"Mortal!"
En Sabah Nur glared at him.
Yet fear had taken root in his heart. Even the swirling energy in his pupils had stopped, as though it, too, was stunned that Alvin had flicked his attack away so effortlessly. His arrogance, his certainty that everything was under his control, was gone. Only panic on the verge of collapse remained.
"You're afraid." Alvin's voice was calm, stating a fact.
The Demon Sword Draconis hummed incessantly in his hand. Countless distorted faces on its blade stirred to life, releasing silent shrieks.
Those were the wails of the billions of souls devoured by the Demon Sword. Merely hearing them would shatter a mortal's sanity.
"Impossible..." En Sabah Nur growled under his breath, clenching all eight fists as he stared at Alvin in disbelief. "I'm the one chosen by God. This is the power God bestowed upon me. Why are you..."
7
"Chosen by God? Don't make me laugh."
Alvin sneered, his eyes brimming with scorn, and took a step forward. "You're so stupid it's laughable. Even now, do you still think you're some lucky soul chosen by 'God'?"
That single step made the entire Pyramid groan beneath an unbearable burden.
Cobweb cracks spread across the stone bricks. The purple patterns steeped in ritual power withered and peeled away at a speed visible to the naked eye.
It was as though Alvin's mere presence was enough to make the surrounding ritual unravel on its own. "If you don't believe me, let me prove it." He slowly raised his left hand, gripping the Demon Sword.
Blood-red patterns lit up along the thorn-patterned hilt. The blade trembled, ringing with insatiable hunger.
The Pyramid at the center of the ritual should have been the source of its six nodes. Yet the sword was like a ravenous monster,