The 9 realms army could only watch in horror as Kent made a one sided massacre.
Adding wind to the fire, Kent’s divine chakra and abyssal mace were wreaking havoc among the army lines. These two weapons targeted the mana blasters and warfare machinery.
The 9 realms army were trying different means to kill Kent. But before they form any groups or lay out any formation, Kent arrows rained above them like a blessing from hell.
The forbidden army who acted like apex killers became prey to the apex predator above. To their doom, there is no one to command or pass orders to the army.
The spectators of 9 realms watched in horror as their money spent on the 9 realms army going into the drain before their own eyes. The very few people who trusted sworn wizards began dancing. The business circles began changing sides in mere seconds and already the outside world scenario is changing with each passing moment.
On the battlefield…
The crimson clouds loomed above, flashing violent streaks of lightning across the sky, illuminating the shattered remains of the battlefield. The very ground trembled under the force of Kent’s unrelenting rampage. His red-burning aura made him appear as a vengeful deity, an unstoppable force of nature.
The sworn wizards, despite being on his side, found themselves trembling at the sight of his ferocious assault. Even the strongest among them hesitated to step too close to battlefield, fearing they might be caught in the storm of his fury.
“By the heavens… is he even human?” whispered one of the Fist Faction leaders, gripping his weapon tightly.
“I… I almost regret joining the sworn wizards,” another magus stammered, eyes wide with terror.
“We are lucky,” muttered the Wand Faction leader, swallowing hard. “Lucky that we chose the right side.”
Above, the lesser gods hovered in the sky, witnessing the battle from the safety of the heavens. Some came out of curiosity, some out of reverence, but all were shaken by the brutal slaughter unfolding before their eyes.
Kent’s movements were too fast to comprehend.
One moment, his hands grasped an arrow, the next, it was already piercing the heart of an enemy.
No one saw when he picked his arrows,
No one saw when he imbued them with divine spells,
No one saw when he released them with lethal precision.
Like time. Like death. Like fate. Kent’s arrows were inevitable.
The ground cracked apart, molten lava seeping through the shattered earth as Kent’s dragon rained fire bolts upon the enemy lines. The forbidden army, once feared across the 9 Realms, found themselves crushed beneath the dragon’s might, their once-indomitable formation shattered like brittle glass.
A veteran soldier of the 9 Realms Army collapsed to his knees, gripping his helmet in pure horror.
“This… this is no war,” he stammered. “This is annihilation!”
In the midst of the chaos, Jason Mama, bleeding and wounded, stumbled his way toward King Ragnar, who was already bound in enchanted chains. With one swift motion, he grabbed Ragnar by the hair and pressed a dagger to his throat.
“KENT! STOP THIS MADNESS!” Jason roared with desperation, his voice barely rising above the thunderous roars of battle. “Submit, or I will slit his throat!”
The arrows did not stop.
Jason snarled in frustration and slashed a deep cut across Ragnar’s cheek, drawing blood.
“I SAID STOP!” he bellowed.
The arrow rain stopped abruptly and everything came to stand still. As the light appeared, people finally got a chance to see what’s happening.
The war suddenly fell silent.
The entire battlefield, once drowning in the sounds of war cries and explosions, came to a sudden halt, as if the very universe had paused.
The 9 Realms Army stood frozen, unable to process the scene before them. Their once-assured victory had crumbled into ashes.
Around them, corpses piled high—more than four million soldiers had fallen to the wrath of a single man.
Even the gods were silent.
Jason’s breaths were ragged, his eyes darting around in disbelief. He had never—not once in his life—felt fear like this before.
And then, Kent spoke.
“You want me to kneel?” Kent murmured with an amused smirk.
“Yes… kneel down and bark like a dog, you bastard.” Jason cried in a hoarse tone.
But Kent laughed like he was watching an idiot.
With one hand, he reached into his storage ring and pulled out a weak, skinny young man—a hollow-eyed, tattered, and broken figure. A chain was wrapped around the boy’s neck, and he dangled like a lifeless puppet in Kent’s grasp.
Jason’s face turned white.
The blood drained from Ryon Lionheart’s face.
“S-Simon?!” Jason stammered, his voice shaking.
At the mention of his name, Simon weakly raised his head. His sunken eyes met his father’s, and for a moment, he felt alive again.
“F-Father… Save me… Please…” Simon sobbed, his voice barely a whisper.
Jason felt his rage explode.
“If this is the state of Simon…” Ryon Lionheart clenched his fists, his voice trembling. “What about my sons… Max and Phillip?”
A horrifying silence settled over the battlefield.
Jason’s hands shook. His teeth clenched in anger.
“KENT! YOU BASTARD!” Jason roared.
Kent pulled the chains which made Simon cry in agony.
Jason took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.
“Fine,” he spat. “Let’s make a deal.”
Kent’s golden eyes gleamed with amusement.
“A trade? How generous of you, Jason.” Kent chuckled. “But why should I trade when I can just kill you?”
Jason gritted his teeth, knowing that he was walking on a blade’s edge.
“You kill me, and your uncle dies too, Kent.” Jason sneered. “So choose. We exchange prisoners, or you let your uncle’s blood stain this battlefield.”
The world held its breath.
Kent paused for a moment… then smirked.
“Fine. Give me my uncle and that lady behind. I will return your useless son to you.”
The two warriors stepped forward, dragging their respective captives with them.
While the entire army stood like statues, Kent moved in between them, dragging Phillip behind. Not a single soldier dared to lift his head and stared into the eyes of Kent.
Soon, they both reached few feet distance.
Jason’s mind raced with calculations.
‘Once I have Simon, I’ll—’
SPLAT!
A long spear flew from the sky, piercing Jason’s skull clean through.
The impact sent blood spraying across the battlefield. Jason’s body jerked once before pinning straight onto the ground, his body stood like a red flag pole.
The world froze.
Every eye turned toward the sky.
There, standing atop a massive hawk, his expression grim and unyielding, was a mighty old man.
The battlefield fell into absolute silence.
The mighty Jason Mama, head of the 9 Realms Association, had been struck down in a single instant.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Only that old-man stood tall, his gaze like a blade, scanning the battlefield with an overwhelming presence.