A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

"bite!!!!!!!"

The blades of the sword and the sickle clashed, sparks flying onto the skeletal mask.

When he puts on these helmets or masks, it means he has to act like a cold-blooded monster.

"Boom!!!!" The third rider swung his left hand, the back of his hand slamming directly into Bray's body.

Since the scythe was blocked, take advantage of the opening to attack with bare hands.

His current power is enough to kill any vulnerable person.

The Golden Seed did not use this incredibly powerful force with much care.

Because it is so powerful, there is no need to consider its use.

However, the third rider is of a lower class, and because of his weakness, he focuses on developing skills.

The same applies to the techniques of using brute force and divine power. In particular, since the previous Deathbringer's divine power was limited, the third rider used it with exceptional finesse.

There were no exaggerated special effects, but every strike was enough to take a life, and not a single bit of superfluous divine power was wasted.

Just like this seemingly casual wave of the hand.

As the back of his hand slammed down, Bray's limbs were tightly held by the rising undead, leaving him no way to avoid the blow and forcing him to take it squarely.

At the critical moment, Bray forced himself to retreat rapidly in the direction of the attack, barely managing to mitigate most of the impact.

Even so, Bray was still badly knocked away.

At least he won't be killed in one blow.

In just a quarter of an hour, Bray was covered in blood.

Bray looked miserable, but the third rider showed no sign of stopping.

The reason is simple: Bray is still standing and shows no signs of weakening.

His right eye was lifeless, his gaze devoid of any emotion.

It's not hard to see that Bray is not a warlike person. His reason for fighting until now is simple: he doesn't intend to die in this godforsaken place.

"Whether I win or lose, I cannot leave the underworld."

"In that case, I'd like to know some things."

The third rider appeared like a ghost, instantly dragging a huge scythe in front of Bray who had just stood still.

"Clang—" A longsword was firmly blocked in the trajectory of the scythe's attack, preventing the scythe from advancing an inch further. Behind the cold glint was Brei's calm gaze.

“Breaklas, do you think that day marked the end of the world?” Instead of knocking Bray away, he slowly pushed him toward the rocks behind him.

“Everyone talks about the end of the world, but the end of the world means the final judgment day. What did we do wrong that we have to be judged?” The Third Rider’s voice came through the mask into Bray’s ears.

“I don’t understand philosophy, or do you want to hear me say ‘we did nothing wrong’?” Bray said bluntly.

"Answering this question is meaningless."

He's confirmed the third rider, so what?

"..." The third rider paused for a second, but quickly recovered and gave Bray no chance to escape.

“Yeah, we humans just love asking pointless questions,” the third rider said softly.

This was followed by an upward slash.

"Bang!" Bray blocked the tricky attack, but his hand went numb afterward.

After the weapons clashed, time seemed to freeze around them, and both of them paused for perhaps a second.

Silence also signifies that a "storm" is coming.

Without warning, the third rider grabbed a piece from the space of the underworld with his left hand and threw it at Bray.

It wasn't a metaphorical approach; the third rider used Dizoka's divine power to forcibly grab a portion of Yomi and use it as a weapon to smash it against Bray.

The portion of the underworld that was captured manifests in reality as a sphere mixed with resentment and darkness.

"boom!!!!!!"

Before the sphere even touched the ground, the ground sank deeply.

Bray, who was facing the sphere, lost some of his physical sensation in an instant.

Compared to the physical impact, the greater effect of the mine-laying operation is the deprivation of life force.

No matter how advanced your defensive skills are, it's impossible to avoid losing your life.

"Shatter!" Before losing sensation in his right hand, Bray closed his right eye and focused all his attention on the next sword strike.

“Black Key!” he shouted the name of the blade without light.

The sword did not respond to Bray's shout with sound, but it responded in a more powerful way—

A desolate land, completely different from the Yellow Springs, appeared before everyone, swept up by the wind and sand.

A fortress stands atop it, quietly bathed in the glow of the bright moon above.

He hadn't regained his senses, but at this moment, Bray could unleash a full-blown sword strike.

that's enough.

The broadsword slashed at the sphere that was so close, radiating its oppressive power.

With each thrust of the blade, countless fragments would fall from the "black keys".

But this sword can cut through this thing in front of it.

Even the most absurd existence can be severed before my eyes.

"Severed water flow" and "Severed sea"

The crisp sound was a sign that the broadsword had shattered completely.

But along with the sword, a piece torn from the underworld also shattered.

After unleashing the sword, Bray fell to the ground in a disheveled state, then struggled to get up using the parts of his body that still had feeling.

"..." The third rider looked at Bray in shock, then regained his composure.

The sphere shattered, and his senses gradually returned. Bray managed to stand, gripping the hilt of his bladeless sword tightly.

"I..." The third rider started to speak, but then stopped.

Because he noticed the fragments of the sword, like crows, drifting in the air.

This... should have landed on the ground.

He instinctively raised his sickle.

The moment he assumed a defensive stance, a flock of crows, gleaming with a cold light, swarmed towards him.

The fragments flew by and eventually returned to where they belonged.

"Clang!" After the last piece was pieced together, Bray planted his broadsword heavily into the ground.

The third rider looked at the numerous cuts and slashes on his own body, as well as his completely shattered arm and leg armor, and then looked up at the exhausted Bray.

He wasn't injured by Bray's blow, but he could clearly understand one fact.

Bray is capable of breaking through his own defenses.

"So that's how it is..." he muttered to himself, and no one knew what he meant.

The third rider has always felt that humans are weak, and that they don't even have a chance to fight back against those self-proclaimed demigods.

He never believed that people could accomplish anything great on their own.

There are always people more talented than yourself born into this world, and these people will surely reach even greater heights in the future.

But when will a group of exceptionally talented people who can stand up to God be born?

Will these cruel times give these people time to grow?

There is no such time or space. Humanity's future is being squeezed to the limit by these demigods, leaving no room to breathe.

Therefore, the only way to obtain this possibility is through the intervention of the gods.

It doesn't matter whether the other party is genuinely doing a favor or using you as a prop.

To get rid of the wolves, he took the path of luring in lions.

Even if his evil deeds were so heinous that being nailed to the ground countless times could not erase his name, he still believed that doing so could bring a sliver of hope.

However, his thinking has now been somewhat shaken.

The one-eyed scavenger in front of me was disheveled and swaying precariously, barely managing to stay afloat.

However, the scavengers relied on their own strength, entirely on themselves, without taking any help from the power of demigods or true gods.

"Ah...people can be that strong." That was his only thought.

If we had more and more time, would more characters like this emerge?

Will.

If there were more powerful people like Bray, then even the weak wouldn't need to rely on lions to drive away wolves.

The wind and sand swept by, enveloping the figure of the third rider.

"They look really fierce." The third rider pushed aside the dust and traversed all space in one step, arriving in front of the towering fortress.

Less than half a meter away from him was Blakeras.

A person covered in blood, who knows how terrible the injuries he had suffered—yet still standing.

A normal person would have been pulverized to pieces under such a destructive attack, let alone be able to stand up.

"Get up again and again until you can deliver the fatal blow?" the third rider asked Bray.

His answer was a sword that showed no hesitation.

What is this man thinking at this moment? I can't understand him, and I can't fathom his thoughts.

The third rider's scythe deflected Bray's sword.

But then came the second and third sword strikes, just like his previous fierce attacks.

This time, however, the initiator of the fierce offensive was Bray, who was on the verge of falling at any moment.

It was as if the more severely injured he was, the more his strength would soar; his attacks were incredibly chaotic and his angles incredibly tricky.

If it were just a contest of combat skills, the Third Knight knew he would be defeated the moment they met.

The reason he was able to stand in front of Bray with such a dominant position was simply because of Dizoka's immense power.

Does a more severe injury mean greater strength...? This is undoubtedly an illusion, a huge illusion.

The fact that this man maintained peak fighting ability even in such a terrible state creates a strong sense of contrast.

What truly allowed Bray to gradually turn the tide was the rhythm of the battle and the passage of time.

While fighting the Third Rider, Bray was constantly getting used to this kind of earth-shattering battle.

He was getting used to the Third Rider's scythe, the Third Rider's destructive power, and the intervals between the Third Rider's attacks.

I've gotten used to everything about this battle.

"It's just like the stories I heard from others when I was a child."

“He’s practically a demon.” The third rider said, his left hand fingers gathering immense divine power.

“If we can win like this, it doesn’t matter,” Bray said casually, glancing at the third rider.

The sword swept past, and the divine magic could no longer be used.

The third rider had barely considered using divine magic when Bray severed the source of his divine power.

"Boom!!" However, after the divine spell was interrupted, the third rider hooked Bray with his scythe and slammed him hard to the ground.

With a casual strike, the Yellow Springs trembled.

However, the third rider did not want to just hit the ground; he wanted to hit the mine.

Looking at the empty ground beneath the scythe, he swung the scythe without pausing, aiming it at the man standing to his side and behind him.

"Clang!" The scythe was blocked by the longsword, sparks flying.

"In the underworld, all the dead are my 'eyes'." The hand gripping the scythe suddenly increased its strength, sending Bray and his sword flying.