Seated within the ritual circle, Tywin’s body pulsed steadily in resonance with the massive celestial dragon coiled somewhere far off in the surrounding water, each pulse arriving a fraction closer together than the last. The glowing countdown across his chest continued dropping rapidly, ticking down at an observably accelerating pace.
Celestial dragons stood as truly unique beings within this world, creatures the planet itself acknowledged the moment they were born, sending waves of heavenly luck cascading toward wherever they emerged, a phenomenon so rare that most scholars debated whether it happened even once in a century.
As a result, they ranked among the most desperately sought-after creatures imaginable. Forget kings and men holding considerable status. Only true gods carried the actual privilege of controlling one directly.
Understanding that alone explained Bark’s desperation in pursuing this particular beast, especially seeing it drift so close to his own shores unexpectedly, an opportunity that likely wouldn’t repeat itself for generations if this one slipped away.
He’d even risked offending Karth, a notoriously volatile god, entirely for the chance at claiming it.
But if it worked, it would be worth every ounce of that risk.
"All I have to do is stay in the circle. That’s all. That’s all."
Feeling a wave of weakness settle over him, Tywin muttered the words under his breath, gripping his sword tightly enough that his knuckles paled, sweat beading along his temple despite the cold sea wind cutting across the island.
Bark had promised him everything spanning both heaven and earth, but what Tywin genuinely wanted more than anything else was that Demi-God slot specifically, the chance to finally step free from the endless obligations tied to the royal family’s expectations, expectations he’d spent his entire life quietly suffocating beneath.
For that particular freedom, he was willing to do whatever Bark asked of him.
Of course, none of this would come easily.
—Woosh
From the surrounding treeline, a flying shadow cut sharply through the canopy, circling steadily around Tywin’s position at the center of the ritual before gradually stabilizing overhead.
Just above the trees, a young man appeared mounted atop a mind dragon, his crossbow already cocked and aimed directly toward Tywin’s exposed position, the storm-forged weapon crackling faintly with contained energy along its frame.
He didn’t wait for any response before releasing two rapid bolts of crackling lightning straight toward him.
"Hmp!!"
Tywin caught sight of the incoming bolts and threw his hand up sharply, blocking both in quick succession without much visible effort.
He was, after all, a tier 5 summoner, sitting a full two tiers above Ethan in raw power. Ethan, however, had no intention of stopping at just two shots.
As the mind dragon coiled tighter overhead, circling Tywin’s position, Ethan continued firing steadily, each bolt aimed carefully to force Tywin’s hand into repeated, tiring reactions.
[Storm Caller: The longer you actively use this crossbow, storms will gradually gather at your location, boosting the strength of each bolt significantly. Flaw: This storm may attack indiscriminately.]
With each successive strike, the sky overhead darkened further, thick black clouds concentrating steadily above them as flashes of lightning began churning violently through the gathering storm, thunder rolling low across the island as if the sky itself had grown restless.
Before the storm could fully attract a natural lightning strike of its own, Ethan leapt down from the mind dragon’s back, landing a short distance from Tywin’s fixed position.
Given the nature of the ritual binding him, it appeared Tywin genuinely couldn’t step outside the boundaries of the relatively small circle drawn beneath him.
That particular limitation suited Tyrant Blade’s capabilities perfectly.
Ethan settled into the first stance of the Judgment style, his grip tightening around the blade held firmly in his hand.
Shing
With a sudden flash of light cutting through the surrounding darkness, he surged forward, blade already descending toward Tywin. There wasn’t enough room within the circle for Tywin to properly dodge, so he attempted to block instead.
The strike cut straight through his guard regardless.
"Fucker!!"
The moment the blade connected, the words Tyrant Blade surfaced clearly in Tywin’s mind, recognition and alarm flashing simultaneously across his expression.
"That father of mine has always been such a bitch. Sending his little dog squad after me, and why? Because he didn’t have the balls to finish the job himself."
Tywin cursed bitterly, feeling a creeping numbness from the tribulation force spreading steadily through his arm.
This particular sensation felt distinctly different from anything he’d encountered before, though before he could fully process it, Ethan moved again, flashing through the darkness and landing another series of rapid strikes across Tywin’s body.
No matter how desperately he tried to dodge, Ethan’s blade consistently found its mark. And though any single strike alone barely registered against someone of Tywin’s tier, the cumulative effect of Tyrant force compounded rapidly, the strength behind each successive hit multiplying several times over with every connection, each impact landing harder than the last until the pattern became impossible to ignore.
Before Tywin fully registered what was happening, the strikes had grown lethal enough that one nearly severed his entire arm at the shoulder.
"You little..."
For the first time throughout this entire confrontation, Tywin genuinely felt himself at a disadvantage. Tyrant Blade users carried a fearsome reputation on their own, but this particular sensation of dread crawling through him felt like something else entirely.
’Can’t let him get inside my head.’
Tywin steadied himself internally, summoning a massive white dragon covered in shimmering silver scales that crossed the circle’s boundary instantly, releasing a vicious roar directly toward Ethan.
But watching the dragon materialize, Ethan felt no trace of fear whatsoever.
"Here we go."
He tightened his grip around his sword, turning slightly as a massive figure, easily eight feet tall and fully clad in armor, materialized beside him, a holy sword resting steadily at his hip.
This was exactly what Ethan had wanted from the very beginning, and now that Arthur had finally arrived, the real fight could truly start.
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