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The ground trembled slightly. Sealed Artifact 1-42 was extremely difficult to operate, but despite its apparent weight, it moved with remarkable agility.
His green eyes hidden in the deep darkness of the visor, Leonard was drenched in sweat, struggling for breath. His first strike had missed, and his spirituality had already bottomed out. He had nothing left for a second swing.
The silver light that had dismembered Jason Beria began surfacing on his body, slowly embedding itself in his flesh amid a tearing pain.
He had arrived a step too late. Things seemed to be over already, with only a lifeless puddle of shadow before him. Through their mutually resonating spirituality, Leonard could almost feel 1-42's fury at having its prey stolen. It shifted its attention to the unfamiliar man before him.
The Desire Apostle was killed. Was this to destroy evidence, or something else... This is bad. My body is almost at its limit... His drained spirituality left Leonard dizzy, his flesh stinging, barely able to stand upright. The Red Gloves behind him were arriving one after another, guarding their surroundings as though facing a formidable enemy. Their captain, Soest, looked grimly at the armor, then at the man opposite them. Finally, he gritted his teeth and stopped looking at Leonard.
"Old Man... who is that?"
"A hidden... high-sequence powerhouse... in Backlund...?"
No one answered. The Parasite who had just been explaining Jason Beria's weaknesses and abilities had suddenly fallen silent. Receiving no response, Leonard felt puzzled, along with a vague sense that something was wrong.
This seemed to be a tense standoff, but the unfamiliar man showed not the slightest tension. Two or three seconds later, he sighed.
"I don't want complications at a time like this. Killing you would inevitably bring at least two demigods here