My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill Chapter 486

Divine energy burned into the wounds, creating conflicting power signatures that interfered with regeneration, forcing Khar’razoth to burn extra energy overcoming holy disruption before healing could even begin.

[TEMPORAL ECHO SHADOW SERVANTS NIGHTMARE CONSTRUCTS]

Satou activated three abilities simultaneously, creating multiple versions of himself through different thods:

Four temporal echoes split off—after-images that were actually him at slightly different points in his personal tiline, each one capable of independent action for brief periods.

Six shadow servants manifested—constructs of solid darkness shaped like him, each one possessing a fraction of his power but able to fight autonomously.

Three nightmare constructs ford—beings pulled from Khar’razoth’s own fears through the nightmare realm, taking forms the Ancient God psychologically couldn’t ignore.

Suddenly Khar’razoth faced not one opponent but fourteen.

And all fourteen attacked simultaneously.

The temporal echoes struck from different angles, exploiting the Ancient God’s fractional-second lag in perceiving their displaced tilines.

The shadow servants coordinated perfectly, their hive-mind connection letting them execute combination attacks with zero communication delay.

The nightmare constructs psychological warfare as much as physical combat—one taking the form of dinsional seals, another appearing as consuming void, the third manifesting as eternal starvation.

Khar’razoth’s hundreds of remaining tentacles lashed out in all directions, trying to defend against omni-directional assault—

But even Ancient God speed couldn’t block fourteen coordinated attackers.

Three temporal echoes were destroyed in the first second, their tiline-displaced forms dissipating as reality caught up with the paradox.

Two shadow servants were obliterated in the second second, tentacles crushing them back into component darkness.

One nightmare construct was consud in the third second, Khar’razoth’s Endless Hunger ability literally eating the fear-construct.

But the remaining eight attackers landed devastating strikes.

The real Satou, coordinating the assault through his enhanced perception, found his opening—found the junction where Elric’s human consciousness interfaced with Khar’razoth’s divine essence, the weak point where mortal and god t—

[ASSASSINATION ARTS - GRAND MASTER][TECHNIQUE #298: DIVINE ANATOMY EXPLOITATION]

His claws, carrying all three layers of destruction plus divine disruption, drove into that junction point with surgical precision born from 347 unique killing thods absorbed from rc Assault.

The strike wasn’t aid at flesh. Was aid at the connection—at the taphysical binding holding possession together, at the seam where two incompatible existences had been forcibly joined.

Satou’s claws tore at that seam.

And for the first ti since absorbing Commander Elric and manifesting in the mortal realm, Khar’razoth scread.

Not with Elric’s voice. Not with dinsional harmonics.

With pain.

Pure, primal, genuine agony from a being that hadn’t experienced pain in millennia, that had forgotten what suffering felt like, that existed beyond normal concepts of damage and injury.

The scream operated on frequencies that shattered stone for miles around, that made the air itself vibrate with sympathetic resonance, that caused every being within ten miles to experience phantom pain in their nervous systems.

Satou’s temporal echoes, shadow servants, and nightmare constructs dissipated, their energy exhausted or their forms destroyed.

He stood alone again, facing Khar’razoth across a hundred feet of devastated ground.

This ti it was different.

Radically, fundantally different from the first six hours.

For six hours, Satou had been surviving—dodging, evading, tanking hits, healing, repeating. A defensive cycle where victory ant not dying rather than actually winning.

Now he was dominating.

Khar’razoth, which had been advancing confidently, hunting prey that couldn’t seriously threaten it, was now on the defensive for the first ti.

The Ancient God’s regeneration was disrupted. Its flesh was burned. Its skull was fractured. Its psychological invincibility was shattered by experiencing actual pain.

And Satou, despite blood streaming from every pore, despite his body literally tearing itself apart and rebuilding continuously, despite resources depleting at catastrophic rates...

Was smiling.

A horrifying expression, made grotesque by blood coating his face, by visible damage consuming and reconstructing his features in real-ti, by eyes blazing white-hot with too much power.

But genuine. Because for the first ti in this impossible battle, he had hope.

"IMPRESSIVE," Khar’razoth acknowledged, its voice carrying genuine respect beneath the pain. "YOU HAVE FORCED A GOD TO ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR STRENGTH. YOU HAVE MADE EXPERIENCE PAIN I HAD FORGOTTEN EXISTED."

The Ancient God’s massive form began shifting, tentacles coiling, wings spreading, preparing for renewed assault.

"BUT ACKNOWLEDGNT IS NOT VICTORY. AND YOUR POWER BURNS YOUR BODY AS FUEL. I CAN SEE IT—THE WAY YOUR FORM DEGRADES WITH EACH SECOND. YOU ARE DESTROYING YOURSELF TO FIGHT ."

Satou wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his fla-like eyes—now blazing white—never leaving Khar’razoth’s form.

"So what?" His voice was hoarse from the Dragon’s Roar, from screaming through transformation pain, from pushing vocal cords past breaking points. "I’ll destroy myself a thousand tis over if that’s what it takes to protect them."

He gestured weakly toward the Third Line fortifications visible in the distance, toward the settlent three miles away where everyone he loved waited and watched and hoped.

"THEM?" The Ancient God’s skull tilted despite fractures. "THE SETTLENT BEHIND YOU? THE MORTALS WHO HIDE AND HOPE YOU WILL SAVE THEM?"

"My family," Satou corrected, putting infinite weight into those two words. "My ho. Everything I’ve built. Everyone I love. Everyone who’s trusted to protect them."

"AND YOU WOULD DIE FOR THEM?"

"Without hesitation." No doubt. No qualification. Just absolute certainty.

Khar’razoth was silent for a long mont, its Ancient God consciousness processing concepts it had never encountered—genuine self-sacrifice, love that transcended survival instinct, willingness to embrace oblivion for others’ sake.

Then understanding dawned, and sothing that might have been respect colored its voice:

"I HAVE EXISTED FOR EONS. HAVE CONSUD COUNTLESS CIVILIZATIONS. HAVE FOUGHT BEINGS ACROSS INFINITE TILINES AND ALTERNATE REALITIES."

"AND IN ALL THAT EXISTENCE, ACROSS ALL THOSE BATTLES, I HAVE NEVER—NOT ONCE—ENCOUNTERED A BEING WILLING TO DESTROY THEMSELVES SO COMPLETELY FOR OTHERS’ SAKE."

The Ancient God’s nightmare-wings spread to full extension, each independently-blinking eye tracking Satou with renewed focus.

"YOU HAVE EARNED MY RESPECT, MORTAL CALLED SATOU. FEW BEINGS EVER ACHIEVE THAT. NONE HAVE DONE SO WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY CAUSING PAIN."