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"The old master... What is this?!"

The Priest’s voice trembled as he stumbled backward, staring in horror at the shifting landscape around him. His hands clenched tightly, his body stiff with fear as he turned toward Susanoo, desperately seeking answers.

The princess stood beside him, equally uneasy. Though she loathed conflict, she had no choice but to follow. Their fates were now tied to this battle.

Susanoo’s expression darkened as he examined the surreal environnt. The once-familiar underworld had been erased, replaced by an alien realm dominated by a crimson wasteland. Jagged swords jutted from the ground like the grave markers of fallen warriors, stretching endlessly into the distance. Above them, the sky burned in shades of red and orange, with massive gears turning ominously.

"A Separate Dinsion," Susanoo muttered, his tone carrying a rare hint of unease. Slowly, he lifted off the ground, rising to et Blake, who hovered above with an almost casual air of dominance.

"So, this is the trick behind your confidence. A domain separate from the world itself," Susanoo continued, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed his wariness. "The Underworld has been our sanctuary for centuries. A Godslayer shouldn’t be capable of creating such a space. Your authority doesn’t allow for dinsional manipulation, yet here we are."

Blake remained unmoved, the Excalibur in his grip gleaming with a nacing brilliance. He regarded Susanoo with cold amusent before speaking in a asured tone.

"That underworld of yours was ant to be your stronghold, a place where you held the advantage. But in here? You’re nothing but a rat trapped in a cage."

His smirk deepened. "And there’s no way out."

"You...!"

The Priest’s face turned pale, his earlier confidence crumbling. Their strategy had hinged on drawing the battle into the Underworld, wearing Blake down with environntal advantages and divine reinforcents. But within monts, Blake had shattered that plan, flipping the battlefield to one that favored only him.

The princess swallowed hard, looking at the young man before her. His power was monstrous, but his composure was even more terrifying. For soone so young to display such absolute confidence—it was beyond belief.

Susanoo clenched his fists, his divine aura crackling to life like a raging storm. "Priest, Princess. We have no choice. Attack together. If we don’t kill him now, we’ll never leave this place."

The Priest nodded grimly. A golden aura surged from his body, his prayer beads rotating rapidly as they gathered divine energy. anwhile, the princess released a soft sigh and activated her own divine power. A gentle yet imnse force rippled outward, reinforcing Susanoo with an enhancent far beyond normal blessings.

Blake didn’t react. He simply hovered above them, expression unreadable.

"Now!" Susanoo roared.

In an instant, a massive tornado materialized in front of Susanoo, its diater stretching hundreds of ters. The howling winds ripped through the crimson wasteland, tearing up swords and sending them spiraling into the sky. The sheer force distorted space itself, warping the very air.

Simultaneously, the Priest’s golden light condensed high above, forming an enormous spectral hand. It crackled with divine energy, descending like the judgnt of heaven itself, aiming to crush Blake where he stood.

"Disappointing."

Blake sighed, shaking his head. His grip on Excalibur tightened. A mont later, an unseen force exploded from his body. A whirlwind of black and blue energy surged around him, taking shape—forming into a monstrous dragon, its scales shimring with divine power.

The dragon let out a bone-shaking roar before launching itself forward, eting Susanoo’s storm head-on.

BOOM!

The collision shattered the battlefield. The tornado and the dragon clashed in a violent struggle, their opposing forces shaking the very foundation of the Reality Marble. The storm howled, but cracks began to form within it.

Susanoo’s eyes widened. He’s overpowering ?!

Wind was his domain, his ultimate authority. Even among gods, his storms were unmatched. And yet, before his eyes, his greatest weapon was being torn apart.

"This is impossible!"

The realization struck him like a hamr. He had even received the princess’s divine enhancent, yet Blake’s storm was consuming his own, devouring it bit by bit.

"Sir! While he’s distracted with you, my attack will land! We still have a chance!" the Priest shouted, his voice crackling through the sound of the raging battlefield.

Susanoo snapped out of his shock, shifting his gaze upward. The golden hand of divine punishnt was seconds from crashing down on Blake.

Yes, they could still win!

Then—

CRACK.

With a single swing of Excalibur, Blake released a thin, invisible slash.

The golden hand shattered into countless fragnts, dispersing into the void like a dream that had never existed.

The Priest’s face went deathly white.

"Too weak," Blake murmured, almost disappointed. He raised his hand.

The storm dragon, now fully unleashed, surged forward with renewed ferocity. In re seconds, it consud what remained of Susanoo’s dying tornado.

The god could do nothing but watch in horror as his ultimate storm was erased from existence.

"No...!"

He barely had ti to react before the remnants of the dragon surged toward them, howling like an apocalyptic windstorm. Susanoo gritted his teeth, swinging the Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi with desperate force, releasing a black energy slash to intercept the attack.

For a mont, the two forces clashed. Then—

Both vanished.

Silence fell over the battlefield.

Susanoo gasped for breath, his body drenched in sweat. The Priest was frozen, his confidence crushed. The princess’s expression was unreadable, a complex mix of awe and despair.

But before any of them could process what had just happened, the air around them shimred.

The next sight made their blood run cold.

Thousands—no, tens of thousands—of swords floated in the air, suspended like stars in the night sky. Each blade radiated an aura of overwhelming power, humming with divine and mystical energy.

The sheer number of weapons surrounding them sent shivers down their spines.

Blake extended a hand. The swords trembled, responding to his will.

"You wanted to fight?" His voice was calm, eerily composed.

"Then try surviving this."

With a flick of his wrist—

The swords rained down like a divine judgnt, blotting out the sky.

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