The orange-red greatsword pierced straight through Luther's chest, spreading its terrifying influence throughout his body.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Countless tiny explosions rang out inside Luther. Every cell in his body rapidly disintegrated beneath the greatsword's orange-red light, forcibly stripped of life. This was the authority of [destruction], the complete annihilation of something at its very roots!
Luther felt no pain. Instead, his consciousness seemed to drift out of his body, dimly sensing everything around him.
Beside him, Antiya had lost her composure, supporting him as she cried out in panic. At the distant entrance to the giant palace, Larion, the burly Grand Patriarch of the Church of the God of Combat, stared toward them. In the sea of flames behind him, Akhmatova Einhorn's cries of pain were also weakening. He seemed about to recover.
Across the boundless wasteland, a squad of powerful warriors in silver armor charged toward [Greed]'s carriage to escort their future emperor.
Whoosh...
The sound of the tide grew louder.
Luther's consciousness slowly returned. He could sense that the cold will had abruptly abandoned its attempt to occupy his mind, instead rushing toward the wound in his chest with the tide!
Boom!
An immense collision seemed to occur somewhere unseen. Light blazed from Luther's wound, and the orange-red Twilight Greatsword trembled violently. Soon, cracks spread across the surface of this terrifying weapon, and it shattered completely into countless fragments of light.
The Twilight Greatsword, an angel-level weapon of authority, had actually been destroyed just like that! Luther opened his eyes.
"You're awake!"
Antiya cried in delight, supporting him with her hand. When she looked down, the wound in his chest was already healing rapidly.
"Yes."
Luther nodded at her, his face no longer contorted with pain.
It was all thanks to that Grand Patriarch. The Twilight Greatsword