As the sword light faded, Mike's vision gradually returned.
The Supre Abyssal had once again sealed itself, and the heavily wounded Supre Demon God slowly sank back into slumber.
If this scene needed a caption, it would be: "Next human Supre Being, please."
When Nathan had arrived, the Supre Demon God was level 2000.
When Ares ca, the Supre Demon God was level 1999.
By the ti Apollo would face him in the future, the Supre Demon God would be level 1899.
Apollo's calculations from back then were likely correct-it would take at least nine generations of human Supre Beings to completely kill the Supre Demon God.
As the Supre Demon God returned to his slumber, the swordsman turned and walked away. He was the only one to have survived a battle with the Supre Demon God.
That achievent alone was enough to be proud of.
Before Mike, a notification appeared:
[Final Fate's Reversal: Enter a locked-health state. Designate one target as your enemy. All attacks will deal true damage to the locked target. Once all attacks are used or the target dies, the locked-health state ends, and the user... dies.]
So this was the Final Fate's Reversal...
Mike stared at the description, falling silent. Even his breathing slowed.
He had thought that after learning the truth about Nathan's death, he wouldn't feel heartache anymore.
But now, as the brutal reality of history unfolded before him, Mike realized just how much humanity's Supre Beings had sacrificed.
In battle, Nathan had broken through to level 1000 and returned from the Heavenly Realm.
In a similar desperate situation, Ares had used his life as the price to engage in a fight to the death with the Supre Demon God.
After unleashing the Final Fate's Reversal, the Supre Demon God had no choice but to let Ares leave.
The reason was simple:
The more desperate Ares beca, the more energy he unleashed.
Forcing Ares to stay in the Supre Abyssal would only create more problems for the Supre Demon God. It was better to let him go.
After using the Final Fate's Reversal, Ares could no longer pose a mortal threat to the Supre Demon God.
Ares had burned his source, used his unique Supre Mark, and gambled everything he had. He couldn't kill the Supre Demon God, but he could continuously inflict severe damage. Mike noticed sothing else: when Ares left the Supre Abyssal a century ago, the Broken Sword in his hand had disappeared.
Ares had also tried to retrieve Nathan's body, but the Supre Demon God would never allow it.
Clearly, in the Supre Demon God's eyes, Morpheus still had the potential to be resurrected. If Ares had succeeded, the Supre Demon God might as well have buried himself in a coffin before Halloween.
...
Mike broke the silence and asked,
"Bro, every ti you strike now, does it still hit the Supre Demon God?"
Ares nodded. "That's correct."
Then, with a hint of surprise, he added,
"You could tell?"
Ignoring Ares's astonishnt, Mike pressed on,
"So, if that's the case, doesn't that an your battle with the Supre Demon God isn't over? Technically speaking, you haven't really..."
The further Mike spoke, the quieter his voice beca.
But Ares understood what he was implying.
If the battle wasn't over, then Ares couldn't be considered soone who had survived the Supre Demon God.
But Ares was soone who always followed through on his words.
"Don't try to provoke with such a clumsy trick."
Ares chuckled lightly and said casually,
"If I could, who wouldn't want to live a good life?"
Why did humanity's Supre Beings have to challenge the Supre Demon God?
Because if they didn't, people would die.
The mont the Supre Demon God erged, the first thing he'd do was destroy the Tower
of Truth. The second thing? Wipe out humanity.
Humanity was the only race with the potential to kill the Supre Demon God.
The reason was simple:
Ten races had participated in building the Tower of Truth.
The Nine Races were all, to varying degrees, connected to the Supre Demon God, becoming part of him.
As a result, they couldn't kill him.
But humanity, being too weak in ancient tis, did not beco part of the Supre Demon
God.
This lack of involvent made them the only hope of killing the Supre Demon God-and his primary target.
This was a life-and-death struggle with no room for retreat.
Mike understood this. Ares understood this. The Supre Demon God understood this.
After a mont of thought, Mike asked again,
"Ares, how many strikes have you made over the years?"
"Not many."
Ares sighed, his tone tinged with nostalgia.
"In the past century, I've been a bit lazy. After all, I'm not the current Supre Being.
Without the burden on my shoulders, it's easy to slack off..."
Mike didn't believe a single word of it-not even the punctuation marks.
Ares was clearly setting himself up to brag.
Mike tentatively asked,
"How many exactly?"
This number would determine how much longer Ares could live.
"Not many."
Ares thought for a mont, then casually slashed the void with his sword, as if he'd just had
an epiphany.
The strike echoed faintly in the Supre Abyssal, accompanied by a distant wail.
Because of the Final Fate's Reversal, every strike Ares made landed on the Supre Demon
God.
Ares finally gave a number:
"105,472 strikes."
His voice was filled with pride.
By now, Ares had told Mike more than enough.
Logically, Mike should have returned with Ares.
But when Mike turned to look at him, he was shocked to find that they were suddenly far
apart.
A sense of unease crept over Mike.
Sothing wasn't right.
"Second bro, you..." Before Mike could finish his sentence, countless sword energies erupted around him!
Instinctively, Mike raised his shield, protecting all his vital points.
But the sword energies didn't harm him. Instead, they ford an indestructible sword prison
around him!
The scene felt eerily familiar.
When Maxen had encountered Ares, he'd been trapped in a similar way.
Ares explained,
"This sword prison essentially exiles you into this river of ti. If you can learn sothing
from it, maybe you'll find your way out..."
Ares didn't expect Mike to master all the techniques within the sword prison.
In fact, even Maxen wouldn't be able to achieve that. Ares's expression grew serious, his usual playful deanor fading.
"What's about to happen will be dangerous. Anyone could die-, Apollo, no one can
guarantee survival..."
If it were just about dealing with the Supre Demon God, Ares wouldn't be so cautious.
The problem was that Shadow Nine intended to retrieve Nathan's body.
This was sothing the Supre Demon God would never allow.
In other words, both Ares and Apollo would face imnse pressure, with a real risk of falling.
At that point, Apollo might not even be able to protect himself, let alone Mike.
Humanity needed to keep at least one Supre Being alive.
"If you can break out of the sword prison on your own, it'll an you're capable of joining the
fight..."
Ares's voice grew fainter as the white horse disappeared from Mike's sight.
The ssage was clear: the sword prison wouldn't harm Mike-it would simply trap him in
this recording.
How long it would take him to escape depended entirely on himself.
It could be the next second, or it could be 100 years...
If Mike was particularly dense, the Supre Demon God might show up at his doorstep before
The managed to break free.
Inside the sword prison, Mike didn't panic.
Ares's words didn't faze him in the slightest.
If it was a prison, there had to be a way out.
Mike wasn't worried.
He sat cross-legged, holding the Thunderclap Hamr in his hands.
As he lowered his head, the image of Ares's final strike seed to appear before him.
The Final Fate's Reversal.
Using it ca with one good news and one bad news.
Good news: You're locked in a state of invincibility.
Bad news: When the invincibility ends, you die.
For the past century, every strike Ares had made not only hit his enemies but also landed on
the Supre Demon God.
When the 108,001st strike was made, it would mark Ares's death.
Even if Mike didn't want to learn this technique, just seeing it once was enough for him to grasp it.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
"Why did I have to learn such an unlucky move..."
...
In the unseen river of ti, after his battle with the Supre Demon God, Ares dragged his
heavily injured body out of the Supre Abyssal.
This was a scene from a century ago, known only to those who were there.
In the brief mont when Ares's aura weakened, Apollo broke through a certain barrier.
From that mont on, humanity gained a new Supre Being-Apollo.
The black-clad swordsman glanced at Apollo, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Shaking his head, he said seriously,
"My evaluation? You're not as good as ."
Apollo stood there like a block of wood, silent for a mont before nodding.
"True."
He was always honest.
Apollo knew that in a battle against the Supre Demon God, he couldn't achieve what Ares
had.
To be precise, only Ares could do what he did.
The reason was simple:
His na was Ares.
The black-clad swordsman sighed, shaking his head in resignation.
"You're so boring. I hope the next Supre Being is more interesting. Otherwise, I'll have no
one to talk to—it'll be unbearably dull."
With that, he ignored the newly minted Supre Being, didn't even offer congratulations,
and turned to leave.
As he walked, Ares opened a jar of wine, drinking deeply. The liquid was as red as blood.
Not long after Ares left, Apollo raised a finger, and a butterfly landed on it.
Looking at the butterfly, Apollo thought for a mont and said,
"Go find soone interesting." There wasn't much he could do for Ares.
Since he owed him a life, he'd do what little he could.
The butterfly was about to take flight but hesitated, as if sensing sothing.
It stopped.
Apollo withdrew his finger, calculating silently.
"In a hundred years, then."
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