Ultraman: It turns out this is the easy mode.

Just as Cui Ming finished off Magmakiba, the duel between Lindis and Saeko Busujima was also nearing its end on the other side of the battlefield.

Lindis held the longsword, a weapon incorporating cosmic combat techniques, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground. Despite being splattered with red blood, she stood tall and straight, her eyes sharp as an eagle's. Opposite her, the Magma alien's armor was tattered and riddled with wounds of varying depths; his hand gripping the arm sword trembled incessantly, clearly at his last gasp.

"Give up the fight, your companions are already dead." Lindis's voice was calm yet tinged with coldness. She hated drawn-out battles and disliked wasting time with enemies who had lost their fighting ability.

But the Magma alien remained defiant, panting and roaring, "I will not admit defeat! Magma aliens have no cowards!" With that, it dragged its injured body and charged at Lindis again, attempting a final struggle.

Lindis's eyes turned cold, and she said no more. With a light step, she dodged the attack like a ghost, her wrist flicking as her longsword drew a perfect arc, whistling through the air, and slashed precisely at the Magma alien's neck.

With a soft "whoosh," accompanied by the crisp sound of bones breaking, the Magma alien's head fell to the ground, rolling several meters away. Red blood gushed from its neck, splattering everywhere. The headless body staggered forward a couple more steps before collapsing heavily to the ground, completely still.

Lindis sheathed her sword, glanced down at the severed head on the ground, her face expressionless—severing the enemy's head was her favorite way to end things, clean, swift, and ensuring complete death. If she encountered monsters that could live after their heads were severed, she was already prepared; she would simply chop them into pieces until they lost all signs of life.

Outside the fence, the spectators erupted in cheers upon witnessing this scene, with many whistling: "Lady Lindis is so cool! That was a beautiful strike!" "A decapitation is definitely the most satisfying!"

Not far from Lindis, Saeko Busujima's battle presented a different, chilling scene.

Saeko Busujima's katana wasn't stained with much blood, but the Magma alien opposite her had long lost its previous arrogance. It lay sprawled on the ground, convulsing, its armor riddled with countless tiny cuts, each oozing blood—a horrifying sight.

Unlike Lyndis, who seeks a swift end, Saeko Busujima is more ruthless—she prefers to skin her enemies alive, slowly consuming them in agony and fear through the most agonizing methods. In the battle just now, she didn't rush to kill, but instead used her katana to precisely inflict non-fatal yet extremely painful wounds on the Magma alien's body. Each cut avoided vital points, maximizing the opponent's suffering.

At this moment, the Magma alien was no longer strong enough to resist, only able to let out weak howls, its eyes filled with despair. Saeko Busujima slowly walked up to it, squatted down, and gently patted its cheek with the back of her katana, her tone carrying a cold smile: "Why aren't you howling anymore? Weren't you very imposing just now?"

The Magma alien opened its mouth, but couldn't utter a complete sound. It could only look at Saeko Busujima with pleading eyes, hoping she would grant it a quick death. But Saeko Busujima clearly had no intention of granting its wish. She stood up, gripped her katana, and swung it at the Magma alien again. This time, the blade sliced ​​across its arm, leaving another deep, bone-revealing wound. "Aaaaaah—!" The Magma alien screamed in agony, its body curling into a ball, completely powerless to struggle. The surrounding spectators watched this scene. Some found it too cruel and instinctively turned their faces away, while others were stunned by Saeko Busujima's ruthlessness and couldn't help but exclaim, "Sama Saeko Busujima is too cruel! This live dismemberment is the ultimate torture! It's amazing!!!"

Not long after, the Magma alien, writhing in endless agony, finally stopped breathing. Saeko Busujima sheathed her katana, gently wiping the blade, her face still bearing that cold smile, as if she had just accomplished something utterly ordinary.

Just as Cui Ming, Lindis, and Saeko Busujima were about to leave, a sharp voice suddenly pierced through the noise of the crowd and echoed throughout the venue.

"Storm One!!!"

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a uniquely shaped alien striding towards them. His entire body was covered in blue and white scales that shimmered with a cold light in the sunlight. A conspicuous light was on his forehead, flashing like a small signal light, and on his chest was a device resembling the color timer of an Ultraman warrior, which was flashing regularly, seemingly indicating his power.

He brandished a strangely shaped weapon—a hook-like sword with spikes, its blade gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen, clearly no ordinary weapon. This man was none other than Basil, the cosmic sea man who had once plotted to rule Earth's oceans and was somewhat notorious in the cosmos.

Basil walked to the fence, pushed it with both hands, and the seemingly sturdy metal fence collapsed easily with a loud crash. He stepped into the arena, his eyes fixed on Cui Ming, and roared, "Storm One! I challenge you!!!" His voice was full of provocation and resentment, as if he was extremely dissatisfied with Cui Ming's previous achievements and had come specifically to settle the score with the renowned "Storm One."

As Basil pushed aside the fence and stepped onto the battlefield, his gaze locked onto Cui Ming, his chest churning with barely suppressed excitement and determination. He tightened his grip on the spiked hook sword in his hand, the cold gleam of the blade reflecting the sunlight as if mirroring his unwavering conviction—he believed he could win, and he was certain he could win!
For this day, he practiced swordsmanship for three whole years on a desolate planet deep in space, facing meteorites. Every day, he swung his sword tens of thousands of times under the scorching sun until his arms were numb and he couldn't lift them anymore; in the extreme cold of minus 100 degrees Celsius, even when his fingers were frozen purple, he never stopped practicing. Every point of the hook-shaped sword was honed to an unparalleled sharpness, and every line on the blade was etched with his sweat and perseverance.

He even sought out renowned swordsmen from across the universe to spar with, learning from each defeat, dismantling and integrating their techniques, and ultimately developing his own highly lethal swordsmanship.

I must win! (End of Chapter)