Claude.. had barely raised his head, his body barely responding, but he saw what was coming.
He wasn't afraid, he wasn't angry, he wasn't even astonished.
Just… calm. 'I will die as you wanted me to, father…'
He closed his eyes.
He allowed the cold to reach him.
Before the frost reached Claude, fell from the sky.
Valeras fell like a living meteor, but he wasn't just fell.
His aura was energy breaking the laws of frost itself.
He collided with the king's frost.
The two forces met, and reality itself… bent.. to them.
When Valeras' force clashed with the frost, any other man might have frozen the moment the frost touched him, but not him.
He advanced, slowly, very slowly, but he advanced. His skin tore under the lethal cold, yet he continued to walk through the hell.
"Tsk! King of humans..."
Then two giant tanks were behind Valeras, and now was their chance. Their barrels emerged, laser beams shot out, piercing his back. Pain exploded in every nerve of his body. He screamed, feeling his spine crack.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." Claude, on the ground, cursed. He cursed his body, cursed his weakness. He gathered all his maga, leaped toward the first tank, his fist charged, and delivered a punch—the tank bent, flew back, dragging the other with it, and their insides exploded in every direction.
Claude fell again.
Valeras raised his maga, pulled his right hand back, compressed his power in an instant, let it accumulate, then released it all at once.
The frost disappeared, the path between him and the king split.
The king lowered his head at the right moment. The horizontal kick had cut through the air, narrowly missing his skull by millimeters. But... the second kick surged, vertical, driving him into the throne. A tremendous pressure crushed the ancient bones beneath the king.
The king raised two fingers, snapped them—the wind carried Valeras, hurling him into the air.
Ice arrows shot out one after another, their speed terrifying...
He dodged the first, twisted around the second, bent under the third, crushed the fourth with his right foot, caught the fifth with his hand, and used it to shatter the sixth.
The king raised his hand, unleashed a wave of arrows all at once.
Valeras, utilizing the force of reality, pushed himself forward, carving his path.
The king accepted the attack, his hand transforming into an icy shield, taking the blow head-on.
But he spun around him in the air, his feet striking king shoulder, pushing him back. He pulled his hand back, another force gathering...
With his fist, he shattered the frost shield before him...
And he body disappeared for a moment, reappeared, with a kick—his heel embedded in the king's chest, the glass layer shattered, the sound of bones breaking.
Before Valeras could pull his foot back, the king grabbed it. He spun him, then launched him into the sky as if he only wanted to fight from a distance...
Valeras had anticipated it, disappeared.
Then reappeared above the king, shattered the air around him, creating a vacuum in the atmosphere. With a thrust of his palm, the pressure surged like an arrow, splitting toward the king's abdomen, crushing his ribs, bending his body inward like a malleable substance. Then a shockwave erupted from the king's body...
But before he could fall—Valeras was beneath him again.
He grabbed his hair, yanked him back with force, then directed a punch to the jaw, the king spit a storm of air around the fist to crystal.
Valeras then shattered it on king face... and kicked him, sending him crashing to the ground like a shattered old man.
Valeras glimpsed behind the disaster the arrival of the Magins and Gamora, after completing their charge. Now they soared in the sky, advancing rapidly, followed by the charged Zon Gamora for rescue...
Valeras smiled despite everything.
His eyes reflected nothing but certainty.
"O decaying greatness, after all this destruction, crushing you won't be enough. Nothing will be enough, you basterd."
"Oh, human, what is your name?"
Valeras raised an eyebrow. Not the question, but the way it was spoken.
"A man from Zirafin only, don't forget it, Zirafin in your hell."
"Nah but a man like you, I won't forget."
...?
The king smiled.
"Anyway, my name is Demondo. Do you know something, man? We don't play these charged, clownish tricks. True, you possess the power to destroy, but we... we possess authenticity."
Valeras, for a moment, just a moment, heard this speech a thousand times. From other kingdoms, from distant voices, from the shadows of history.
"You... Not just you.. all... the impure blood. You are the true filth of this planet."
Valeras began his steady steps. He didn't care about what was said. He didn't care for any false philosophy. All he saw before him was a corpse that would be erased in seconds.
"And what is your great power, O spiky carpet mass? What makes you authentic?"
The king smiled. "Power? Oh... we grow from hatred, from anger, from revolution."
Valeras laughed, a small, provocative laugh, waving his hand as if the response didn't matter.
"Your hatred is known. All of you perish by it? You declared your end with a group of bastards wretchedness."
The king tilted his head. "My end? Perhaps. But... not his end."
"...His?"
"He is now... filled with hatred. He is now... crying. Not just for me, but because you shattered centuries of history."
Valeras froze. "Wha--what...? Fu--Damn it!!!."
"Move them, Gamoraaaaa!!"
Valeras screamed with all his might, trying to advance despite the pain and exhaustion that had worn him down. After all, only screaming remained for him, hoping his voice would reach...
And in a moment, the lightning struck again.