Chapter 96

Bin, lashed by multiple lightning strikes from the void, danced in the wind, his slender hair whipping around him. Through the fluttering strands, a stark white light flickered, bursting forth and vanishing in a heartbeat, repeating over and over. Weak, thin hair had become voluminous, curly locks.

Across from Bin, Maltiel wore a smile so chilling, it raised goosebumps across your soul, an insidious expression of pure malice.

They were separated by about fifty meters. A distance Maltiel could have closed in a single stride if he’d wanted, but the cautious demon saw no reason to.

He couldn’t know how far Bin’s ‘overload’ zone extended.

The boy’s reflexes now far surpassed those of any living thing. No matter how quickly Maltiel threw a punch, it would only graze his skin; it wouldn’t be a fatal blow.

Of course, Maltiel’s poison could seep into Bin’s open wounds, dealing some meaningful damage…

‘No time.’

Two minutes had already passed since the fight began.

The Sword Saint, witnessing the lightning-streaked sky, would be racing in their direction.

It wouldn’t be surprising if Maltiel’s neck were impaled by a chilling blade at any moment.

‘All I need is the finishing blow.’

Time was on Bin’s side.

The longer the fight dragged on, the more certain Maltiel’s defeat became. What this monster needed now was a bold, dangerous gamble—something to end it all at once.

“This is my last gamble, whelp.”

Having made his calculations, Maltiel began to gather a jet-black light at his fingertips. There was no reason, no time, to hoard the thirty percent of his demonic power that remained.

The boy’s eyes, fluttering downward toward the earth, flashed blue for a moment. Against the black ray that Maltiel was about to unleash, the boy was preparing to unleash another cataclysmic bolt of lightning.

As if two tanks faced each other on a sheet of thin ice, cannons aligned, an uneasy and terribly precarious standoff unfolded.

“Biiiiiin!”

That fleeting stalemate was pierced by the desperate cry of an orc.

Maltiel, reflexively, turned his gaze towards the direction of the voice.

‘A bothersome artifact.’

In that sliver of a moment, Maltiel’s thoughts were thrown into disarray.

Maltiel still did not know the exact effects imbued within Rex’s artifact, the recoil it possessed, or the limitations it held.

The monster was forced to confront the utterly unknown once more.

A flicker of disquiet rippled through his eyes.

“Reach.”

The boy seized the fleeting opening the monster revealed while facing the unknown.

His robe billowed behind his reaching arm. A small jolt of electricity touched Maltiel’s chest first, and in the next instant, following that current, a concentrated beam of billions of volts of pure light lashed out like an arrow.

A flash of light descended upon the battlefield.

‘Sharp.’

Maltiel was an overlord who had survived against countless types of enemies for the past thirty years. Among those he had faced were seasoned veterans hardened by countless battles, monsters of abnormal caliber that defied common sense, and promising prodigies like the white-haired boy before him who had suddenly risen to prominence.

‘He possesses many physical flaws, but his judgment is not lacking. His thoughts process in an instant, and his decisions are always made in a flash.’

Bin had grown immeasurably stronger compared to when they first met. Starting with summoning spirits and borrowing their power, the potency and refinement of his already threatening lightning magic had risen astronomically. Above all, he had even demonstrated the creativity to compensate for his weaknesses, however imperfectly, by manipulating ‘bio-electricity.’

Considering his age and the current trajectory of his growth, it was clear that within three years… no, within two years at the fastest, he would become a threat on par with a Sword Saint.

The boy was growing at a terrifying pace every moment.

Even in this moment, in the thick of battle.

‘Thus, I believed you wouldn’t miss this opening.’

The slight tremor in Maltiel’s gaze, it was a fluctuation that only a skilled individual could perceive.

For ordinary soldiers, even those with some talent, it would vanish before they could register it, before they could even process it as ‘an opening.’ A small, faint tremor.

‘Right now, you’re likely in a heightened state. The enemy’s movements appear clearer than usual, even the faintest tremors feel like gaping vulnerabilities.’

Maltiel began to run directly toward the light erupting from the boy’s hand.

‘It’s not your fault. All geniuses fall prey to such arrogance at least once. The sense of accomplishment from reaching a higher plane grants a feeling of omnipotence, even if only momentarily, as if one has grasped the very principles of the universe.’

Maltiel’s upper body was pierced by the immense light.

Due to the intense heat emitted by the light, the blood within his arms and wings vaporized instantly. Blood vessels expanded, followed by small explosions erupting from all over his body. Flesh and muscle, blasted to pieces, immediately turned to black dust upon contact with the lightning’s tendrils.

‘The reason for your defeat is singular. The irreconcilable difference between your experience and mine.’

Even as the overwhelming flash ravaged Maltiel’s torso and head, his lower body didn’t cease its advance.

That grotesque leg, traversing the fifty meters in a fleeting instant less than a second, stood poised to strike the boy’s flank even before the flash faded from the battlefield.

New flesh and muscle sprouted from the leg in an instant.

Maltiel prioritized the regeneration of his right arm and chest, and at the tip of his thin, unclean fingers, black light coalesced.

“The end.”

With half a face, Maltiel smiled unpleasantly.

Belated thunder echoed. It came from behind Maltiel.

* * *

Approximately half a second before Bean unleashed a massive amount of lightning.

Rex, the Orc with a gaping hole in his stomach and flesh rotting away, held a warhorn and roared loudly.

It was undeniably strange.

There were far better forms of surprise than foolishly shouting and advertising, ‘I’m going in for support now.’

Rex was a veteran, hardened by the battlefield. Not a man to succumb to weak self-pity and commit such a fundamental error.

“Veeeeeeen!”

Therefore, it was reasonable to surmise that his desperate, booming cry held a hidden meaning.

Rattle, rattle!

From Rex’s prosthetic arm, corroded screws and components spilled like wheat from a riddled basket, cascading down.

Rex’s cry concealed two intentions.

The first was to sow confusion among the enemy.

Instead of sounding the horn, he shouted his name, drawing attention. If the foe was a Maltiel-type, who planned and judged everything rationally and meticulously, they might deduce from his foolish act that ‘he is in a situation where he cannot summon the Bone Legion’ or some such thing.

If he could summon the Bone Legion, he would have blown the horn; he wouldn’t be doing something so idiotic as holding it in his hand and shouting his name aloud.

Beeeeee–

A massive ringing sound arrived in Rex’s ears before he even started running toward Maltiel. Following that, light exploded from the boy’s fingertips, and that light utterly incinerated Maltiel’s upper body, leaving not even a trace.

An immense flash engulfed his eyes. Any living creature would instinctively squint and turn away, but Rex did not.

Rex watched, eyes wide open, as Maltiel didn’t flee from the light, but charged directly into it.

The second reason was to calm the young and talented mage, who was currently fired up by the heat of battle.

Since Vin had been appointed general, Rex had never called him by any title other than ‘General.’ To call the boy by his given name, instead of his usual title, in this precarious moment when every second was precious, was not without its reason.

‘Observe the situation calmly. We have the advantage.’

In Rex’s view, Vin seemed to have entered a state bordering on the sublime, for some reason or another. He was unleashing vast currents of electricity – enough to incinerate even the body of an Archlord in a single instant – as freely as if they were his own limbs, and pressing Maltiel, even driving him to the very brink of death.

However, that opportunity was thwarted by the sacrifice of High Lord Samael, and Maltiel had fully recovered his strength.

It was not surprising that Vin, whose combat experience was not so extensive, was feeling impatient in this situation.

Thus, there was need to soothe the fevered mind of the young prodigy.

“It ends.”

From Maltiel’s legs, bathed head-on in that stark white light, flesh and bone began to swell. They formed ebony arms and a half-formed face, and without hesitation, Maltiel gathered the pitch-black light into his hands.

Whether his shout reached the boy, he couldn’t know. All Rex could do was trust his general and raise the war horn to his lips.

Kugung—!

The war horn’s vibration, riding the air like a delayed thunderclap’s shadow, stretched toward the boy and Maltiel’s location.

Beneath Maltiel’s feet, a faint fissure rippled. Countless skeletal fingers crawled up his body.

The overlord of logic and reason belatedly noticed the sudden upheaval.

The pitch-black light remained gathered in the overlord’s hands.

‘He pretended he couldn’t use the war horn, or did the conditions for its use only now meet? It matters not.’

There was no reason for Maltiel to halt his attack.

Though he might be momentarily bound by the bones erupting from beneath him, his fingertips were surely aimed at the boy’s chest, and soon the magic would explode.

If only the boy would die, he cared little for his own life.

‘Instead of ensnaring my ankles, you should have formed a shield.’

Maltiel, scoffing inwardly, unleashed the magic from his fingertips without regard.

A light akin to darkness blanketed the battlefield.