The mont Yelena launched her attack, the sky itself seed to shift in awe.
From a distance, it was like witnessing a teor storm erupt from the heavens.
Thousands—no, tens of thousands—of radiant holy swords, each one glinting with celestial energy, tore through the sky like a torrent of subatomic missiles.
Their paths burned brilliant trails of light behind them, forming arcs and spirals that glimred like a festival of stars.
From the ground below, hikers and villagers stopped in their tracks, staring upward in slack-jawed awe, so of them even filming the spectacle with shaky hands.
To them, it looked like a breathtaking firework show—ethereal, divine, sothing out of legend.
But only Yelena knew the truth.
This wasn’t a light show.
This was annihilation.
Her lips curled into a proud smirk as she watched the golden barrage streak toward its target.
’Let’s leave S or SS-class aside.’ She thought coldly. ’This...this could erase a town.’
The sheer destructive potential of her assault was enough to turn stone to vapor, to rip through enchantnts, shields, even magical landscapes.
Nothing within standard classification would survive it. And she had fine-tuned the spell down to the molecular level, not a single sword would so much as scratch Mika or Charlotte.
The instant they touched Mika’s aura, their force would dissipate. She wasn’t trying to kill them. She was just trying to humble them.
And she knew this would work.
She folded her arms, proud and smug, watching the storm descend.
But just as the swords were about to make contact, the shocking happened.
Mika and Charlotte who were floating there just...vanished.
Both of them.
Gone.
Not a puff of smoke, not a sound.
Just...empty sky where they had been.
Yelena’s eyes widened in disbelief. The holy swords, confused as if they had minds of their own, hovered mid-air before turning and looking for them.
"What the—?" She muttered, spinning around.
And then, suddenly, several miles to the left, Mika reappeared mid-air.
Not only that, he was still painting Charlotte’s nails.
As if nothing had happened.
Charlotte, nestled in her floating massage chair, had a green face mask on and cucumber slices over her eyes. She was even humming a tune.
Yelena’s jaw dropped. "No way..."
But she didn’t hesitate. Gritting her teeth, she snarled.
"Fine. Let’s try again."
She waved her hand, and another storm of swords spiraled from the sky. They were faster now, smarter, surrounding Mika from every angle.
And yet, just as they were about to touch—
Gone again.
He blinked out of existence, and reappeared near the base of a floating hill, gently blowing on Charlotte’s nails to help them dry. The girl barely stirred, completely oblivious to the chaos around her.
Yelena growled.
"GO!" She bellowed, flinging her arm forward again.
The swords lunged after him.
Again. And again.
Each ti they closed in, Mika would vanish.
Not teleport in the traditional sense.
Not phase-shift.
It was sothing else entirely.
He was skipping between instants, slipping through the folds of space with Charlotte’s spa chair in tow like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The swords chased him relentlessly—slicing through air, burning through clouds, leaving wakes of magical turbulence behind—but no matter what, Mika was always a step ahead.
No less than a step. He was never in one place long enough to be struck.
"CO ON!!" Yelena scread, her wings flaring out with divine light. "STOP RUNNING, MIKA! FACE LIKE A WARRIOR!"
Far across the sky, Mika finally turned toward her, still crouched at Charlotte’s feet and he gave her a thumbs up like he was telling her to do her best.
Yelena’s eye twitched.
"...You little—"
She raised both arms and shouted a command that shook the heavens.
"Scatter and converge! Seek him out from the shadows! FORMATION VARIANT OGA—SPHERICAL DESCENT!!"
A roar echoed across the skies as hundreds of thousands of new portals burst open—so many that the sky was now a mosaic of golden rings.
Each one released new blades.
From fiery crimson sabers to translucent ti blades, to jagged cursed holy relics with runes that could reverse entropy itself—every weapon in her entire angelic arsenal surged forth.
The light they emitted was so vast, so bright, that distant cities could see it like a cot trail across the sky.
Children pointed.
Adults stood still.
So even bowed, thinking they were witnessing the gods descend.
But in the center of it all, Mika simply yawned and leaned back a little, tapping Charlotte’s knee.
"All done with the left hand." He said gently. "You want sparkles or no sparkles on the right?"
Charlotte gave a sleepy hum. "Mmm...surprise ..."
Yelena was fuming. She had never been so disrespected in all her life.
"MORE!!" She shrieked, launching another wave of divine power, raining swords upon swords, flooding the entire sky in radiant destruction.
And just then—one sword connected.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A chain reaction of explosions thundered through the clouds, and Yelena gasped.
"I hit him!" She yelled triumphantly. "I ACTUALLY—!"
But then her eyes adjusted.
Mika was still sitting there.
Sa smile.
Sa brush in hand.
Sa Charlotte, reclining with her eyes closed.
"...What?" Yelena whispered.
Around him shimred a translucent do—barely visible, but unmistakably there.
The mont her blades had touched it, they had lost their power.
Fla blades fizzled.
Ti sabers shattered.
Swords ant to rot the soul clanged harmlessly off the barrier.
Yet Mika had never stopped. He was still filing Charlotte’s nails gently, humming a little tune.
Inside that barrier, everything outside may as well have been nothing.
And the worst part?
He wasn’t even looking at her.
Like she wasn’t even worth his attention.
Yelena stood frozen, the golden remnants of her attack slowly fading away across the skies.
This wasn’t just a defeat.
It was humiliation.
But even after everything—after all the spells, all the explosions, all the humiliation—Yelena still refused to admit defeat.
Her brows were furrowed in pure fury, her fists trembling as her wings made out of swords flared out like a phoenix ready to scorch the skies.
Her voice rang through the air like a war trumpet.
"I’m not done yet!"
This ti, she wasn’t holding back.
With a furious wave of her arm, the sky twisted violently as over a hundred thousand golden portals—each bigger than the last wave—tore open behind her in a sprawling arc.
From the ground, people watching through telescopes and binoculars scread in awe and panic.
To their eyes, it looked as if a new sun was forming above the horizon—a second celestial body, bright and terrifying, devouring the clouds with its sheer radiance.
The light was blinding. Even the faraway cities saw it as a blinding glare in the daylight sky.
Birds scattered in chaos. Animals whimpered in fear. Phones everywhere began to record.
But they didn’t know what they were witnessing.
Because behind that blinding light...millions of swords were erging.
Each one humming with intent. Glowing with ancient power.
So were as long, others short and razor-sharp, all of them swarming in formation like an army of angelic drones preparing for the apocalypse.
Yelena’s face was like a war general—stoic, grim, resolute.
She simply extended her arm.
"Fall."
And they did.
Millions upon millions of blades surged forward, each locked onto Mika and Charlotte.
It was like staring into the barrel of the largest celestial machine gun ever forged. Blades rained down in sheets, from every angle, every direction, thousands at a ti.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The sound wasn’t just tallic; it was elental.
Explosions roared like thunderclaps.
Shockwaves blew away clouds for miles.
To the watchers below, it seed like a hurricane of lightning and golden fire was consuming a single point in the sky.
It looked like a God was being punished.
But the truth was...
The swords never did a thing.
They struck sothing.
There were impacts.
There were detonations.
Waves of force tore through the air, setting the skies ablaze with flickers of divine light—but at the center of it all, Mika remained exactly the sa.
Untouched.
Unmoving.
Unbothered.
Charlotte was now casually stretching out her feet, lifting a cucumber slice from one eye and giving her mother a slow, smug little smile...before laying the slice back down and leaning deeper into the reclining spa chair.
That smug little gesture—that one—was what finally made Yelena’s eye twitch.
"HOW DARE YOU!!!"
She scread.
With a thunderous roar, Yelena unleashed sothing new.
The portals behind her shifted. No longer were they the size of doors or gateways—they were colossal, 50 ters wide, like gaping dinsional wormholes carved into the fabric of the sky.
From within them...
Massive swords erged.
Not just swords. Battleships. Fortresses. Titanic, divine-forged constructs in the shape of swords, each the size of a skyscraper.
So were jagged like cleavers, others elegant like giant rapiers. Runes carved across their hulls glowed with volcanic light. So spun with turbine-like blades, others had glowing wings.
The air crackled with their arrival and they floated forward like titanic predators.
With a cry, Yelena sent them charging.
Dozens of them surged in from every side—like skyscrapers flying at terminal velocity toward Mika and Charlotte, their sheer mass enough to crush mountains.
But then—just before contact—
They passed through him.
No clash. No sound. No reaction.
It was as if Mika didn’t exist in the material realm at all.
The giant swords collided with one another instead, exploding into one another in cascading bursts of holy energy, detonating so violently that entire currents of wind were torn open through the sky.
Implosions of pure light swallowed up the edges of the battlefield.
Yet still...not a scratch.
Still floating. Still painting.
Mika was now carefully blowing on Charlotte’s right toes, asking. "Silver glitter or gold?"
Charlotte, still relaxing in the chair with a mask on, said. "Mmm...silver. But not too much."
Yelena stood frozen mid-air. Her arms trembled. Her mouth clenched. Her lip curled.
And then she snapped.
Her scream of rage echoed through the heavens as over a million portals erupted into existence once again.
The sky was now entirely filled with swirling rifts.
From these portals, every type of divine sword imaginable erged.
Black blades that caused the air to scream.
Sabers that distorted ti.
Greatswords that glowed with primordial light.
Daggers that tore reality.
She began shouting techniques, one after another:
"Formation Alpha: Radiant Spiral Rainfall!"
"Formation Sigma: Halo Wheel Convergence!"
"Array Trident Line–Devouring Fang Configuration!"
"Holy Arsenal: World-Edge Guillotine!!"
Each formation responded.
The swords moved with deadly intelligence, executing sweeping arcs, pinwheeling into one another, and detonating in perfect unison. Implosions collapsed space.
Blasts rippled across the landscape.
Clouds were vaporized.
The sky literally cleared—the force of her assault blew all atmospheric moisture away for miles, leaving a stark, pure-blue emptiness above them.
And in that clarity, hovering in the middle of her divine apocalypse—
Mika still sat.
Perfectly calm.
Still painting Charlotte’s nails.
A soft smile on his face.
Panting now—not from exhaustion, but sheer ntal agony—Yelena stared, trembling.
She hadn’t run out of mana. She hadn’t broken down physically.
But emotionally?
Seeing every single sword fail.
Seeing Mika not only survive, but thrive.
Seeing her daughter enjoying a spa session mid-battle while mocking her with cucumber-eye-smirks and soft giggles—
It was too much.
Her wings drooped. Her lips trembled. Her arms hung limp.
And still...Mika hadn’t even looked at her.
As if she didn’t matter.
As if she wasn’t even a threat.
He calmly blew across Charlotte’s toes, inspecting the polish with serene carefulness. Then, finally, he glanced her way.
"...Are you done yet?"
The question was so simple.
So gentle.
And yet, it shattered her more than all the mockery in the world.
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