"So, you seem quite confident in your strength."
Artoria spoke as casually as if she were chatting with a neighbor, her tone light and unhurried. The grip on her sword was loose, almost dismissive.
Saint George, however, dared not let his guard down. Every muscle in his body tensed as he carefully watched her every move.
He saw her approaching, her dark armor gleaming faintly in the ominous light.
"Let me show you... the true meaning of power."
Saint George raised his vigilance to its absolute peak.
And yet, in a fleeting moment of distraction—
That devil-like figure had already closed the distance, standing right before him.
His horrified eyes followed her every motion as she raised her knightly sword.
In the span of a heartbeat, Saint George swung [Ascalon] horizontally to block the incoming strike.
"This," Artoria murmured, her voice chilling, "is what power looks like."
Three consecutive slashes merged into one blinding strike, all converging on a single point of [Ascalon]'s blade.
Clang!
A resounding impact echoed, and Saint George's eyes widened in disbelief. His sacred sword—[Ascalon], famed for its dragon-slaying power—had been severed cleanly in two.
Warm blood spurted from a massive gash that stretched from his shoulder to his side, as though threatening to cleave him in half.
He staggered back, clutching his wound, his face pale as life ebbed from his body.
"So... the gap in power is really this vast...?"
---
The battlefield soon became a magnet, drawing curious onlookers in droves.
But those who arrived found nothing but the aftermath of destruction: chaotic surges of mana and a land riddled with scars of battle.
The victor had already departed, and to the one who triumphed, the ants arriving now weren't worth a second glance. So long as they didn't get in her way, they were of no concern.
The terrifying power that had shaken the world, fleeting though it was, became known to all beings across the globe.
Some were shocked. Some were terrified. Some became fanatically obsessed.
The first to arrive were the Campiones—humanity's most troublesome "problem children" and thrill-seekers.
Their aim, of course, was to find the source of this incredible power before anyone else.
If it were an artifact, they would claim it for themselves.
If it were a god, they would challenge and slay it to usurp its authority.
Such arrogance and overconfidence were the trademarks of the Campiones, the very qualities that led them to the absurd act of deicide.
But they were too late—the battle had already ended.
Even though they failed to find the source of that power, these Campiones quickly turned on each other.
For them, even a fellow Campione was a potential target for battle. Prideful and reckless, they showed no hesitation in killing one another.
It was only after the Campiones departed that magus associations and other cautious entities dared to approach the battlefield.
Yet even then, the overwhelming residue of mana, raging like an unrelenting tsunami, prevented them from getting close.
This was the power of gods, and it revealed humanity's insignificance. Days had passed since the battle ended, yet the remnants of divine power still made the battlefield inaccessible.
"This... is like a myth brought to life," a magus murmured after observing the battlefield through a far-sight spell. He let out a sharp breath, his awe evident.
A colleague nearby warned him, "Don't stare too long. The lingering mana in that place is like sunlight. Even from this distance, and with all these precautions, prolonged observation will blind you."
Reluctantly, the magus deactivated his spell, casting one last wistful glance.
Humanity had always been drawn to power.
Just as people in every era worshiped gods and prayed for their blessings, they were fascinated by divine strength yet terrified of its overwhelming might.
Only humans could hold such contradictory emotions.
"Did you hear the rumors? They say there were two heretic gods involved this time," the magus asked his companion.
"Yeah, that's what the reports claim. This battlefield must have been caused by their clash... terrifying, isn't it?"
"Do we know their names?"
"One of them has been confirmed—it was Saint George, the dragonslaying saint. But the other remains unidentified. That's why they've sent clairvoyants here to try and uncover clues."
These two magi were merely scouts, tasked with assessing the area for safety before their organization sent in more personnel.
"A battle between gods... I wonder who won in the end," one of them mused.
"Both were true gods. It's hard to imagine either going down easily. My guess is they both fell, and now they're recovering somewhere, waiting to settle the score when the time comes."
---
Clairvoyants—though exceedingly rare—were present in some major organizations or societies. Their abilities varied widely, with some capable of glimpsing legends, divine powers, or even fragments of battles long past.
Perhaps one of them would uncover the truth.
Perhaps someone would realize that there had been a third entity present during the clash.
But none of that mattered to Artoria now.
At this moment, Artoria's strength was far weaker than when she defeated Nuada and Saint George.
"I think I've finally figured out how these two extra abilities work."
She muttered to herself with an expressionless face as she studied her status screen.
[Final King (Pseudo)]
Though she hadn't read the original Campione! novels, Artoria was familiar with the series through fanworks and understood its concepts.
The Final King was the ultimate boss, tasked with slaying all Campiones.
As the strongest of the [Steel] Heretic Gods, the Final King was a hero destined to vanquish Demon Kings. They possessed two extraordinary abilities: the power to endlessly absorb spirit energy from the earth while standing on it, and the ability to grow stronger the more Campiones existed in the world.
Somehow, as a pseudo-Final King, Artoria had inherited both abilities.
The difference, however, lay in her control.
Unlike the true Final King, who passively drained the planet's life force to the point of destruction or until they succeeded in defeating all Campiones and returned to slumber, Artoria could control this absorption.
Moreover, the power amplification from her abilities wasn't as extreme as the true Final King's—unsurprising, given her status as a "pseudo" version.
---
T/N: I see I see
...
Huh. You really stuck it out all the way to the end.
Didn't think you had the patience. Guess I was wrong.
WiseTL's the one who actually made all this come together. I'm just here putting a bow on it... or, well, shoving it in a backpack and calling it a day. Same thing.
If you had fun, you know what to do:
👉 [patreon.com/WiseTL]
And if you're the social type, there's a Discord too. Pretty decent spot to hang out—no battles required.
👉 [discord.gg/wisetl]
Alright. That's enough standing around. Go on—before you make it weird.
—Leaf