The crimson light exploded, shadows intertwining in a mesmerizing spectacle, as if the entire world before them had begun to fracture and collapse.
At that moment, Oswell stood firm, yet in an instant, his figure vanished like a phantom.
"It's not over yet!!"
His voice, deep and weighty, carried a chilling coldness that sent shivers through the air.
Hearing this, Harribel, lying on the ground, clenched her teeth, determination flashing in her eyes. She endured the searing pain ravaging her body and struggled to stand.
Suddenly, a thunderous crash rang out!
The greatsword and lance clashed fiercely once more, sparks scattering in all directions.
Oswell swiftly sidestepped and lashed out with a vicious whip kick against the greatsword, forcing Harribel to stumble forward involuntarily.
His head snapped up, jet-black hair whipping through the wind like a cascading waterfall, scattering fine white grains of sand. His eyes were fierce, brimming with unshakable dominance, as if the entire battlefield was under his control.
He let out a quiet sigh.
"What a pity, Harribel. I had no desire to take your life, but His Majesty has given the order... I have no choice."
With those words, the Vasto Lorde, ruler of the Hollows, took a resolute step forward.
The wind howled, whipping around him and sending his vast black cloak billowing like the wings of an ancient dragon. His figure blurred as he shot through the air, ascending in an instant.
The lance in his grip gleamed coldly, its tip bursting forth with a menacing black-red glow, like the breath of a raging fire dragon.
Reiatsu surged outward at an astonishing speed, forming a towering pillar of light that coiled around the lance before erupting with terrifying force.
"—Noble and pure knight, may your next life be spared from this dark and desolate land!"
Oswell's long black hair flowed wildly in the wind, his voice deep and commanding, carrying an indescribable sense of majesty and power.
At this moment, he seemed less like a man and more like an untamed, ferocious dragon.
Lance in hand, wrapped in swirling black-red Reiatsu, he lunged forward like a streak of lightning, aiming directly at the throat of the exhausted, barely-standing knight...
This strike carried the force of a raging storm, an unstoppable power driven by absolute conviction!
The world fell into a deathly silence—
Then, in the next instant—
A piercing slash split through the air.
A roaring wave of sword pressure, shaped like a massive crescent moon, tore through the dark night sky. Its sheer force was suffocating, its might unparalleled as it cleaved through several powerful Adjuchas-class Menos in its path!
Where the sword's light swept through, it ripped through space itself, leaving behind a deep, abyssal rift—as if the very sky had been torn in two!
A resounding impact echoed as the flying slash met the lance head-on.
Oswell's seemingly indestructible weapon trembled—then halted completely, unable to advance even an inch further.
The force of the collision sent him hurtling backward, his body skidding across the sand dunes for dozens of meters, carving a deep trench in his wake.
At the same time, cracks spread along the length of his lance, unable to withstand the immense power behind the strike.
The oppressive sword aura dissipated instantly.
The once chaotic, dust-filled battlefield suddenly became crystal clear.
Fine white sand drifted through the air, settling over the surroundings like a translucent veil.
Standing atop the dunes, Oswell remained steady, his dragon-winged cloak billowing in the wind.
His grip tightened around the cracked lance, and a vast, unfathomable pressure radiated from his very being.
His gaze, sharp and ice-cold, locked onto the mysterious figure who had suddenly appeared nearby. His voice rang out, brimming with fury and authority:
"Who are you?! Are you challenging Las Noches, intending to save this woman?!"
A mocking voice responded, laced with disdain:
"Bringing a pack of men to gang up on a defenseless woman—do you really have the nerve to call yourself a knight?"
Oswell's expression stiffened, as if struck in a sore spot.
The surrounding Adjuchas-class Menos froze as well, momentarily stunned, struggling to believe what they had just heard.
Who? That Vasto Lorde over there?
"Lord Oswell, look out!"
The moment the alarmed shouts rang out, a brilliant flash of light streaked through the air. From within the howling winds, a ghostly hand—white and flawless like sculpted jade—shot forward with astonishing speed.
The hand carried an overwhelming force, its sharp, twisted winds shredding the very air around it. With an unstoppable momentum, it reached straight for Oswell's forehead!
Though the strike appeared deceptively simple, it exuded an inescapable, overwhelming pressure, as if the entire world were being crushed beneath its weight!
Oswell's heart pounded violently, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief.
Never had he imagined that anyone other than Baraggan and Szayelaporro could breach his defenses so effortlessly. Even more unthinkable was the sheer speed of his opponent—it was beyond comprehension!
At that moment, Masatsuki Aozaki emerged from the swirling tempest, letting out a cold, disdainful snort.
His movements were elegant and weightless, as if he were an otherworldly being descending upon the mortal realm.
"So, you're the so-called strongest knight under Baraggan?" Masatsuki's voice was ice-cold, laced with an overwhelming aura of dominance. "How disappointing—you're far too weak."
His deep, abyss-like eyes gleamed with a jet-black radiance, dazzling like the brightest star piercing through the dark night sky.
Without hesitation, his right hand morphed into a razor-sharp talon, slashing forward with lightning speed—straight for Oswell's face!
A crushing force surged toward Oswell, an unstoppable power that sent every hair on his body standing on end. It felt as if a violent current of electricity had shot through him.
His eyes widened in terror as he stared at the approaching figure. A wave of unprecedented fear and despair surged through him.
The attack was so deceptively ordinary, yet flawless—he couldn't find a single weakness to exploit!
It was as fierce as an erupting volcano and as swift as a lightning bolt tearing through the sky. It radiated absolute dominance—an unshakable might that could make even gods and ghosts tremble in fear.
The clawed hand seized Oswell's face with an iron grip, its strength as unyielding as forged steel. With effortless ease, Masatsuki lifted him high into the air.
With a violent swing, Oswell was hurled downward like a severed kite, crashing into the earth with devastating force!
Brutal. Simple. Unstoppable.
A thunderous impact resounded, shaking the very ground beneath them...
p@treon com / PinkSnake