"Because I am not Johan Von Matilda even though I have his mories... I am still just Jas!" Jas said dreamily, pushing himself up from the ground, cleaning the crimson blood off his lips.
Johan’s lips curled upwards, the most evil grin a man could possibly give manifested on his face. "So you are after all... just my weakness."
Jas leaped tens of ters high into the air, twisting his body sideways while extending and aiming his left leg towards Johan’s head—closed the distance in just a second.
But... Johan just moved his neck sideways, the kick missing his face entirely, making Jaand he s crash into the black sand.
’He doesn’t even know any of my spells...’ Johan’s grin widened, then he raised a single finger.
"[Fla Storm]," Johan said simply, and in a single mont, ten massive tornadoes made entirely of dark red flas flickered into existence, rushing toward Jas, who was still trying to get up.
The tornadoes instantly closed in, making Jas run at the full speed of a stage-zero sorcerer. But Johan just had to move his finger again, and the tornadoes imdiately caught up to Jas.
Jas’ T-shirt caught fire at the back, making him throw it away in panic, avoiding the firestorm by just an inch. His skinny back was revealed, evoking a kind of nostalgia in Johan—but it only made him increase the tornadoes’ speed.
Jas tried to kick one of them with all his strength, and instantly, it disappeared. The speed of the kick dispersed the flas, breaking the gathered energy.
With that discovery, he moved swiftly, dispersing every last storm chasing him using pure strength and speed—a grin appearing on his face. Maybe he still had hope.
But just as Jas was sighing, satisfied with his work, his entire body twisted at a 180-degree angle, launching him like a cannonball across the infinite sand.
He fanatically looked for the source and... found it. Johan had kicked him directly in the stomach, and his body bent to its will like cloth.
Jas desperately tried to stop himself, but the kick’s force was too much. He braced himself for the landing.
Giant, twelve-foot wings pushed out of Johan’s wide back, and with a single flap, he closed the distance between himself and the launched Jas. He appeared beside him, catching him mid-air without even touching him—just placing his hand above Jas’ twisted body, making it float without effort by manipulating gravity.
Jas, without wasting a second, kicked at Johan’s face with all his strength, laughing maniacally as his leg closed in—just a few inches from Johan’s head.
He had won! He had caught Johan off guard! It would definitely make his head separate from his body.
But... it just froze.
"[Reflect]"
And in the next second, Jas’ leg twisted upwards, tearing away from the knee, flying at a terrifying speed—soon becoming completely invisible.
"AHhh!! It hurts!! Make the pain stop!! Heal !" Jas scread, still floating in midair, his body entirely suspended by Johan increasing the gravitational force on his palm. Johan stood straight, staring at Jas like he was an insect.
Suddenly, Johan’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw Jas’ broken leg desperately trying to stitch itself back. If left alone, Johan was certain it would fully regenerate.
’He even has God Tree’s DNA? But shouldn’t that be impossible for a trial in a dungeon to achieve? Even for the legendary Fear of Asura, this is a bit of a stretch.’ Johan scratched his chin, not fully comprehending what was happening.
He obviously believed this Jas was just one of his worst fears—combined with solitude—made by the trial to break him.
"Ahhh! It hurts! It feels weird! Sothing is happening to my leg!!" Jas cried harder, tears and snot covering his face entirely.
Of course, God Tree’s regeneration hurt like hell, and Johan was sure that if he weren’t "Johan," he would’ve cried exactly the sa way. In his past life, he was even scared of injections.
Johan stared coldly at Jas’ miserable face, then turned the gravity holding him from positive to negative. Instantly, Jas smashed into the sand, breaking each of his ribs with a single move.
’No... it’s slower. It’s just an imitation of mine. I could’ve regrown the leg by now... and my bones shouldn’t have broken with just this much force.’ Johan stared thoughtfully at the barely breathing Jas, not even considering him for a single second.
It wasn’t enough. For what Jas had put him through, this was nowhere close to enough.
Johan moved his leg over Jas’ chest, pressing his foot harshly on the broken ribs, staring emotionlessly into the brown pupils filled with tears and pleading.
"Well, well, well, look how the tables have turned. Just a century ago, I was the one begging you to stop." Johan crouched, leaning closer to Jas’ face... both his feet planted firmly on Jas’ broken ribs.
Johan pulled out a beautiful dagger with flowery patterns from his coat’s inner pocket—the sa one given at the beginning of the trial.
The silver blade shone brightly under the dark purple sky. The sa dagger Jas had held for so many years now felt like the scariest thing in the world in Johan’s hands.
Johan stood up—still on Jas’ body—then walked off in the direction of Jas’ head, also stepping on his face, rubbing his foot harshly in the process. His expression looked like he was just taking a casual stroll.
After Johan stepped off Jas’ body, Jas tried to stand but failed, falling back again. Only his neck was able to move due to the heavy internal injuries.
Suddenly, so sand entered his eyes from the right side, and he instantly turned—only to see... the sa frightening silver blade of the dagger.
"Kill yourself... Jas," Johan said softly, staring at the purple sky with eyes that revealed no emotion.
Jas’ pupils dilated to the limit, clearly understanding what Johan was trying to do.
"N-No, please, no! I will do anything for you, but not this, please, I beg you..." His face lost all color, his body trembling with horror at Johan—who didn’t even seem to be listening.
"AHhh!!"
Suddenly, Jas felt a sharp pain in his left arm. His body writhed in agony. He frantically turned to check—only to find... nothing.
His eyes widened, his breathing ragged as he slowly raised his neck to see Johan’s face.
Johan’s eyes bulged to the limit, brows pulled high as if yanked by strings, and his mouth twisted into a disgusted downward grimace, full of disappointnt.
It looked terrifying—but what was even more terrifying was what Johan held in his left hand: an arm, raised right next to his face.
While maintaining eye contact with the trembling Jas, Johan turned to look at the severed arm, then back at Jas. He repeated this motion three more tis.
"Kill yourself, or I will make you eat your arm. And not only this, but your fingers, hands, feet, legs, organs... then wait for you to regenerate them... and do it all over again."
"After all... we have all the ti in the world." Even with that terrifying face, Johan spoke in a warm voice, as if greeting soone on their birthday.
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