When the dust finally settled, Arion was the only one left standing.
Bailey, Willem, Anthony, Batuul, the three elite assassins from Eskus, and several gods from the Hall of Gods were either dead or gravely injured.
Willem’s body had been blasted into countless pieces. Each fragment wriggled on the ground as it struggled to piece together. Batuul fared even worse. He was utterly obliterated, leaving no trace behind, not even ashes.
On the contrary, Bailey and the three Eskus assassins had both their arms severed and were gravely wounded.
Though Anthony’s limbs were still intact, his crushed internal organs left him coughing up blood. The backlash from the demonic blade had also taken a devastating toll on his body.
He now appeared decades older, his face gaunt and hollow, his hair gray.
His frail frame made him look like a man standing at death’s door.
“H-How is this possible? No… this can’t be happening!” Bailey’s expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief as he stared at the carnage- the severed limbs and mangled bodies littering the ground.
The people who lay there weren’t just any fighters-they were the top martial artists from around the globe. Each one alone could dominate entire battlefields with ease.
But never in Bailey’s wildest dreams did he imagine that these elite fighters would be unable to withstand even a single strike from Arion’s blade. Or rather, Arion’s strength had far surpassed anything they could have prepared for.
They had fought tooth and nail for hours and used their ultimate techniques, yet all they managed to kill was a Papercraft Clone. When the real Arion entered the fray, they didn’t even have the strength to defend themselves.
The difference in strength was absolute -Arion was in a league of his own. Their ambush that day was nothing short of walking straight into a lion’s den.
“I’ve always tried to get along with others and never look for trouble. But bastards like you had the nerve to attack Sacred Wrym Summit. Tell me, who the hell gave you the guts to do that?” Arion’s voice, sharp and commanding, echoed as he hovered above them.
The sheer pressure of his presence was so overwhelming that Bailey and the few survivors could barely catch their breath.
The three Eskus elite assassins were paralyzed with fear. Gritting their teeth against the pain, they dropped to their knees and begged for mercy. They finally grasped the full terror of facing Dragonmarsh’s strongest man.
To them, Arion wasn’t just a man. He was like a god-powerful, fearsome, and untouchable. With no other option, they could only plead for their lives.
“Sage Foyer, I was deceived and made a foolish mistake in offending Sacred Wrym Summit. Please have mercy and forgive me. I’ll give up everything I have to make amends,” Anthony begged, dropping to his knees with his head down in complete submission. His tone was the most sincere he could muster.
He knew his fate lay entirely in Arion’s hands. At that point, pride and honor were irrelevant-survival was all that mattered. He would do anything to stay alive.
“Amends?” Arion scoffed coldly. “Your people from Kimboku have wreaked havoc in Dragonmarsh time and time again. If I let you go, how could I ever face the souls of the fallen because of you?”
“Sage Foyer, there’s a saying in Dragonmarsh that said, ‘Admitting a mistake is the first step toward redemption.’ I know I was wrong. If you spare my life, I swear I’ll never oppose your nation again. Please have mercy.”
In an act of desperation, Anthony smashed his forehead against the ground. Blood trickled down his face.
“It’s not that you regret your action- you just know you’re about to die,” Arion said coldly. “But don’t worry, I forgive you. Just try not to mess up next time.”
Without hesitation, he raised his hand and swung his sword. A flash of white sword light shot out in an instant.
“Sage Foyer, please spare me!” Anthony turned pale with fear.
Before he could react, the sword light pierced through him. His body exploded in a crimson mist, leaving nothing behind.
“Now, it’s your turn,” Arion said, his gaze shifting to the others.
The three Eskus assassins were so terrified they wet themselves. They dropped to their knees and trembled. In their broken Dragonmarsh speech, one could barely make out the words “spare me”.
Bailey, however, quickly regained his composure after a brief moment of panic. Perhaps he had resigned himself to fate. “Go ahead. Put me out of my misery.” He closed his eyes as if ready to face death.
“You’ve got some backbone, so I’ll leave your body intact.” Arion raised his hand and pointed at him. A beam of light shot out like a bullet and pierced Bailey’s forehead.
Bailey shuddered before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.
Then, Arion swiftly decapitated the last three Eskus assassins, and they died without a chance to blink.
All of the Hall of Gods’ elite fighters were wiped out. Their ambush had been a complete failure.
