A powerful blue lightning bolt struck down upon the two.
To be more precise, it landed directly on Fenrir, as if the heavens were granting her a surge of "energy" to revitalize her.
Greed felt no concern over the lightning.
In his current state, a little jolt wouldn’t even faze him.
However, the mont it hit Fenrir, his senses were transported back to when she had first bested him. He was overco with the sa harrowing fear, the overwhelming sense of despair regarding their difference in existence, and the insurmountable gap between their strengths.
Fenrir’s body began to transform.
She had previously assud her usual humanoid form—cool, beautiful, and powerful. But now, she returned to her original form.
A majestic gray wolf, towering at about five ters tall, with fur crackling with the sa blue lightning that had struck her monts before. Her paw was nearly the size of Greed’s upper body, let alone the small golden sword he wielded.
Greed recognized that figure; he was more familiar with it than her human form.
Yet the level of power she radiated was entirely different from what he rembered.
"Y-You bitch..." he cursed, trying to mask his confusion and fear with anger. "Have you completely freed yourself from Gleipnir’s hold?! If that’s true, then Zeus won’t let you go!"
[That’s the first thing you say?]
Fenrir’s voice echoed in his mind, causing him to flinch.
[And no, I didn’t.]
That brief mont of hesitation cost him dearly.
In an instant, Fenrir’s paw lunged forward. Greed, who was re inches away, was struck without any chance to defend himself. Three long, bloody gashes were carved into his armor and across his body.
BAM!
Her attack didn’t end there. The claw slash continued eastward, carving deep ravines across the wasteland.
If this attack had occurred while they were still in the capital, it would have devastated at least a quarter of the city instantly, resulting in tens of thousands of casualties. This was precisely why Fenrir had refrained from fighting back earlier.
She allowed Greed to strike her while they were in the sky, aiming to minimize damage to the surrounding area.
But now that they were far from the capital, there was no need for such considerations.
[Here’s another one!]
Before Greed could regain his composure, another claw ca crashing down.
This ti, he managed to react in ti. He raised his golden sword, bracing himself for the impending impact. A golden aura enveloped him, providing so protection against what was about to co; however, it wasn’t enough.
"AAAAAGH!"
He groaned under the imnse pressure of Fenrir’s paw pressing down on his sword.
The ground beneath him shattered, cracking as if he were a stake being driven into the earth.
"BAH!"
With all his might, he sohow managed to deflect her attack. The paw landed beside him, creating a deep ditch and sending rocks and dirt flying.
This act cost him dearly, draining his energy almost instantly.
Yet, he didn’t miss his chance to counterattack.
With Fenrir’s paw still on the ground, Greed swiftly swung his blade, targeting the trapped leg, intent on severing it completely. He cut through the air with a high-pitched whistle.
The air itself seed to part as the surrounding space trembled in response to his sword’s approach.
Then, it struck Fenrir’s leg.
TANG!
However, it didn’t have any effect.
The sword rely rebounded, as if it had collided with a solid block of tal rather than fur.
Greed’s eyes widened. Though he witnessed the event clearly, his mind struggled to comprehend what had just occurred. His blade, after all, was no ordinary weapon. It was forged from the grudges of a million souls!
A blade capable of cutting through anything, while simultaneously applying curses!
The other blade was similar, possessing a curse that ensured the wounds it inflicted would never stop bleeding... but it had been "devoured" by Fenrir, leaving it lost forever.
Just as Greed was reeling from shock, Fenrir’s voice thundered down at him.
[Sorry, but an attack that weak wouldn’t work on anymore.]
At the sa ti, a giant maw ca crashing down, aiming to bite off a part of his body.
Greed’s sword still rang from the rebound, leaving his hand numb for a mont. He realized he couldn’t block the attack in ti!
"UGH!"
All he could do was bend his body out of the way.
It wasn’t enough to ensure his complete safety; however, he managed to reduce the damage.
Once again, Fenrir "devoured" the right half of his body.
But this ti, unlike before, the right half was his spirit body materialized—in short, his "real" body. Losing that ant...
Greed leaped back, trying to gain distance after sustaining the damage.
However, it was his spirit body that had been devoured this ti. The damage was not sothing he could simply ignore, unlike when his physical body was hard. He felt his maximum energy plumt, completely halved.
Even worse, there were no signs of recovery at all.
The injury to his spirit body couldn’t "bleed"; however, it still leaked his essence slowly, like a bucket with a hole in the bottom. In short, the longer this situation continues, the weaker he’d get!
Greed felt cornered.
He was at his peak form, evolving into an Ancient Demon—the strongest he had ever been.
Yet, against Fenrir, his power felt almost pitiful.
His mind ran countless simulations, but in the next few monts, all he could envision was his inevitable demise. No matter what he attempted, his strength alone couldn’t breach Fenrir’s defenses.
The disparity between their strengths was simply too vast.
...
Right...
There was no way he could do it "alone."
[...?]
Fenrir paused, witnessing an unusual occurrence right before her eyes. Behind Greed, a small black dot erged.
At first, it was inconspicuous, but soon it expanded into a large opening—big enough for even Fenrir to slip through with ease, should she choose to in her current state.
"Fuck..."
From across the gigantic black portal, a lazy voice echoed. It sounded youthful, almost like a teenage boy who had yet to hit puberty. Yet, it was a voice that caused Fenrir’s body to stiffen montarily.
"Greed... You do know the price of calling , right?" the voice said.
Gradually, a figure crossed the boundary.
Through the dark film, a young man erged.
He had black hair styled simply, swept back. His eyes were a pale gold, featuring vertical pupils, and he sported a pair of horns that curved toward the sky, reminiscent of Greed’s original form.
The figure, dressed in a tuxedo like a polished gentleman, gazed at Fenrir and paused.
"Oh?"
He gasped.
Then, a slow, deliberate smile spread across his lips.
"Well, look who’s here... My little pet who escaped. Fenrir!"
Fenrir’s expression darkened as she emitted a low growl.
[To think you’d co to rescue this worthless Demon... Wrath.]
She whispered, then added with a low grumble.
[Or should I refer to you as Demon King phistopheles?]
A "big" figure unexpectedly appeared to support Greed.
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