Return of the Expeditionary Forces

The Wizard World's expeditionary forces returned in scattered waves.

For a time, the entire Wizard World was filled with a harmonious atmosphere.

Of course, even amid this harmony, a trace of helplessness arose.

"Has Arthur still not returned?"

In a core space outside the World Gate, Garfina and the others stood looking around, but they couldn't see Arthur anywhere.

"Still not back?"

The Lord of Fairies and the Mother of Earth exchanged glances, their expressions grave.

Before this, to ensure the Wizard World's expeditionary forces could return safely, Arthur had gone alone to cover their retreat, facing the gods led by the God of Death by himself. Could something have happened to him?

"I'm sure he's fine."

Makado shook his head and analyzed the situation rationally. "The Emerald Master is already a King. Even at the height of my power, I couldn't have taken him down."

"Though the God of Death in that world is powerful, he's still no match for the Emerald Master."

His analysis was sound and his logic clear. He didn't think for a moment that Arthur would be trapped in the World of Gods.

Sure enough, a moment later, Arthur emerged from the World Gate.

But compared to before, he looked utterly battered.

His body was covered in wounds, with the laws of death surging through and coiling around them. They had sunk into his very bones and could not be removed.

Streams of Emerald Blood dripped from his body, faintly tinged with all seven colors. It was dazzlingly beautiful, filled with radiant divine light and power.

There was no doubt he was gravely injured. Countless wounds covered his body, his aura had sunk to its lowest point, and he looked utterly frail.

A blade had pierced his chest, nearly running through his entire body and