A Background Character’s Path to Power Chapter 421: Final Battle [Pre-Finale]

’...It was too easy.’

Amaniel narrowed his eyes behind the white vortex. He turned his gaze toward the stunned Nemo, but his attention remained locked on the frozen crater.

’It’s not over, right?’

He knew the archetype well. Main antagonists like Bane always had a second wind. They always had a hidden trump card or a berserk state waiting for the mont of defeat. Just like those bosses in gas.

Woom.

The next mont, the ground and air trembled.

A massive pillar of black aura erupted from the crater, shattering the ice hamr into a million sparkling dust particles.

’Crap.’

Amaniel cursed inwardly.

’I really jinxed it. He really had a hidden last phase!’

The pillar faded, revealing the figure hovering within.

Bane had changed.

The pale skin was now covered in jagged black markings. Two curved, obsidian horns jutted from his forehead, curling back like a crown of nightmare. The exhaustion from before was gone, replaced by a suffocating, dense pressure.

He didn’t look like a human prince anymore.

He looked like a Demon Lord descending to conquer!

"Haa..."

Amaniel sighed outwardly.

He didn’t wait for Bane to power up further or give a speech.

He reached out his hand and made a crushing motion.

Rumble.

The moisture in the air coalesced instantly. A colossal hand of ice, the size of a building, materialized around Bane.

"Crush."

Amaniel clenched his fist. The giant hand slamd shut with the force of a collapsing glacier.

Boom!

Ice shards rained down.

However, Amaniel didn’t smile. He sensed empty space within his grasp.

Whoosh.

A shadow flickered to his right.

Bane appeared. He was fast. Terrifyingly fast.

Before Amaniel could raise a shield, a fist wrapped in concentrated void slamd into his side.

Bang!

Amaniel slid back a few ters, his ice robes rippling from the impact.

Bane didn’t stop. He unleashed a barrage.

Fists, kicks, blades of darkness, void bombs.

He attacked with the ferocity of a wild beast and the precision of a master martial artist.

Clang! Clang! Boom!

Amaniel parried. He weaved through the storm of attacks, summoning floating ice shields to deflect the heavier blows.

’2:27.’

He glanced at the countdown tir in his peripheral vision while blocking a roundhouse kick that could have shattered steel.

’Two minutes and twenty-six seconds left.’

He felt his aura churning. Normally, casting high-tier moves like the previous Glacial Hand or maintaining this absolute zero domain would have drained him dry in seconds.

However, his Aura Well wasn’t showing any signs of depletion.

’Thank you, master.’

Amaniel chuckled as he confird his theory. When [Virion’s Blessing] and [Glacia Sinfonia] were used together, the blessing acted as an infinite fuel source.

As long as the transformation lasted, he had unlimited aura. He could spam forbidden spells like they were cantrips.

’Still...’

He ducked under a void blade that sliced a mountain peak in the distance.

’I spent too much ti saving Cassandra and dealing with that Blood Marquis.’

Seven minutes.

He had burned seven precious minutes of his ten-minute limit setting the stage.

’Ti to wrap this up.’

’Hmm...’ Amaniel took a deep breath.

The faint amusent in his posture vanished, replaced by the terrifying indifference of an ice monarch.

Bane roared, launching another volley of void spheres that darkened the sky.

But Amaniel didn’t dodge or summon an ice shield this ti.

Instead, he raised his palms, the space around his fingers warping like a heat haze.

[Spatial Reflection Art]!

Woom.

The air in front of him acted like a cosmic mirror. Bane’s void spheres struck the invisible barrier, paused for a fraction of a second, and then shot back with double the velocity.

BOOM!

"Urgh!"

Bane grunted as his own attacks exploded against his chest, knocking him off balance.

He recovered instantly, his demonic eyes glowing with realization. He shifted his stance, intending to switch from ranged bombardnts to unpredictable lee strikes to bypass the reflection.

"Too slow," Amaniel whispered.

He didn’t give the Demon Lord a single millisecond to adapt.

He stepped forward. His figure blurred, splitting into ten, then twenty, then a hundred identical white-robed figures. He adapted and combined the two techniques he obtained from the Legacy of the Mirage Spearman.

[Mirage Thrust Style x Shroud of a Thousand Faces]!

Bane lashed out, destroying five phantoms instantly, but they were rely afterimages.

The real Amaniel was everywhere and nowhere.

He swung his hands, his fingers trailing lines of distorted reality.

[Spatial Severance Art]!

Slash. Slash. Slash.

The air itself beca a blade. Combined with the confusing mirages, the attacks were invisible and unavoidable.

Splurt!

Bane’s right arm was severed clean off the shoulder.

Slice!

His left leg was detached from the knee.

Black blood sprayed into the freezing air like a fountain.

However, Bane didn’t scream, let alone flinch.

Squelch.

Shadows surged from his wounds. Before the severed limbs could even hit the ground, flesh and bone knitted together at a terrifying speed. In a blink, he was whole again.

’Instant Regeneration...’ Amaniel noted coldly. ’How annoying.’

He didn’t stop. He knew that even the strongest regeneration required energy. He just had to burn through it faster than Bane could supply it.

’Let’s see how many tis you can put yourself back together.’

With that, Amaniel unleashed everything.

He didn’t stick to a single style. He beca a calamity of mixed arts.

SCREE!

He fired a [ntal Spike] directly into Bane’s brain, causing the Demon Lord to stumble and take another couple of Spatial Severence Strikes.

Crack!

Simultaneously, he summoned a [Void Spear] and impaled Bane’s chest.

Fwoosh!

He followed up with [Absolute Zero], freezing the regenerating wounds to slow down the healing process.

Fists, kicks, magic, elental, and ntal arts!

Amaniel barraged his opponent with a relentless, suffocating rhythm, turning the seemingly invincible Demon Lord into a punching bag.

anwhile, the unlucky antagonist, punching bag Demon Lord Bane, was drowning in despair.

For the first ti in his life, he felt truly helpless.

...Powerless.

He was a Prince! He was a prodigy! He was supposed to be the predator. The mastermind!

Yet, here he was, being tossed around like a rag doll.

He had never been this humiliated before.

He had never been this enraged.

’Just what is this thing?!’

Swish.

A blade of compressed space sliced past his ear.

He jerked his neck back instinctively.

Splurt!

He saved his head, but the attack tore a gaping hole through his chest, obliterating his heart and lungs.

"GAAAAH!"

Bane scread. Black blood gushed from his mouth.

His regeneration kicked in instantly, shadows stitching the flesh back together, but the pain remained. The agony was driving him mad.

"DAMN IT!"

Bane cursed out loud for the first ti. He swung his claws wildly, hitting nothing but air. He was losing his reason.

A voice echoed in his head. It was Velmort, the mysterious nightmare beast, rged with his soul. Its tone was urgent.

Bane gritted his teeth.

Escape?

Him? Run away from a no-na summoned creature?

It would destroy his pride. It would stain his honor forever.

But... looking at the white nightmare destroying him, he knew the beast was right.

He wanted to escape!

But no! Because he couldn’t!

He tried to activate his teleportation ring. It didn’t work.

He tried to burn a Blood Escape Talisman.

Fizzle.

Nothing happened.

This white nightmare didn’t just freeze the air; it froze the space itself.

It was impossible to teleport with his own power or even with the help of items!

’I can’t!’ Bane replied, panic finally piercing through his rage. ’My relics... they aren’t working!’