Huh? Are they all real?...

Some say the Moon King's armor was a gift from the goddess, others say it was a relic stolen from a dead man's grave by an evil impaler, and still others say it was just an ordinary suit of armor.

In fact, they are all right.

This was a gift from the goddess, a relic from the tomb, and ultimately just a very ordinary suit of armor.

However, the goddess who gave the gift was an eldest son, and the tomb she came from was a lost memorial sanctuary. It was ordinary because it was one of the many embellishments of the holy sword.

After taking it and the sword-shaped spear from the empty sword rack, it accompanied him through two entire eras: the Eternal Blood Moon and the Catastrophe of the Bewildered.

He had worn it to behead the Blood Queen, to fulfill his pact with the Darkmoon, and finally to bid farewell to his dearest friend Thorin.

When I wore it for my final battle, I genuinely thought it was destroyed.

It is said that at the end of the war, the only relic the Moon Goddess took with her was that sword-shaped spear stained with the blood of countless enemies.

"I never thought it would still be there."

Grand Duke Barbatos, who had retrieved the tray and was kneeling respectfully, said:

"Of all your relics, the only one that remained intact was that sword and spear, so Her Majesty the Goddess only took that. But your armor is indeed still there, though severely damaged. Fortunately, I, our ancestor, repaired it."

The first time, Moen bowed to them and said:

"Thank you!"

“It is an honor for our family to trim your nails, Your Majesty.”

Holding the helmet, Moen looked again at the chalk-white spiral tower and said:

"He's up there, isn't he?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The Pure White Dynasty's fleet was almost completely wiped out, but the war was not over yet, or rather, the war that would truly decide everything was only just beginning.

Everything before was merely to prevent the scales of war from tipping too far in their favor.

But this is good, I've been looking forward to this day for a long time.

Moen, having looked away, calmly said:

"Wearing armor".

Grand Duke Barbatos immediately rose and personally draped the armor over Moen.

After the final helmet was carefully placed on Moen's head by Grand Duke Barbatos.

She humbly bowed and made way for them:

"We warmly welcome your triumphant return, Your Majesty!"

Moen did not answer them, but simply continued toward the chalk tower in silence.

After so much has happened, the night is gradually drawing to a close.

The light of dawn quietly appeared on the distant horizon.

That light not only signifies the imminent arrival of the sun, but also represents the departure of the moon.

The pure white glow still lingered in the sky.

This means that everything here is still carefully hidden by the pure white goddess.

When Moen stepped onto the last step.

Moen also saw the final enemy.

A valiant king from the wilderness.

The White King, with lion and gold as its main colors.

He didn't look at the steps behind him; he looked towards the distant horizon.

The rising sun has already pierced through the darkness.

Hearing the noise behind him, he finally turned around and looked at Moen.

The two giant swords were still stuck on either side of him.

He didn't speak, but Moen knew he was smiling.

He laughed at himself for finally finding a worthy enemy.

Behind Moen, the Dark Moon was nowhere to be seen, and the Primal Moon had gradually disappeared as well.

It is now daytime; the long night has passed.

The White King placed his hands on the hilts of the twin swords, which were probably thicker than an adult's arm.

However, he immediately lowered his hand and silently looked at Moen.

Knowing what he meant, Moen raised his hand, revealing the unearthed ring, and said:

"I have weapons too, this and this!"

A crimson spear rose from the ground, and with a casual flick of his wrist, Moen twirled it and took it in his hand.

Only then did the White King reach out with satisfaction to his twin swords.

That's right, that's how it should be!

When the twin swords were pulled from the ground, the entire top of the tower seemed to be lifted up by his immense power.

Countless pebbles flew up in that instant.

Amidst the dust, a giant-like king, wielding twin blades, suddenly charged forward, covering a thousand miles in an instant.

The moment the twin blades were swung down, the blood spear in Moen's hand snapped in two.

However, while the twin blades severed the Blood Spear, they failed to strike Moen.

In a lightning-fast dodge, Moen sidestepped the heavy blow, then threw away the broken spear and raised his hand to stab at his opponent's body.

The crimson spear reformed in his hand, but Moen's attack still failed to hit his opponent.

The heavy blade shattered the blood spear with a mere casual block.

The difference in weaponry is too great.

But it's okay, Moen knows how to bridge that gap.

Using the heavy blade that the opponent swung again, Moen simply tapped it lightly and flew to the top of the giant's head.

New spears reappeared in Moen's hands and thrust out.

The towering king reacted, instinctively trying to raise his hand again to use his massive blade to block everything.

But the moment he raised his hand, he noticed something was wrong.

The knife was much heavier than usual.

It was from reaching out for leverage that he, wearing the Earth Ring, bumped into his own blade.

So what has changed is not the knife, but one's own power?

Did he achieve suppression?

With just a glance, the towering king understood everything.

He did not feel aggrieved or resentful.

Instead, he laughed even more happily during the gaps in his mask.

That's how it should be; in battle, you have to use everything you can!

If we don't have that spear, then we'll make up for it with the Nine Rings of Man!

This is the only right way; this is the only way it's worth fighting!

In the clash of metal, the towering king was pierced in the back by both of Morn's spears.

The immense force even caused him to involuntarily fall forward.

Although he regained his footing after a short while, he swung his sword sharply behind him.

But the expected feeling of cutting meat did not occur; instead, the knife suddenly felt heavy as someone used it to break free.

Turning around, Moen once again held two blood spears in his hands and twirled them in a flourish.

At the same time, the towering king felt his power being suppressed more and more.

The swords and armor were much heavier than before.

Conversely, the corners of his mouth turned up even more.

He raised his greatsword and pointed it at Moen, signaling him to continue.

Moen readily agreed.

This time, however, it was Moen who made the sudden move.

He brandished his twin swords, shattering the blood spear.

In his maneuvering, Moen barely managed to stay alive by sticking to the edge of his opponent's blade with every move.

But even if the opponent swung his sword hundreds of times, cutting his spear in half hundreds of times.

Moen still wasn't hit even once.

This is a battle of skill and strength.

It's more of a clash of skills.

This is from Moen's memory.

I know how to maintain my rhythm, how to see through the opponent's intentions and dodge fatal attacks, and how to use all my resources to achieve victory.

It was as if he had experienced countless battles like this before.

The battle between the two kings continues.

But the vampires below stared blankly at the seemingly motionless chalk tower.

Why is there no movement?

Let alone a battle between kings, even a fight between two demigods would create an enormous commotion.

Duke Accardo, who had already seen his son, looked thoughtfully at the chalk tower and said:

"Because both of them were rare and benevolent kings."

The battles of kings should not be so simple, and the only reason is that neither king wants to cause further scars on the land and the world because of themselves.

And that's enough; they're not fighting, they're enjoying the battle.

Another spear was shattered, but Moen, who was flipping in the air, seized a rare opening.

He thrust out a new spear from a tricky angle with a sharp turn.

Amidst the clanging of metal, Moen's spear pierced his opponent's back.

But the giant sword, which should have slowed down a bit to allow him time to retreat, suddenly accelerated and slashed down.

For the first time, the sound of flesh being cut echoed across the otherwise quiet battlefield.

The towering king, whose back was almost entirely riddled with blood-stained spears, turned around and re-inserted his twin swords into the ground. In the rare moment of respite, he crossed his arms and looked at the Moon King before him.

This is not a sign of disrespect, nor is it because the outcome is already decided; it's simply that he also needs rest.

Even if it's just for this short period of time.

He had waited a long time for that last strike, but even at such a crucial moment, his opponent had reserved a sliver of strength to give him a chance to survive.

The blow didn't sever the opponent's body as expected, but it did sever the opponent's right hand.

And in front of the towering king was the Moon King.

The helmet had fallen to the ground, and the right arm had been severed at the shoulder.

A tremendous feeling of exhaustion washed over me.

Both sides then made their own adjustments in silence.

After three breaths, Moen suppressed the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion.

After picking up the helmet from the ground and putting it back on, Moen also picked up his own hand, which only needed a gentle touch.

The arm has fully recovered.