his foot violently against the ground.
Reinhardt's expression remained calm and unperturbed; without a word, he surged forward.
The Lion King was caught off guard for a few fleeting seconds—time enough for Reinhardt to land a devastating blow to his chest.
Shock washed over the Lion King's features as blood gushed from the wound and spilled from his mouth.
Gritting his teeth, he glared at Reinhardt, who had already retreated and returned to his original position, still without uttering a single word. The Lion Ruler spoke with fury, glaring at Reinhardt—who remained entirely unconcerned with what was unfolding around him:
"Reinhardt, you cowardly scoundrel! Launching a surprise attack! You're nothing but a walking pile of filth, yet you dare to claim nobility!"
Hearing the Lion Ruler's contemptuous words, Reinhardt pointed his sword toward him, his expression remaining utterly indifferent.
"We are at war, not in some staged exhibition match. I strike whenever I please—and the same applies to you. So, enough with the whining—fight!"
"Mark my words: this time, I'll sever your head with this blade! No more letting you scurry away like a cowardly cat, as I did in the past!"
The Lion Ruler's pent-up rage was on the verge of exploding. For him, enduring centuries of humiliation and disgrace at the hands of a human was simply intolerable.
But being called a "cowardly cat"—in front of his own subordinates, other Beast Rulers and their followers, and all the humans and beasts under Yuta's command—was the final straw that extinguished the last flicker of his patience.
In a fraction of a second, he vanished from his spot, reappearing directly before Reinhardt. His claw loomed close to the human's body, his face twisted into an arrogant, hate-filled sneer.
Yet, Reinhardt's expression did not shift in the slightest. He was the strongest human—a being who, in his current state, had attained a level of power bordering on "Trans-Omnipotent."
To him, battling an opponent like the Lion Ruler was a trivial, inconsequential affair—especially given that his adversary remained stuck at the "Level 3 INF-0" tier. Even so, Reinhardt did not evade the attack; instead, he was sent flying several meters, crashing into a massive boulder—as large as a house—that had once been part of the ground itself.
The Lion Ruler spoke with a sneer, his gaze fixed on the spot where Reinhardt had collided:
"Hahahaha! It seems you've grown quite weak, Reinhardt de Moliar, after all these years of rest!"
But his laughter—and the amused, mocking, and contemptuous smile he wore—did not last long. Reinhardt emerged from the cloud of dust, completely unscathed.
The Lion Ruler's expression shifted to one of shock, and a cold sweat broke out across his back. In disbelief, he wondered to himself:
"How?! I struck him with my most powerful attack—how is he still alive?!"
Still, he did not give up; it had been merely a physical strike bolstered by an aura, and besides, it would be absurd for anyone to die from a single blow.
That was what he tried to tell himself—but Reinhardt's counterattack, which carved an 'X' across his chest, jolted him out of his reverie in the most brutal fashion.
Blood gushed from his chest and mouth, the result of a sudden strike aimed at his heart and throat. Yet, he said nothing; it was his own fault—the error of letting his mind wander in the midst of a life-or-death battle.
Such a foolish act could only come from someone desperate for death. Moreover, it was unthinkable for anyone to leave their defenses wide open before an opponent. The same applied to Reinhardt, who would use any means necessary to win—even the most underhanded ones. As for the Lion Ruler leaving his defenses exposed, that was something Reinhardt simply could not overlook.
Reinhardt strode toward the Lion Ruler with steady steps, his expression devoid of any seriousness.
"It seems that associating lions with a sin—the sin of pride—was no mistake. You are vain and arrogant!"
Reinhardt's tone dripped with mockery. He wiped his hand, now stained with the Lion Ruler's blood, and offered a derisive, contemptuous smile.
The Lion Ruler spoke with palpable disdain, scoffing at Reinhardt's earlier remark:
"A member of the De Moliar family, lecturing someone else about being vain and arrogant? How utterly ridiculous!"
"Aren't you De Moliars the most vain and arrogant people of all? Especially you—you actually think you're the center of the universe!"
Reinhardt stared at the Lion Ruler for a few seconds before delivering a sharp slap to his face. The force sent the Lion Ruler flying several meters, shattering the ground over a wide area.
"Pathetic! A wretch like you never learns!"
Reinhardt continued his steady advance toward the Lion Ruler. He intended to torment him—a way to vent the frustration he felt after his defeat at the hands of Amita Valeria and Iomi Decimus Hadrian the previous night.
The Lion Ruler was the perfect outlet to quell his rage without raising any suspicion; as long-standing enemies, such treatment would seem entirely logical. The lopsided battle was enough to strike terror into the hearts of all the beast rulers and their followers, while simultaneously igniting joy and excitement among those in the city of Yuspeakers—as well as the combatants currently engaged in fighting the beasts.
Reinhart, however, paid none of this any mind; his focus remained entirely on the Lion Ruler, who lay fallen upon the ground.
"Did he die that easily? No—something's wrong!"
His doubts, however, were short-lived; a thunderous roar erupted from the Lion Ruler's position, leaving Reinhart stunned.
The Lion Ruler's power had surged to a shocking degree—a development that led him to realize an unseen hand, far more potent than his own, had intervened.
The Lion Ruler brushed the dust from his body, revealing a physique entirely free of injury, while an aura—characteristic of an ORR-05 rank beast—emanated from him.
Those within the city of Yuspeakers who had not yet reached the "Boundless" rank felt nothing; however, those who had attained or surpassed that level were struck with shock as they gazed at the Lion Ruler.
Yet, their shock was short-lived; they grasped that he could not sustain such power for long—his body was simply too weak to contain it, and he was ill-prepared to bear the strain.
"Could Lyota be behind this? After all, he is a fourth-tier Wing Master. Enhancing the strength of a being like the Lion Ruler would be as effortless for him as drinking water."
Reinhart mused to himself, his eyes fixed upon the Lion Ruler.
Elsewhere, the Lion Ruler wore an arrogant smirk, assessing the power he had acquired. He then muttered, his voice barely audible:
"Thank you, Master, for bestowing this terrifying strength upon me. I shall offer up Reinhart's corpse as a sacrifice to prove my loyalty to you."
An overwhelming aura erupted from the Lion Ruler as he lunged toward Reinhart, that same haughty smirk still plastered across his face. Yet, Reinhardt's expression did not change; if anything, it grew even sharper. He spoke, his tone laced with a mix of defiance and determination:
"The real fight is about to begin!"
With that, he surged forward at his maximum speed, his sword aimed directly at the Ruler of the Lions.
Elsewhere, several kilometers away, Duke Yukimaros MacTire, Duke Aster Guilford, Duke Belgord Kethali, and the Sword Saint Azars Nozaki were traveling toward the city of Yusbikers on horseback.
The atmosphere was thick with tension. Duke Yukimaros MacTire's relationship with the Sword Saint, Azars Nozaki, was far from amicable—much like his strained rapport with the Magic Emperor, Aster Guilford, whom he was currently investigating for alleged collusion with the Scorpion organization.
Meanwhile, five of the Beast Rulers were lying in wait near the city. Their children were also present—with the exception of Azars Nozaki, who remained a bachelor and staunchly refused to marry, and Aster, who had adopted Jiya—or so he claimed, at any rate.
Seeking to break the heavy tension, Belgord spoke up:
"Well, it seems war is upon us. Who shall fight whom?"
Yukimaros and Azars Nozaki both turned their gazes toward him, and Yukimaros spoke first:
"I shall take on the Ruler of the Wolves—for the wolf is the emblem of the MacTire family." Azars Nawazaki spoke, drawing the tip of his sword from its scabbard:
"I shall take on the Serpent Ruler; I have many old scores to settle with her. The Goblin Ruler will be left to the students. That leaves the Orc Ruler—you two will work together to face him, won't you?"
The two men narrowed their eyes as they listened to the Sword Saint, Azars Nawazaki, but they remained silent. After all, fighting as a pair would be the safer option.
Furthermore, they harbored a deep-seated animosity toward the Orcs, who had destroyed a magical laboratory over six hundred years ago—an operation for which the Orc Ruler himself had been responsible.
Slaying him would bring them a sense of relief; they would finally be able to exact revenge upon the one who had ruined the fruits of their long, arduous nights of study and patient labor.
Speaking in unison, their voices laced with a mix of arrogance and murderous intent, they declared:
"We shall kill him!"
Azars Nawazaki nodded in approval and encouragement. They continued on their way in silence; there was no trust between them—least of all toward Yukimarus, who would not hesitate to sever their heads from their shoulders the moment he uncovered a shred of evidence against them.
Duke Aster Guilford and Belgurd Ketali were both at level 2 0-FI, while Duke Yukimarus MacTire and the Sword Saint Azars Nawazaki stood at level 3 INF-0. Duke Reinhardt de Molière, who held the rank of ORR-05, had already reached his second "wing" (stage of power).
Consequently, Yukimarus and Azars Nozaki were the two strongest individuals after Reinhardt. However, given the training of the Maktyre family—which begins at age six and continues until age twelve, focusing exclusively on the art of assassination—combined with his noble lineage, Yukimarus stood as the strongest person immediately following Reinhardt.
"We have arrived at the battlefield."
Azars Nozaki broke the silence, his gaze fixed on the clash between Reinhardt and the Lion Sovereign.
Reinhardt was parrying the Lion Sovereign's attacks with moderate difficulty; the injuries he had sustained in a previous battle hindered his ability to exert his full power.
Both were sent flying several meters back, crimson blood gushing profusely from their bodies.
This frustrated Reinhardt. The Lion Sovereign had not even shifted into his human form, yet he was still suppressing Reinhardt and controlling the flow of the battle.
Reinhardt drove his sword into the ground to steady himself, while a golden aura emanated from him, completely healing his wounds. The same occurred for the Lion Sovereign; the gap in their strength was not significant enough to prevent them from recovering from their injuries.
"Art of the Ten Kings, Fourth Form: The Origin-Maker."
Reinhardt murmured, channeling his power into his blade. A surge of energy erupted in a fraction of a second, and Reinhardt struck at the Lion Ruler, leaving him no time to even think.
BOOM! BOOM!
A triumphant smile flickered across Reinhardt's face for a few seconds, only to be replaced by a cold, detached expression.
"Still alive, are we?! He shifted into his own dimension at the very last second. How incredibly annoying! It seems he actually has a brain to think with, after all."
A rift in reality tore open where the Lion Ruler had been standing, and he stepped out, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face—he had narrowly escaped a fatal blow.
Freezing time, he darted toward Reinhardt at the speed of light and unleashed a devastating attack, sending Reinhardt flying into the distance.
Yet, he sensed that something was wrong—but by the time he realized what it was, it was already too late to retreat Reinhart had easily evaded his attack; everything he had perceived was nothing more than an illusion.
To his utter shock, Reinhart's sword was now plunged into his heart—a faint, subtle smile playing upon Reinhart's lips.
"I told you—you Lions are far too arrogant. Had I truly intended to kill you with that strike, you would already be dead. After all, it is a simple matter for me to block your access to your own personal dimension."
The Lion Sovereign gritted his teeth in fury, yet his expression shifted back to one of shock as he caught sight of a young man standing several meters away, his features obscured.
"Do you wish to survive, Lion Sovereign—and to exact your revenge upon Duke Reinhart de Molière?"
The stranger's voice was seductive, compelling agreement, while an overwhelming aura radiated from him.
The Lion Sovereign glanced toward Reinhart—who remained frozen in place like a broken puppet—for several long seconds, before speaking in a tone consumed by a thirst for vengeance:
"Yes—I want to kill Reinhart de Molière, no matter the price! I cannot hold on much longer; my body will perish in a few hours, even if he does not finish me off himself."
A sinister smile spread across the stranger's face as he listened to the Lion Sovereign's words.
"I shall grant you the power to continue this battle—but in exchange, you must surrender your soul to me, whether upon the completion of your revenge or at the moment of your death." Shock was etched across the Lion Ruler's face, but memories of the humiliating losses and defeats he had suffered at the hands of Reinhard caused him to grit his teeth, his face flushing deep red with rage.
"I agree! Just grant me the power once more!"
"Hahahaha! I admire your persistence—but mark my words well: there is no turning back!"
The stranger snapped his fingers, and time rewound several minutes—back to the moment before the Lion Ruler had emerged from his own personal dimension.
"I've been given another chance! Hahahaha! This time, I shall win!"
The Lion Ruler muttered to himself, his gaze fixed ahead.
Then, he recalled the stranger's words:
"There is no turning back."
He unleashed his full power, shifting into his human form—revealing fiery golden hair and crimson eyes. Clad in garments fashioned from lion fur, he possessed an incredibly robust physique, and in his right hand, he gripped a golden sword.
"The real fight is about to begin, isn't it, Reinhard?"
Reinhard remained silent, stunned; he had never anticipated such a turn of events, having expected the Lion Ruler to launch a direct assault rather than assume this human guise.
This only deepened his suspicions that someone else was orchestrating the battle from behind the scenes.
The same was true for Yuta, who watched the unfolding conflict with a sharp, piercing gaze. The sudden surge in the Lion Ruler's power had been no part of his plan.
His scheme was slipping from his grasp, leaving him utterly taken aback. There were several individuals capable of such a feat—figures like the venerable "Last Board" Bing Tao-Shin, the venerable "Star-Hunter" Zendaya, the venerable "Demonic Ice" Leghard, or perhaps another venerable being who might have had a hand in this.
Yet, he remained silent. Ultimately, the situation had slipped from his control; the war was no longer unfolding as he had intended. Another party had begun moving the pieces on the chessboard, though their identity remained a mystery to him.
He chose to observe Reinhardt's battle, while awaiting the conflicts that would soon involve the other duchies and the Sword Saint, Azars Nawazaki.
As for the absence of the Sword Emperor, Yuchira Esknaura—he paid it no mind. Whether present or absent, it would have no bearing on the outcome; for even as a "Master of Rulers," Yuchira would be easily dispatched by the Beast Rulers.
Elsewhere, the blades of Reinhardt and the Lion Ruler, Ashurin, clashed at breakneck speeds, their resounding impacts echoing for hundreds of kilometers.
With every step taken by either combatant, the earth shattered, collapsing into massive craters.
Ashurin unleashed a formidable assault toward Reinhardt:
"Art of the Sun Masters: Divine Purity!"
Reinhardt responded in kind, employing his own technique:
"Art of the Ten Kings, Eighth Form: Master of Primal Ends!"
Both attacks struck simultaneously, triggering a violent explosion—one that had to be suppressed by the combined efforts of Yukimarus, Azars Nawazaki, and the Beast Rulers, lest it cost them their lives. In the middle of a massive crater the size of a football field, Reinhardt and Ashurin stood firm. Though neither had yet revealed their true hand, both had sustained serious injuries.
Nevertheless, neither showed any intention of backing down; both were determined to continue the fight until one of them lay dead.
This outcome had been sealed from the very start, and both remained committed to it.
"I will kill you, Reinhardt de Moliar! Your head shall be an offering to my master—even if it costs me my own soul! I will kill you, Reinhardt de Moliar!"
Ashurin spat these words, his voice thick with rage and hatred as he glared at Reinhardt.
Reinhardt simply watched him in silence, a faint smile playing on his lips, before sitting down on the ground—a gesture that left Ashurin bewildered.
"How about we take a five-minute break? We can tend to our wounds, then resume the fight at full strength. Doesn't that sound fair? I swear by the heavens and the seven earths that I'll pull no tricks."
Anger flickered across Ashurin's features, yet he offered no objection. It was an absurd proposal, to be sure, but a moment's rest was not unwelcome.
He sat back against a rock, placed his sword at his side, and closed his eyes, attempting to recover his depleted energy.
Reinhardt did the same, beginning to restore his own strength.