The situation is worse than anyone could have imagined.

Only Duke Goldsworthy knew this.

When Dagon's arm, which was at least tens of meters long, fell into the ground, and the ensuing shock wave once again damaged the devastated city, as if the actual smoke and dust obscured most of the sky, the glory and sword wielders, who had gradually adapted to the terrifying coercion brought by something beyond human comprehension, in their minds of almost despair, the flame of hope was rekindled, and the desire for victory was born.

Although with their eyesight, not to mention the specific situation and the specific battle situation, they couldn't even see who the terrifying fishman in front of them was fighting like a mountain, but it was also thanks to the fishman's overly huge body that everyone in Hemtika City could deduce Dagon's injuries through the rain of blood that was sprinkled.

And this time, the severed arm that was cut off is especially clear in Hemtika, which has been reduced to ruins.

- The enemy has lost a hand!

Such a hypothetical association makes everyone's face difficult to hide the excitement.

Except for Duke Goldsworthy, as well as Brandon O'Neiens.

The former still has a dead face at the moment, partly because he is not lightly injured by the enemy, and partly because it stems from ...... The more and more surging power in the body.

It's out of control!

The weak flesh has been reduced to bondage, and the small will has become a shackle.

With the further fermentation of the power beyond imagination, heading towards the ultimate realm called infinity, the silver-haired and black-eyed Lord of Hemtika felt more and more alienated from his own will and body, and every time he moved his feet, moved his eyes, moved his fingers, and waved his arms, the energy and mental strength consumed were no less than a fierce battle with a strong enemy, and the sword that cut off Dagon's arm just now was the limit of what he could do.

It's not that he can't wield a second sword.

But...... The enemy will not give him another chance to draw his sword.

The act of swinging a sword is about a blink of an eye for ordinary people, and those skilled swordsmen and swordsmen can even do it like their fingers, and almost at the moment of their hearts, the long sword in their hands has already been slashed.

And Duke's realm will only be above them, cutting through the atmosphere, cutting the sound, and cutting the steel is just a matter of hand for him, with the blessing of his ability, the speed at which he draws his sword can even exceed the extreme that his vision can capture, many high-level demons and demons who have fallen under his sword, and he has not even seen how he draws his sword.

It's just that...... The city lord of Hemtika was in a very delicate state at the moment.

Swing the sword –

Like manipulating every muscle in his body with the silk threads that manipulated a puppet, the silver-haired, black-eyed Glory was slow and stiff, and his performance was worse than that of a beginner who had just gotten his hands on a heavy iron sword.

It was because the god of the deep sea had misestimated the vigorous vitality in his body that was beyond imagination, and after three straight punches in a row, he relaxed his vigilance and gave him a chance to take advantage of it.

Now, it is clear that the enemy will not make such a low-level mistake again.

It was difficult, or impossible, for him to find an opportunity to swing a second sword.

Duke Goldsworthy knew this, but the Glory, who could further increase the drain on his energy by moving his gaze, didn't know that the loss of an arm was nothing to an ancient evil that had survived from the battlefields of the past.

It's regenerating.

The Patriarch of the Order, Brandon O'Neill, watched the scene in front of him, and couldn't help but feel bitter in his heart.

— but a few breaths.

He sighed softly, but it was only a few breaths before an intact arm grew straight out of the cut in the severed arm, and there was no difference from the original.

Ultra-high-speed regeneration.

Dagon's abilities made him truly experience despair.

Through the round of combat just now, he had already anticipated the defensive power of the dark green scales covering the body of the god of the deep sea in front of him, and although his powerful blow could penetrate and tear a small wound, it ...... On a huge fish-man at least two or three hundred meters high, what is this remarkable wound the size of a person? It will probably bleed a little, and it hurts a little?

So, the only one to hope for is Duke Goldsworthy.

All he could do was draw the attention of Dagon to the silver-haired, dark-eyed Lord of Humtika and help him create the time it would take to swing his second sword.

If...... If he can still swing a second sword.

The terrifying power above the mortal world is not easily involved, and even those who are at the end of the mortal path like them, who are qualified to be called strong in the entire territory of the order, must pay an extremely heavy price if they want to reach it—either consume a lot of life, or suffer a huge backlash, perhaps cut off the foundation of their own power, or put their lives on the gamble of fate.

Because of this, he didn't know if Galsworth could swing a second sword.

But he didn't have a choice.

He could only gamble, and he could only pin his hopes on the second sword he wielded.

Only in this way can he convince himself not to fear, not to tremble, not to be pessimistic, not to despair.

Thus, the patriarch of the Order, who was in Hemtika, became active.

Swirling like a fly in front of the god of the deep sea, he didn't expect his barren attack to inflict heavy damage on his enemies, all his purpose was to draw Dagon's attention to him.

Pity......

This trick doesn't work for Dagon.

The old family member, who had returned from the mythical battlefield of ancient times, turned a blind eye to Brandon's presence, and only when he came to weak points such as eyes, nose, and ears, which lacked the protection of scales, would he wave his hand impatiently like a mosquito and force the old man aside.

There was only one figure reflected in its scarlet eyes.

That was Duke Goldsworthy.

No, more accurately, it should be Ouroboros, the Ouroboros, and the placenta that conceives it.

Therefore, it waved the trident in its hand, like a blue lightning bolt falling straight into the sky, and the silver serpents flying in the sky lit up the long night, and the whole of Hemtika was thunderous and thunderous, as if the end was coming.

Move, move, move!

The crisis of death made the near-completely out of control power in his body rarely stabilized, and the silver-haired and black-eyed Lord of Hemtika gritted his teeth, too late to dodge, and directly faced the flickering cold light of the trident, and swung his second sword, and it was probably the last.

Unexpectedly, the two very different super-mortal powers did not collide together.

They penetrated each other, as if they had reached some kind of secret but malicious agreement, and galloped towards each other's masters.

Aquaman's trident crushed Duke Goldsworthy's lower body into a puddle of flesh, no blood splattered, and the blazing lightning directly vaporized everything, leaving only the last breath of the Lord of Helmtica on the ground, and the scorched and dark red traces of the ground.

On the other side, the chilling sword light beyond human comprehension sliced through the atmosphere, sliced through the lightning, and sliced through the great gods from under the deep sea.

- Dagon, who had no time to dodge, was simply cut off most of his neck, and his head was crooked, almost connected by the only remaining tendons on the edge, and hung on his shoulder, only to fall to the ground with the howling and frenzied wind, becoming another great head that could not be seen.

But almost is a little, nothing maybe, and nothing is just.

The bloody flesh sprouted at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the last remaining family member reached out to help the falling head as they continued to chase away the fly that was still trying to mess with it.

Then, after only a few tens of seconds, the scar on his neck was completely gone, and the gods of the deep sea fixed their eyes on the little fly that had been messing with it since the beginning.

"Smack!"

Put your hands together and miss with one blow.

Then came the second blow, the third blow, the fourth blow...... Seventeen strikes in a row may have been a trivial matter like swatting flies to Grandgon, but in the eyes of Brandon O'Neill it was an out-and-out seventeen life-and-death crises, and he avoided the previous sixteen...... But it's a pity that the seventeenth time failed to get out of the scope of the blow in time due to the lack of strength, and was slapped to death with a neat slap.

Blood splattered on the massive fish-man's folded palms, leaving only a few insignificant spots of blood.

This is the last vestige of the Patriarch of the Order.

Without any accidents, he died.

The Glory, the Sword Bearer, the mortals, and the few demons and high demons who had survived the collapse of the Helmtica had obviously not seen the humble demise in the giant's palm, but when they saw the new steps of Dagon, and the scarlet eyes full of tyranny and malice, they would naturally realize it...... There is no hope left in this world.

The only thing that awaits them is destruction.

This is not an enemy that an existence of their level can resist, the Great Sword Bearer, the High Demon - perhaps in the eyes of mortals they symbolize the end of the power of this world, but compared to the peak of the path of mortals, they are so immature, so fragile, so vulnerable.

With a wave of his hand, the god from the deep sea was beaten into a mist of blood.

What's next?

What's next?

What's next!!

Everyone's minds were occupied by anxiety and restlessness, and everyone lost their way forward.

Because—

Their lives are about to come to a not-so-fulfilling end.

They're going to die.

What should I do? What else can I do?

We can only hope for miracles - when all efforts end in failure, perhaps only miracles can dispel the haze of death above our heads.

Wait, and be hopeful.

Dagon's massive fish mouth, which took up almost half of his face, opened to create a faint arc.

Because that's the only way to do that—

I can taste your bitter despair!