The mont Ery missing arm fully regenerated, flesh and bone reforming seamlessly under his enhanced physique,
"It's my turn now."
Ery did not hesitate. Drawing upon another wisp of Khaos energy, he raised his hand and sent all sixty-four flying swords soaring upward in unison.
Then-
He activated it.
[Battlefield Domain]
A violent surge of spatial power erupted outward from his position, distorting everything within dozens of ters. The air twisted, the ground trembled, and an invisible force pressed down upon the battlefield, warping gravity itself into sothing oppressive and inescapable.
By that mont, the three attackers had already closed the distance to less than ten ters.
And they imdiately felt it.
The sudden transformation of space placed imnse pressure on their bodies, their movents slowing as if they had stepped into a crushing tide. Instinctively, all three unleashed their own battlefield domains in response, attempting to counter the overwhelming force.
But the mont their domains clashed with Ery's-
Their expressions changed.
"Is this man really only a Two Cosmos...?!" the elderly muttered, his face pale slightly as he felt the sheer density and control within the domain.
His movent, once fluid and untouchable, was abruptly hindered, forcing him into a defensive stance.
The situation rapidly worsened for the two brothers. Sensing the imnse danger pressing down on them, both Maldrin and Skylark reacted instinctively, attempting to retreat as they pulled back from the core of the domain, hoping to escape its suffocating influence.
"You won't escape this!" Ery's voice rang out, cold and decisive.
With a sharp motion, he raised his hand toward the sky, his fingers tightening slightly as his will seized control of the blades above. The seventy-two swords that had been rotating high in the air responded instantly, their formation shifting as he activated his technique.
[Willow Rain Form]
The descent began.
As if dragged downward by the overwhelming gravitational force of the domain, all sixty-four blades plunged from above with terrifying speed, their montum far exceeding their natural limits. The air shrieked as they cut through it, their paths splitting in an instant into multiple coordinated trajectories.
Thirty-two blades targeted the elder.
They ca from four directions, converging simultaneously in tightly coordinated formations, each wave designed to overlap and pressure his defenses without pause.
The elder responded imdiately.
His serpents coiled outward while the crystalline insect limbs crossed over his body, forming a layered defense that moved with perfect synchronization. Each blade was deflected with accurate timing, sparks erupting continuously as steel collided against hardened limbs.
Despite the overwhelming assault-
He held.
But that had never been Ery's true objective.
From the very beginning, those thirty-two swords were ant to restrain him. The remaining blades-
Turned toward the brothers.
Under the suppressive force of the Battlefield Domain, their movents were no longer as fluid, their reactions slowed just enough to disrupt their usual rhythm.
For them-
That was fatal.
Maldrin roared as he unleashed a surge of blood mist, the energy rapidly condensing into multiple layers of cocoon-like armor that wrapped tightly around his monstrous body. The swords struck relentlessly, tearing into the outer layers, each impact carving shallow wounds across his form. Though his defenses and physique prevented fatal damage, the accumulation of strikes began to wear him down, blood splattering as his body absorbed blow after blow.
Skylark, however, relied on agility.
His chains lashed outward as he moved, deflecting incoming blades while weaving through the gaps, his movents quick and erratic. For a mont, it seed he might endure the assault.
But his earlier injuries betrayed him.
His reactions slowed.
His control faltered.
One blade slipped through.
He twisted desperately, managing to avoid a fatal strike, but it forced him further back, his breathing growing uneven. Just as he began to gather energy to activate his extre recovery technique, a sudden chill ran down his spine.
Too late.
Another set of blades surged from behind him, their movent concealed within the chaos of the domain.
SPLATT!!
Two fatal strikes landed almost simultaneously.
A third followed imdiately after-
Clean.
Precise.
SPLATTT
The blade passed through his neck without resistance, leaving his severed head suspended in the air, its expression frozen in disbelief.
His corpse collapsed.
"FOURTH BROTHER!!!"
Maldrin's roar shook the battlefield, fury erupting violently as his attention
snapped toward the fallen figure.
And in that single mont of distraction
He failed to notice.
A spatial rift opened silently behind him.
A presence erged.
A voice, calm and cold, whispered close to his ear.
"Worry about yourself."
Within the Battlefield Domain, Ery's control over space had reached another
level. His movent was no longer bound by conventional distance, allowing
him to appear instantly behind his opponent without warning.
He did not rely on the Willow Swords this ti.
He already knew-
They were not enough to pierce Maldrin's monstrous defense.
So instead-
Ery already drew another weapon.
A radiant blade ford in his hand.
Excalibur.
Light erupted from its edge, blinding and absolute, its presence alone distorting
the surrounding space as divine energy surged outward.
Without hesitation-
Ery struck.
The blade carved forward in a single, decisive motion, its light cutting through
the blood mist, through the layers of defense, through flesh and bone alike.
For a brief instant-
Everything froze.
Then-
"ARGHHH-!"
A scream burst from Maldrin as his body split apart.
Ruthlessly
Blood erupted outward in a violent spray, staining the battlefield.
Ery did not stop there.
To ensure neither of the fallen brothers could recover, he directed the
remaining flying swords downward. The blades descended in a relentless storm, slicing through the severed bodies again, reducing them into pieces.
As the storm of blades gradually dispersed, the whirling sword formation finally unraveled, its last remnants fading into the air. In the sudden stillness that followed, the elderly Chira Sovereign stood unmoving, his gaze fixed upon the battlefield where the broken remains of his two disciples lay scattered across the ground.
There was no imdiate reaction.
Only silence.
Ery slowly turned toward him, Excalibur still in his grasp, its luminous light
casting a steady glow across his figure. His posture was firm, unwavering, the blade held not just as a weapon-but as a clear challenge.
For a brief mont, the elder's expression tightened, a faint frown forming as
his killing intent began to gather.
But before he could act-
A scream tore through the air.
It ca from above.
Madam Butcher.
Her shriek echoed across the swamp as Morgana's cosmic flas engulfed her
entirely, the fire burning with terrifying intensity as it consud both flesh and
energy alike. Her charred body fell from the sky, trailing embers as it crashed heavily into the ground below, sending a wave of heat and ash across the
battlefield.
About the sa ti-
Three of the Brotherhood had fallen.
Only the bald Phantom Blade remained, already wounded from Fjolnir's earlier
strike, his breathing uneven as he struggled to recover.
The tide had shifted.
The Chira Sovereign let out a low, chilling scoff.
"Hmph... these foolish disciples of mine..."
His voice carried no grief, only disdain.
Then his gaze sharpened, locking onto Ery with a chilling intensity, the air
around him growing heavier as a deeper killing intent began to surface.
It was clear-
The battle was far from over.
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