Helion took an involuntary step back as he sensed what was unfolding within Renard.
For although the latter appeared motionless and physically spent, the glow in his eyes bore witness to a burning will.
A will so intense it seed capable of shattering the impossible.
Renard’s body began to glow.
Stigmas slowly appeared across his skin.
Yet Helion could feel it: this was different from the previous tis Renard had resorted to Sigma Mode.
("I don’t know what he’s preparing. Nevertheless, it would be wiser not to let him succeed.")
"Yorb, decapitate him!"
The panic in His Highness’s voice startled Yorb, who obeyed instantly.
One of his gigantic legs rose into the air before crashing down with brutal force toward Renard’s head.
"Die, human!" Marquis Yorb shouted, already convinced of the battle’s outco.
But soone else had already spoken the final word on his life.
The limb did co down... only to be severed in a single, clean strike.
What had been re anxiety for Helion now beca certainty: no stigma covered Renard’s body anymore, even though he was in a state of fusion with his weapon, which now shone with a faint glow.
No.
This could no longer be called a fusion between body and soul.
It was a perfect union, where the material body donned the immaterial, and where the soul, once intangible, embraced the tangible world.
A marriage in which their limits were cast aside to create sothing more complete.
>
---
Renard was in a trance.
His faithful axe, which over the years and countless battles had beco an extension of his body, had crossed a threshold.
It had beco him.
And he had beco the axe.
His resonance, the >, had finally revealed its full potential at the edge of death, allowing him to reach a level of Sigma Mode he had only ever glimpsed in dreams: Total Resonance.
A renewed strength now coursed through him. His body was no longer entirely material and had temporarily withdrawn from the effects of the poison.
("I can feel my power at its peak... but this will only be enough for a single attack before my ether reserves run dry.")
("No.")
("I have no regrets. I can leave in peace.")
Renard brought his axe down in a >, severing one of Yorb’s legs in a single blow.
Yet although this attack should have drained his ether reserves and rendered him unable to fight, he remained standing.
A smile on his lips, he resud a combat stance as if nothing were wrong.
("Burn. Burn as much as you can, until the very last breath.")
At that mont, for his final assault, Renard lunged forward, consuming his soul in each strike.
---
He now moved at an absurd speed.
In a flash, he tore a second leg from Yorb.
Seeing this as an affront, the marquis reacted with all his might, forming three gigantic fireballs in the air.
The heat beca suffocating, a testant to his fury.
Renard did not retreat.
He did not dodge.
On the contrary, he stood firm before the flas, gripping his weapon even tighter.
Three enormous, semi-transparent axes were launched into the air.
>
Like rackets returning a ball, the Celestial Axes struck the fireballs with the flat of their blades, turning the attack back on Yorb.
The impact hit him head-on and hurled him to the ground.
"You wretched human... how dare you?!"
Marquis Broy, who had remained at a distance, was boiling with rage.
An imnse wave of mites rose into the air before raining down upon Renard.
Faced with the swarm, he did not remain still.
But instead of adopting a defensive stance, he did the opposite.
The ground cracked violently beneath his feet as he launched himself straight into the writhing mass.
"AAAAAAH!"
When the two collided, a scream rang out.
Renard was screaming at the top of his lungs, not in pain, but in courage.
He plunged into the wave, slaughtering the mites one after another.
So managed to sting him, to wound him, but he did not retreat.
His will overca the pain.
Diving ever deeper into the heart of the swarm, he cut down dozens with a single motion.
---
Helion could only stand there, stunned by the spectacle.
How could a human, supposedly on the brink of death, accomplish such feats?
His intellect failed to explain it, and he remained speechless.
"Your Highness..."
Yorb’s sigh pulled him from his reverie.
Regaining a more assured tone, Helion asked:
"What of the other humans? Have they been eliminated as they should have been?"
Yorb extended his senses in search of the ether sacks that were humans.
He felt fewer than ten.
Kneeling as best he could before Helion, he replied.
Though two of his legs had been severed, he could still move, even if parts of his body had been scorched. Pain concerned him little; no suffering was greater than disappointing His Highness.
"There are only about ten left. And your valiant subjects will not be long in annihilating them."
Good, Helion thought.
"Make sure that this human witnesses with his own eyes the dreadful fate of his n. His will shall be broken, and it will be easier to capture him."
---
Yorb did not hesitate to comply.
Once again uniting their strength with Broy, the two marquises, setting aside their egos, fought Renard with renewed intensity.
Flas, webs as sharp as blades, lethal stingers...
And yet, despite all this, Renard still stood.
More than half of his soul had been consud, carrying away fragnts of his mories, his emotions, his reason, leaving him little more than a remnant of himself.
And still, he continued to fight, borne by an obstinate will.
Unaware of Helion’s plan and assaulted by both marquises, he was hurled several hundred ters away by a combined attack.
His body slamd violently into the ground.
When he rose a mont later, he saw them.
There, on the ground, lay the lifeless bodies of his n, surrounded by noble Calamities celebrating their triumph.
Sothing clicked.
He froze.
Then, without a second passing, he burst into laughter.
A powerful, liberating laugh.
The reason he thought he had lost seed to return to him.
"I have never been prouder to have had you under my command.
Even in the face of the worst, you never stopped fighting. Even in death, I see nothing in your expressions but an eternal light."
He drew a deep breath before declaring in a loud voice:
"I, Renard, chief of the city of Orion, citizen and proud knight of Eterniti in service to its king, proclaim it: you, Calamities, will never shake us. You will never trample us. You will never defeat us."
These words reignited the fury of the Calamities, who all threw themselves at him.
Renard did not retreat.
His gaze turned toward the center of the duchy, where all threads converged.
And before the marquises could reach him, he raised his faithful axe one last ti, focusing all his soul, all his will, down to the very last drop.
("I am at your side now, Arnaud, my son. I entrust the rest to you. Know that I believe in you.")
>
The axe lit up with a thousand sparks, burst from his hands, and surged straight ahead, slicing through every web, every Calamity in its path, until it reached Duchess Exa and ca to a halt.
Then both were reduced to dust , the axe and the knight.
---
Thus ended a battle that had lasted nearly an hour.
All the knights who had chosen to hold back the forces of the duchy perished.
The sole witness to their glorious fall, San walked away, his heart heavy.
.
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