After that, [The World] moved at extreme speed, thrusting in an instant to right in front of God's Attendant. Even Roger didn't react in time—you could tell just how terrifyingly fast it was.
But this was a battle between Stand and Stand. As long as God's Attendant stood in front of Roger, it would not allow [The World] to harm him in the slightest. So the instant [The World] struck, even though God's Attendant couldn't clearly see its movement, it still knew to throw its body in front of Roger.
And it didn't take the hit for nothing—it manifested a circular shield from its body, hovering before it.
A servant had to have survival skills—especially a servant meant to protect its master.
[The World]'s fist slammed into the shield. The impact was brutal, but it didn't leave even a scratch on that shield.
Dior was shocked. He hadn't expected this second-rate Stand to display such power—strong enough to block [The World]'s attacks.
You had to understand: [The World]'s striking power was among the very best in the entire Stand world. The only one who could trade blows with it was the Star Platinum that had once fought alongside it until dawn.
"Looks like Porco really was a hidden powerhouse. That bastard… so he was a spy from the very beginning," Dior said through gritted teeth. "I should've known people from this world can't be trusted."
"But it's already too late. You have nowhere left to run, Dior!"
God's Attendant spoke—and in the next instant, countless fists extended from behind it.
Like a Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva, every punch precisely struck [The World], blasting it away in an instant.
Two fists couldn't beat four hands—let alone when the hands weren't four, but tens of thousands.
[The World] quickly couldn't hold up.
It was forced back again and again.
Until it retreated all the way back in front of Dior.
Because a Stand is linked to its user, the pain inflicted on [The World] also hit Dior at the same time.
Dior's face twisted in fury. He hadn't expected to be stopped here.
If things followed the original plan, he would have already lost—except he had come with a trump card.
"Looks like if I want to kill you… I can't hold back anymore," Dior said suddenly.
The moment those words left his mouth, his aura changed sharply—like he became a different person. A strange presence seeped out from him, hard to describe, but it looked lethally dangerous.
Staring Roger's way, Dior entered the battlefield himself. Yellow light flared around his hands as he charged at Roger.
The instant he rushed in, God's Attendant immediately raised a shield wall, trying to block Dior out.
But what it didn't expect was that right as Dior was about to reach it, he stopped—and then he yanked outward into empty air with both hands.
A violent shockwave surged from afar, and God's Attendant was dragged straight toward him.
"This move is called Strong Hand Skull Splitter! A product from another world!"
As Dior spoke, he clamped one hand around God's Attendant's throat and squeezed tight.
Then he slammed it to the ground. Yellow light flared again around his fist, and he aimed at God's Attendant's head—one punch! Two punches! Each one more vicious than the last!
God's Attendant felt as if its skull was about to burst. It had never imagined Dior could unleash such terrifying physical power.
Nearby, Roger watched carefully.
He didn't know what had happened to Dior, but he knew the moves Dior was using had to come from somewhere significant—he just didn't know their origin.
He still knew far too little about the outside world. In terms of information, he was already at a disadvantage.
Against Dior, information was the key factor. If what you knew was less than your opponent, how could you fight?
But Roger wasn't going to admit defeat.
Even though Dior had God's Attendant pinned down, Roger didn't just sit there and wait to die.
He hurled the scythe in his hand, trying to seize the chance and strike Dior.
But it was never going to be that easy. The instant [The World] saw its master about to be attacked, it flashed in front of Dior and punched the scythe away.
Yet because of that, Dior's attention split—and God's Attendant seized the opening to break free.
But Dior didn't look strained at all. Instead, he wore an even more wicked smile.
"Perfect," he said. "The next move is called Deliberate Bombardment Punch!"
As he spoke, he suddenly took a stance to gather power.
And in front of him, barriers appeared out of nowhere, enclosing everyone inside.
God's Attendant didn't know what it was, so it moved to the center—only to be perfectly struck by Dior's punch. Pain tore through its entire body, and it finally collapsed to the ground.
Most Stands are linked to their users—pain included. But God's Attendant was God's Attendant: an independently existing Stand. So no matter how badly it was injured, Roger felt nothing at all.
Not only that—Roger even found the perfect timing to circle behind Dior. He slit his own wrist, strengthening his arm.
Then, copying Dior's style, he launched a punch straight at Dior's head.
But what Roger didn't expect was that Dior turned around in an instant—then surged forward in a strange posture, suddenly locking onto Roger's body and dragging him up into the air.
"The final move—Astonishing!"
With that, he slammed Roger down hard.
Because Dior had him locked in a clinch in midair, Roger had no way to evade. He could only be smashed viciously into the floor.
But because of it, he also understood Dior's moves now—and he was certain he would never let them work on him a second time.
Still… at this point, it seemed he had no choice but to transform.
Roger glanced toward the window and saw it was open.
If he could jump out from there, he could unleash Titan power.
But first, he needed someone to completely tie Dior down.
"God's Attendant!"
He shouted.
God's Attendant immediately understood. It flashed to Roger's front, unfolded its largest possible shield wall, and once again struck at Dior with that Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva barrage.
But Dior wasn't easy prey.
After his Stand had been hit like that once, how could he let it happen again?
So when a thousand hands came rushing at him, he dodged at once—evading every attacking fist flawlessly, his speed turning unbelievably fast.
Yet what he never could have imagined was that God's Attendant was only feinting. The real goal was for Roger to jump out the window.
And Roger had already launched himself out, cutting open his palm with a blade.
Golden-yellow electricity coursed over him. Outside, people stared up at the capital in shock.
Before countless eyes, a golden bolt of lightning crashed down between heaven and earth.
A Titan that had not appeared for a long time—burst into existence, towering into the world once more!
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